Fic: Some new man
Title: Some New Man
Author: psyfi_geekgirl
BetaBabe: akkajemo
Characters/Pairings: Eleven/Rose, Ten/Rose, Amy
Rating: PG
Excerpt: While he remembered all of them, after 907 years the memories dulled a little. Because the truth was, he no longer mourned Adric as fervently as he once did. Someday, he might only barely remember why he’d burned up a sun just to say goodbye.
Word count: 996
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em. “Not nobody, not nohow…”
A/N: Prompted by challenge 33 at then_theres_us (Photos-under the cut).
He wasn’t sure if he should be surprised by the numbness or by the apathy.
He stared at the sparkly purple alien confections as if they were something important that he should remember. The memory of them seemed half a world away, or at least a lifetime ago.
For him, they were…
Catching his reflection in the case, the curvature of the glass distorted his face viciously; and for the first time in ages, he thought about Rose Tyler.
Funny. He’d loved her so much once and now he could barely remember the smell of her hair as she flounced by him in the console room or the exact colour of her eyes in the glow of the twin sunsets on Divinity 9. It was brown, right? Some sort of amber? Or was it brownish-green? Green…Ish? How strange. She’d been his entire world for a whole regeneration-the reason his hearts had kept time and his palms had tingled for its mate-but the pink and yellow girl who came to stay for a brief moment was but a fading memory now.
Maybe that’s why he’d fought so hard to stay?
But it was silly really, because there had been so many people and things that he’d loved and lost or loved over the long years and had finally put mercifully away. He was an old man with old peccadilloes. Lots of them. Once he’d relied on a tin dog, only to give him away. When he wore cravats and a wavy white pompadour he’d loved a canary yellow roadster he named “Bessie.” His fourth regeneration had lost interest though, and had it mothballed. He’d never seen it again. They were like toys. Toys he’d grown out of.
Well, toys were for children, surely.
Even if I change, it feels like dying. Everything I am dies…
He was now a new man with new desires and new amusements. He was completely new, like a story with all its details changed-except then, was it the same story? This had a point, but it’d gotten away from him… A song! Yes, a song. A new song-same melody-but with new words. Yes, that’s it! The old song had ended, and Rose had been wrapped up in the old lyrics-all of them had. But now that was over. Kaput. Did he say “kaput” anymore? Finito! He could say finito-see, the same, but different, all at the same time.
For he was a different man.
He peered into the sweet shop window and the thought of putting any one of those confections in his mouth disgusted him. Why could he ever have been so orally fixated? They would just taste like sawdust to him now.
New mouth. New rules.
Well, new everything, really.
The template was the same (that hardly ever changed much), but some things didn’t hold as much sway over him anymore. Not as much power to hurt him anymore.
The further away he got in regenerations the further away he would get from her. Proving that it wasn’t necessarily time that healed all wounds, but the inevitability of the regenerative cycle of a Timelord. Except that didn’t quite have the same ring to it, did it? The other sounded better, so he’d stick with that.
Sometimes he had cravings that didn’t last past a single regeneration. Once he’d loved jelly babies. Bananas and chips had given way to fish custard and jammy dodgers. It was as simple as that, really.
And then there were the things that one regeneration loved and others disliked. Take cats, for example. His sixth incarnation was simply barmy for the fluffy little buggers, yet the tenth didn’t trust them (except for Brannigan). His eleventh form however found them to be useful informants. All and all, there was no accounting for taste-even when it was his taste. After all this time he had learned that. Although, beans were still evil and apples were totally rubbish, by the way-and he might always hate pears.
And he wasn’t going to get into the hair and the wardrobe choices over the years…
Bowties, however never went out of style. Bowties were cool. Fezzes were pretty neat, too. He needed to find another one of those…
Still, his taste in people, while mostly similar in basic character, was just as fickle. For what had made him choose Leela over Sarah Jane? And why had he indulged Tegan for so long while he got rid of Dodo so quickly? And yet, while he remembered all of them, after 907 years the memories dulled a little.
Because the truth was, he no longer mourned Adric as fervently as he once did. Someday, he might only barely remember why he’d burned up a sun just to say goodbye.
Yes, he would always remember Rose, but this him was no longer made for her, and the pain he felt for years after he lost her had mercifully lifted. He was somebody else now.
And this somebody else no longer felt that edible ball bearings were a culinary masterpiece of unparalleled genius.
They were just kinda…gross now, actually…crunchy and silly and… Ew. Really. Just, ew.
He didn’t know why he’d fought so hard. Surely this was better?
“Come on, slow poke!” Amy called out after him. “Don’t think just cos you’re dragging your feet I’m letting you off the hook. Oh no! You promised me tea with Toulouse Lautrec and you are going to show me Montmartre!
He moved to catch up to Mr. and Mrs. Amy Pond. It was time for a new adventure-just what he was built for. Perhaps this time he might even avoid some multi-galactic disaster or a big giant paradox or an inexplicable splinch in the casual nexus timeline.
Maybe… But where’s the fun in that?
As he calculated the quickest route to possible trouble between point A and point Zed, and sauntered off after his newest companions, his thoughts strayed to that insufferable woman, Doctor Song…
Author: psyfi_geekgirl
BetaBabe: akkajemo
Characters/Pairings: Eleven/Rose, Ten/Rose, Amy
Rating: PG
Excerpt: While he remembered all of them, after 907 years the memories dulled a little. Because the truth was, he no longer mourned Adric as fervently as he once did. Someday, he might only barely remember why he’d burned up a sun just to say goodbye.
Word count: 996
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em. “Not nobody, not nohow…”
A/N: Prompted by challenge 33 at then_theres_us (Photos-under the cut).
He wasn’t sure if he should be surprised by the numbness or by the apathy.
He stared at the sparkly purple alien confections as if they were something important that he should remember. The memory of them seemed half a world away, or at least a lifetime ago.
For him, they were…
Catching his reflection in the case, the curvature of the glass distorted his face viciously; and for the first time in ages, he thought about Rose Tyler.
Funny. He’d loved her so much once and now he could barely remember the smell of her hair as she flounced by him in the console room or the exact colour of her eyes in the glow of the twin sunsets on Divinity 9. It was brown, right? Some sort of amber? Or was it brownish-green? Green…Ish? How strange. She’d been his entire world for a whole regeneration-the reason his hearts had kept time and his palms had tingled for its mate-but the pink and yellow girl who came to stay for a brief moment was but a fading memory now.
Maybe that’s why he’d fought so hard to stay?
But it was silly really, because there had been so many people and things that he’d loved and lost or loved over the long years and had finally put mercifully away. He was an old man with old peccadilloes. Lots of them. Once he’d relied on a tin dog, only to give him away. When he wore cravats and a wavy white pompadour he’d loved a canary yellow roadster he named “Bessie.” His fourth regeneration had lost interest though, and had it mothballed. He’d never seen it again. They were like toys. Toys he’d grown out of.
Well, toys were for children, surely.
Even if I change, it feels like dying. Everything I am dies…
He was now a new man with new desires and new amusements. He was completely new, like a story with all its details changed-except then, was it the same story? This had a point, but it’d gotten away from him… A song! Yes, a song. A new song-same melody-but with new words. Yes, that’s it! The old song had ended, and Rose had been wrapped up in the old lyrics-all of them had. But now that was over. Kaput. Did he say “kaput” anymore? Finito! He could say finito-see, the same, but different, all at the same time.
For he was a different man.
He peered into the sweet shop window and the thought of putting any one of those confections in his mouth disgusted him. Why could he ever have been so orally fixated? They would just taste like sawdust to him now.
New mouth. New rules.
Well, new everything, really.
The template was the same (that hardly ever changed much), but some things didn’t hold as much sway over him anymore. Not as much power to hurt him anymore.
The further away he got in regenerations the further away he would get from her. Proving that it wasn’t necessarily time that healed all wounds, but the inevitability of the regenerative cycle of a Timelord. Except that didn’t quite have the same ring to it, did it? The other sounded better, so he’d stick with that.
Sometimes he had cravings that didn’t last past a single regeneration. Once he’d loved jelly babies. Bananas and chips had given way to fish custard and jammy dodgers. It was as simple as that, really.
And then there were the things that one regeneration loved and others disliked. Take cats, for example. His sixth incarnation was simply barmy for the fluffy little buggers, yet the tenth didn’t trust them (except for Brannigan). His eleventh form however found them to be useful informants. All and all, there was no accounting for taste-even when it was his taste. After all this time he had learned that. Although, beans were still evil and apples were totally rubbish, by the way-and he might always hate pears.
And he wasn’t going to get into the hair and the wardrobe choices over the years…
Bowties, however never went out of style. Bowties were cool. Fezzes were pretty neat, too. He needed to find another one of those…
Still, his taste in people, while mostly similar in basic character, was just as fickle. For what had made him choose Leela over Sarah Jane? And why had he indulged Tegan for so long while he got rid of Dodo so quickly? And yet, while he remembered all of them, after 907 years the memories dulled a little.
Because the truth was, he no longer mourned Adric as fervently as he once did. Someday, he might only barely remember why he’d burned up a sun just to say goodbye.
Yes, he would always remember Rose, but this him was no longer made for her, and the pain he felt for years after he lost her had mercifully lifted. He was somebody else now.
And this somebody else no longer felt that edible ball bearings were a culinary masterpiece of unparalleled genius.
They were just kinda…gross now, actually…crunchy and silly and… Ew. Really. Just, ew.
He didn’t know why he’d fought so hard. Surely this was better?
“Come on, slow poke!” Amy called out after him. “Don’t think just cos you’re dragging your feet I’m letting you off the hook. Oh no! You promised me tea with Toulouse Lautrec and you are going to show me Montmartre!
He moved to catch up to Mr. and Mrs. Amy Pond. It was time for a new adventure-just what he was built for. Perhaps this time he might even avoid some multi-galactic disaster or a big giant paradox or an inexplicable splinch in the casual nexus timeline.
Maybe… But where’s the fun in that?
As he calculated the quickest route to possible trouble between point A and point Zed, and sauntered off after his newest companions, his thoughts strayed to that insufferable woman, Doctor Song…