Glastonbury (a Dr Who-related celebration)
You may have seen the recent clip of Matt Smith performing with Orbital at Glastonbury (search for 'matt smith orbital glastonbury' or similar on YouTube). Well, needless to say this has got a lot of fangirls very excited, and I've written a story and made some icons to celebrate...
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Thank you very much to earsnwhiskers, who kindly provided me with some Glastonbury screencaps. I managed to get a few more myself, and here are the resulting icons:
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3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
(You can see which one I took!)
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Title: Glastonbury
Author: Rochvelleth
Word count: 1600 words
Characters: Eleven, Amy, Orbital
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None really, but there is a reference to 5x11
Warnings: None
Author's Note: I was going to write a small series of interconnected drabbles... and then I went and wrote 16 of them. This is the reason for the gaps anyway! You'll see...
Glastonbury
“You said Glastonbury!” Amy complained. She had chosen her clothes especially - patterned wellies, statement T shirt and all. “Where is everyone?!”
The Doctor frowned at her. “This is Glastonbury. What are you talking about? Anyway, be quiet now, or we’ll miss him.”
“Miss who? Bruce Springsteen?” Amy followed the Doctor’s example and lay down in the grass beside him.
“Joseph of Arimathea, of course!”
“Who?”
“It’s an ancient legend - Joseph of Arimathea is supposed to have planted his staff in the ground over there... only it’s true. I thought you’d want...”
Amy pouted, and the Doctor rolled his eyes.
“Alright, alright,” the Doctor said, throwing open the door of the TARDIS and allowing Amy to be first to step outside. “We could have gone to Woodstock, you know. The Woodstock.”
“I’m British, I want Glastonbury! Anyway, it’s my birthday...”
“No it’s not. When we were in Tarkopolis, then it was your birthday. Your two thousand and twenty third birthday, not that you’ll really live that long...”
“That’s not very nice!”
“Well you are human.”
Amy ignored him and stepped out into the mud, her eyes wide as she took in the spectacle of thousands of people in a field.
Before long, Amy was dragging the Doctor towards a stage where they were going to listen to a band she’d loved as a child. She was revelling in the atmosphere of the place, the sense of shared enthusiasm for music.
The Doctor, however, had just been approached by someone with a clipboard. “You’re late!” the man said. “Hurry!”
“Yes,” the Doctor said thoughtfully, looking the man up and down but making no effort to overturn whatever assumptions he was making. “Bad traffic. Sorry.”
“Well come on then!” the man insisted, tugging on the Doctor’s sleeve until he acquiesced and followed.
When Amy turned around to make an exclamation of joy to the Doctor, she discovered he wasn’t there. At first this annoyed her, but then it occurred to her that he might have completely different musical tastes. No point in looking for him now anyway, in a field heaving with people - it would be like a Where’s Wally? puzzle. She might as well just go to see her band, and then ask around afterwards if anyone has seen a strange man who turned up to Glastonbury in a bow tie. Of course there was no way this plan could fail.
The man with a clipboard led the Doctor around the back of a large temporary stage, and then left him. But before long, two more men came and found him standing there.
“You’re so late!” one said.
“Yes, sorry.” The Doctor sprang forward and kissed them both on both cheeks. “I’m the Doctor. And you must be... Phil and Paul.” He got the names from their security badges.
Phil and Paul exchanged a frown. “Why are you acting like that?” Phil asked. “You’re behaving like you don’t know us.”
“Well you can’t wear that,” Phil said. “Here, put these on,” He slung a carrier bag towards the Doctor, who presently found out that it contained a pair of jeans and a low-necked black T shirt.
“Well I can’t wear this!” the Doctor insisted.
“Look, you can borrow my coat,” Paul added. The Doctor was about to protest until he saw that it was a dark coloured military-looking coat that was rather swish even by his standards.
“Oh, alright,” he said, and got changed.
Just then, the man with the clipboard came back. “Five minutes,” he said, holding up his hand in case they couldn’t hear with all the noise.
“Just one question,” the Doctor said, looking from Phil to Paul and back again. “Do I have to play an instrument?”
Paul frowned. “Keyboard... of course! You are ready for this?”
“Of course I am! I’m a good keyboardist! I think. Well, we’ll find out soon enough.”
“When you introduce us,” Phil added, “give it all the ‘Yeah baby’ stuff. The crowd love that.”
“‘Yeah baby’ stuff?” the Doctor repeated. “Oh, I see! Yeah, baby!” He high-fived Phil to add to the effect. “And remind me - is it cool to say ‘cool’ these days? Or should I stick with ‘wicked’?”
Amy was feeling quite elated and had latched on to a group of people who seemed to have similar tastes in clothes and music. Not that they were talking to each other, or swapping names - they were just together by virtue of being similar, bobbing along to the music in unison.
After a while, that band finished playing, but the crowd didn’t break up. The sun had set now and people were getting glow sticks out. It was clear that the stage was being prepared for something new. Amy decided to stay and find out what, and who, it was.
The Doctor emerged onto the stage amid cheers and screams from the crowd. He was feeling quite pleased to be so popular, though he wasn’t sure why he was.
“Yes, Glastonbury!” he said to the crowd, raising both hands. “Whatta, baby!” This seemed to elicit a good response, so he kept it up with only a minor interruption to ask Paul for some of the nice glasses with lights on.
“So this is the last song of the evening, people,” he said, turning back to the crowd. “Let’s make this one count!” He grinned as they cheered back at him.
Amy was standing in the crowd with her arms folded. Had the Doctor actually just appeared on stage, looking cool and making the crowd go wild? He was such a show off!
“Let me hear you cheer!” he was shouting now, working the crowd into a frenzy, arms raised. “Let me hear you roar!”
The screaming all around her was deafening. Amy had to admit, he had something. But no matter how cool he might be right then, she was never going to let him forget this. She wondered whether she would be able to sneak backstage after the performance.
The Doctor was pleasantly surprised to find that he was a very good keyboardist, and he bobbed his head in time with the music as he played. The tune really was rather euphoric. He would have started dancing if he hadn’t had keyboard duties, but sadly he would have to save dancing for later. The music went up in tempo and he kept playing along, adding a few flourishes of his own, letting the rhythm flow through his long fingers.
As the session ended to euphoric applause, the Doctor embraced his new bandmates. “Excellent show!” he said loudly. “Yeah baby!”
When the Doctor arrived backstage, Amy was standing there waiting for him. “How did you make it past security?” he asked.
Amy threw him his psychic paper wallet. “Picked your pocket,” she said. “And how did you end up on stage?!”
“I’m still trying to work that out,” the Doctor said, frowning. His frown only broke as Paul walked past, congratulating him. The Doctor gave him back his coat.
Amy was looking at him with an eyebrow raised. “Well?”
“Back to the TARDIS, Pond,” the Doctor said. “We have a mystery to resolve, and I think I know the solution.”
“So where are we going?” Amy asked as the Doctor fiddled with some levers on the TARDIS console.
“Remember when the TARDIS couldn’t land and I got stranded? You left a card in a newsagent window for me.”
“So?”
“Well, I only noticed it because it was right next to a poster advertising auditions for a band. Orbital, that’s what it said.”
“What, and you’re going to go back and audition?”
“That must be how I meet Phil and Paul.”
“Who?”
“Orbital - keep up! They already recognised me, so I must have auditioned, mustn’t I? Might as well be now.”
“What if you’re wrong?” Amy asked as they walked along a road to the studio. “What if you turn up and you’re already there auditioning? That could happen, couldn’t it?”
The Doctor stopped and peered at her. “If that happens, we’ll hide,” he said slowly, as if it was obvious. He tapped her on the nose. “Wouldn’t do to bump into ourselves.” Then he proceeded along the road, and Amy followed. “Have you got the bag with my normal clothes in?”
“Yeah, it’s here,” Amy said, holding it up and wondering why it was so important.
“Good. Don’t lose it.”
“Phil!” the Doctor exclaimed when he walked into the studio, going over to kiss him on both cheeks. He did the same with Paul.
Phil and Paul exchanged a glance. “Do we know you?” Paul asked.
“You do now - baby!” The Doctor grinned. “Take me to your keyboard!”
Amy rolled her eyes and stayed in the corner. The Doctor’s ‘jamming’ was somewhere between cringeworthy and amazing, and she couldn’t decide which. She just hoped that he wouldn’t be adopting phrases like ‘Yeah baby’ long term now.
After the session, Phil and Paul clapped the Doctor on the back. “You’re hired!”
“So I’ll see you at Glastonbury then,” the Doctor said. “Have you got a toilet?”
“Through there,” Paul said, confused. How did the Doctor know this was for Glastonbury? They hadn’t mentioned it yet.
The Doctor took his bag of clothes from Amy, and went into the toilet to change. He came out looking his old self, with the T shirt and jeans in the bag. “Give this to me at Glastonbury,” he said, handing it to Phil. “Don’t forget! And Paul, don’t forget your coat. The nice one with the buttons.”
And with that, he and Amy were gone.
---
Thank you very much to earsnwhiskers, who kindly provided me with some Glastonbury screencaps. I managed to get a few more myself, and here are the resulting icons:
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
(You can see which one I took!)
---
Title: Glastonbury
Author: Rochvelleth
Word count: 1600 words
Characters: Eleven, Amy, Orbital
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None really, but there is a reference to 5x11
Warnings: None
Author's Note: I was going to write a small series of interconnected drabbles... and then I went and wrote 16 of them. This is the reason for the gaps anyway! You'll see...
Glastonbury
“You said Glastonbury!” Amy complained. She had chosen her clothes especially - patterned wellies, statement T shirt and all. “Where is everyone?!”
The Doctor frowned at her. “This is Glastonbury. What are you talking about? Anyway, be quiet now, or we’ll miss him.”
“Miss who? Bruce Springsteen?” Amy followed the Doctor’s example and lay down in the grass beside him.
“Joseph of Arimathea, of course!”
“Who?”
“It’s an ancient legend - Joseph of Arimathea is supposed to have planted his staff in the ground over there... only it’s true. I thought you’d want...”
Amy pouted, and the Doctor rolled his eyes.
“Alright, alright,” the Doctor said, throwing open the door of the TARDIS and allowing Amy to be first to step outside. “We could have gone to Woodstock, you know. The Woodstock.”
“I’m British, I want Glastonbury! Anyway, it’s my birthday...”
“No it’s not. When we were in Tarkopolis, then it was your birthday. Your two thousand and twenty third birthday, not that you’ll really live that long...”
“That’s not very nice!”
“Well you are human.”
Amy ignored him and stepped out into the mud, her eyes wide as she took in the spectacle of thousands of people in a field.
Before long, Amy was dragging the Doctor towards a stage where they were going to listen to a band she’d loved as a child. She was revelling in the atmosphere of the place, the sense of shared enthusiasm for music.
The Doctor, however, had just been approached by someone with a clipboard. “You’re late!” the man said. “Hurry!”
“Yes,” the Doctor said thoughtfully, looking the man up and down but making no effort to overturn whatever assumptions he was making. “Bad traffic. Sorry.”
“Well come on then!” the man insisted, tugging on the Doctor’s sleeve until he acquiesced and followed.
When Amy turned around to make an exclamation of joy to the Doctor, she discovered he wasn’t there. At first this annoyed her, but then it occurred to her that he might have completely different musical tastes. No point in looking for him now anyway, in a field heaving with people - it would be like a Where’s Wally? puzzle. She might as well just go to see her band, and then ask around afterwards if anyone has seen a strange man who turned up to Glastonbury in a bow tie. Of course there was no way this plan could fail.
The man with a clipboard led the Doctor around the back of a large temporary stage, and then left him. But before long, two more men came and found him standing there.
“You’re so late!” one said.
“Yes, sorry.” The Doctor sprang forward and kissed them both on both cheeks. “I’m the Doctor. And you must be... Phil and Paul.” He got the names from their security badges.
Phil and Paul exchanged a frown. “Why are you acting like that?” Phil asked. “You’re behaving like you don’t know us.”
“Well you can’t wear that,” Phil said. “Here, put these on,” He slung a carrier bag towards the Doctor, who presently found out that it contained a pair of jeans and a low-necked black T shirt.
“Well I can’t wear this!” the Doctor insisted.
“Look, you can borrow my coat,” Paul added. The Doctor was about to protest until he saw that it was a dark coloured military-looking coat that was rather swish even by his standards.
“Oh, alright,” he said, and got changed.
Just then, the man with the clipboard came back. “Five minutes,” he said, holding up his hand in case they couldn’t hear with all the noise.
“Just one question,” the Doctor said, looking from Phil to Paul and back again. “Do I have to play an instrument?”
Paul frowned. “Keyboard... of course! You are ready for this?”
“Of course I am! I’m a good keyboardist! I think. Well, we’ll find out soon enough.”
“When you introduce us,” Phil added, “give it all the ‘Yeah baby’ stuff. The crowd love that.”
“‘Yeah baby’ stuff?” the Doctor repeated. “Oh, I see! Yeah, baby!” He high-fived Phil to add to the effect. “And remind me - is it cool to say ‘cool’ these days? Or should I stick with ‘wicked’?”
Amy was feeling quite elated and had latched on to a group of people who seemed to have similar tastes in clothes and music. Not that they were talking to each other, or swapping names - they were just together by virtue of being similar, bobbing along to the music in unison.
After a while, that band finished playing, but the crowd didn’t break up. The sun had set now and people were getting glow sticks out. It was clear that the stage was being prepared for something new. Amy decided to stay and find out what, and who, it was.
The Doctor emerged onto the stage amid cheers and screams from the crowd. He was feeling quite pleased to be so popular, though he wasn’t sure why he was.
“Yes, Glastonbury!” he said to the crowd, raising both hands. “Whatta, baby!” This seemed to elicit a good response, so he kept it up with only a minor interruption to ask Paul for some of the nice glasses with lights on.
“So this is the last song of the evening, people,” he said, turning back to the crowd. “Let’s make this one count!” He grinned as they cheered back at him.
Amy was standing in the crowd with her arms folded. Had the Doctor actually just appeared on stage, looking cool and making the crowd go wild? He was such a show off!
“Let me hear you cheer!” he was shouting now, working the crowd into a frenzy, arms raised. “Let me hear you roar!”
The screaming all around her was deafening. Amy had to admit, he had something. But no matter how cool he might be right then, she was never going to let him forget this. She wondered whether she would be able to sneak backstage after the performance.
The Doctor was pleasantly surprised to find that he was a very good keyboardist, and he bobbed his head in time with the music as he played. The tune really was rather euphoric. He would have started dancing if he hadn’t had keyboard duties, but sadly he would have to save dancing for later. The music went up in tempo and he kept playing along, adding a few flourishes of his own, letting the rhythm flow through his long fingers.
As the session ended to euphoric applause, the Doctor embraced his new bandmates. “Excellent show!” he said loudly. “Yeah baby!”
When the Doctor arrived backstage, Amy was standing there waiting for him. “How did you make it past security?” he asked.
Amy threw him his psychic paper wallet. “Picked your pocket,” she said. “And how did you end up on stage?!”
“I’m still trying to work that out,” the Doctor said, frowning. His frown only broke as Paul walked past, congratulating him. The Doctor gave him back his coat.
Amy was looking at him with an eyebrow raised. “Well?”
“Back to the TARDIS, Pond,” the Doctor said. “We have a mystery to resolve, and I think I know the solution.”
“So where are we going?” Amy asked as the Doctor fiddled with some levers on the TARDIS console.
“Remember when the TARDIS couldn’t land and I got stranded? You left a card in a newsagent window for me.”
“So?”
“Well, I only noticed it because it was right next to a poster advertising auditions for a band. Orbital, that’s what it said.”
“What, and you’re going to go back and audition?”
“That must be how I meet Phil and Paul.”
“Who?”
“Orbital - keep up! They already recognised me, so I must have auditioned, mustn’t I? Might as well be now.”
“What if you’re wrong?” Amy asked as they walked along a road to the studio. “What if you turn up and you’re already there auditioning? That could happen, couldn’t it?”
The Doctor stopped and peered at her. “If that happens, we’ll hide,” he said slowly, as if it was obvious. He tapped her on the nose. “Wouldn’t do to bump into ourselves.” Then he proceeded along the road, and Amy followed. “Have you got the bag with my normal clothes in?”
“Yeah, it’s here,” Amy said, holding it up and wondering why it was so important.
“Good. Don’t lose it.”
“Phil!” the Doctor exclaimed when he walked into the studio, going over to kiss him on both cheeks. He did the same with Paul.
Phil and Paul exchanged a glance. “Do we know you?” Paul asked.
“You do now - baby!” The Doctor grinned. “Take me to your keyboard!”
Amy rolled her eyes and stayed in the corner. The Doctor’s ‘jamming’ was somewhere between cringeworthy and amazing, and she couldn’t decide which. She just hoped that he wouldn’t be adopting phrases like ‘Yeah baby’ long term now.
After the session, Phil and Paul clapped the Doctor on the back. “You’re hired!”
“So I’ll see you at Glastonbury then,” the Doctor said. “Have you got a toilet?”
“Through there,” Paul said, confused. How did the Doctor know this was for Glastonbury? They hadn’t mentioned it yet.
The Doctor took his bag of clothes from Amy, and went into the toilet to change. He came out looking his old self, with the T shirt and jeans in the bag. “Give this to me at Glastonbury,” he said, handing it to Phil. “Don’t forget! And Paul, don’t forget your coat. The nice one with the buttons.”
And with that, he and Amy were gone.