Creature from the Depths of the Anonmeme
Title: Sapientia Virumque Cano
Characters: Six, Evelyn, implied Six/Ainley!Master
Warning: Very bad poetry.
Summary: The Doctor comes to Evelyn with a request.
Beta: alex-e-smith
"I was hoping you could, oh, I don't know--"
Evelyn wasn't used to the Doctor coming to her with requests, let alone slightly sheepish, mumbled ones. In fact, aside from the occasional hint that more cake would be appreciated, she couldn’t remember him asking for much of anything.
"You want me to be your editor?" It was the least he could do she decided, to say it explicitly, possibly with a bit more praise of her scholarly abilities. Unfortunately she was to be disappointed.
"Editor's a bit strong, Evelyn. No, I've handled all the necessary corrections, gone through it with a fine-toothed comb." The Doctor leaned back in his chair, eyes narrow and utterly self satisfied. He hadn't touched his cocoa, which Evelyn read as a sign that on some level he was looking for help, even if he wouldn’t quite admit it.
With a sigh, she picked up the manuscript and read
This is the tale of knowledge and men of knowledge.
This is the song of Dottore Musa, who
this world and the brightest stars acknowledge
as a man of great intelligence, and who
insight and inspiration inspire. More
than this alone, he will be known as the one who
raised fair Italia, home of poets and amor
to the stars themselves. Indeed that Dottore,
that Adonis, noble in feature, with light
silky hair the shade of sun on sweet-grassed Rome’s
hills, begins his journey, his story and his flight.
Read well, oh reader, the journey that I read
to you from that place, where authority given just --
Evelyn quirked an eyebrow, lowering the manuscript to peer over her reading glasses at the Doctor. He pursed his lips, nodding for her to continue and, steeling herself for what was to come, she did.
~~~~~
The city below them burned with the same
fire that sparked angrily in the eyes of
noble-browed Musa. The fires untamed
burned the highest city, the remnant of
revolution, just as the fine ships carrying
the descendents of Aeneas most pious might
have succumbed to the inferno, dying
if not for the intervention that dark night
of Lord Musa most timely. The Dottore's
blue eyes glinted as he fixed his iron-strong
gaze upon that most dangerous of lovers.
"Maestro, you deceiver of deceivers, long
have you sought my affection and destruction.
All those people would be dead with burned flesh
if I had not translated the inscription
upon that cursed stone. All for your selfish,
single minded desire, would you condemn them
to burn up in the atmosphere like such small
scattered specs of stardust.” As he spoke thus
he captured the dark-bearded deceiver’s tall
body close against his own and demanded
truth with his eyes. The Maestro spoke when he could
"My desire for you would burn every city,
Dottore. Every people and empire would
fall before my want of you--" And here verily
emotion conquered him, leaving the Maestro,
foul facial haired dictator, breathlessly
offering: “Come with me, Dottore, let’s go!
Together we could rule the cosmos endlessly!”
For a moment, one alone, the hero seemed
swayed, turning his face downwards in deep thought
His coat of finest rainbow, brought down in the
delicate hands of Iris to shield him through
vast space’s spaciousness--
Evelyn stifled yet another snort of laughter, ignoring the sour look it received.
--not unlike the
celestial raiment of the flying bird
who in the night passes unknowing before the
moon and bathes gloriously in every shade
"I hate you." The Maestro growled like a wild beast
cornered, caged and spitting, he clutched his love
“I loathe you as I do this love in my breast
You irresistible, irresponsible--"
And Musa swayed by his passions sweet and cruel
Let anger flee indignant into shade “if that is
your intent stop talking and kiss me, you fool."
Like most epics, it went on for awhile. Evelyn was at last left holding the final page, face a mask of stunned, horrified disbelief.
"Well?" the Doctor prodded, nursing his third cup of cocoa and trying not to sound nervous.
“Well.” Evelyn tried very hard to come up with something constructive. "I'd say it's really more of a romance than the promised action-adventure"
"I suppose it could be read that way." The Doctor frowned, shifting a little uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't foolish enough to think that the story's passionate romantic subplot would escape Evelyn's attention, but he had hoped she would at least overlook it and focus instead on his frankly magnificent poetic abilities. (Still, it had lost something in translation, and he couldn’t quite blame her for misreading. It was difficult to maintain that level of detail and polish in a language with such limited tenses as English, or any language but the original Gallifreyan.) Perhaps he could enlist some properly educated assistance. Just when he was contemplating dropping by to see Braxiatel, Evelyn cleared her throat.
"I have to ask, if Musa is meant to be you--"
"He most certainly is not!"
"If any of this is based even loosely on reality, then that rather steamy encounter involving your avatar, that rather off-putting Maestro and the Professoressa's chocolate cake--"
"Evelyn!" The Doctor stood abruptly, cheeks flushed. “I'd expect better from you. Surely an academic of your caliber understands the difference between fantasy and nonfiction." Evelyn mumbled something that sounded like "oh, I certainly see this as a fantasy" and the Doctor turned slightly pink, fully prepared to leave the room in a huff.
"I'm sorry," she soothed, taking a sip of her cocoa. "But you did ask my opinion." When the Doctor had returned to his seat she picked up the manuscript again and flipped delicately through towards the beginning.
"Now, on page ninety-seven, you might want to change ‘Doctor’ to ‘Dottore’.”
Characters: Six, Evelyn, implied Six/Ainley!Master
Warning: Very bad poetry.
Summary: The Doctor comes to Evelyn with a request.
Beta: alex-e-smith
"I was hoping you could, oh, I don't know--"
Evelyn wasn't used to the Doctor coming to her with requests, let alone slightly sheepish, mumbled ones. In fact, aside from the occasional hint that more cake would be appreciated, she couldn’t remember him asking for much of anything.
"You want me to be your editor?" It was the least he could do she decided, to say it explicitly, possibly with a bit more praise of her scholarly abilities. Unfortunately she was to be disappointed.
"Editor's a bit strong, Evelyn. No, I've handled all the necessary corrections, gone through it with a fine-toothed comb." The Doctor leaned back in his chair, eyes narrow and utterly self satisfied. He hadn't touched his cocoa, which Evelyn read as a sign that on some level he was looking for help, even if he wouldn’t quite admit it.
With a sigh, she picked up the manuscript and read
This is the tale of knowledge and men of knowledge.
This is the song of Dottore Musa, who
this world and the brightest stars acknowledge
as a man of great intelligence, and who
insight and inspiration inspire. More
than this alone, he will be known as the one who
raised fair Italia, home of poets and amor
to the stars themselves. Indeed that Dottore,
that Adonis, noble in feature, with light
silky hair the shade of sun on sweet-grassed Rome’s
hills, begins his journey, his story and his flight.
Read well, oh reader, the journey that I read
to you from that place, where authority given just --
Evelyn quirked an eyebrow, lowering the manuscript to peer over her reading glasses at the Doctor. He pursed his lips, nodding for her to continue and, steeling herself for what was to come, she did.
~~~~~
The city below them burned with the same
fire that sparked angrily in the eyes of
noble-browed Musa. The fires untamed
burned the highest city, the remnant of
revolution, just as the fine ships carrying
the descendents of Aeneas most pious might
have succumbed to the inferno, dying
if not for the intervention that dark night
of Lord Musa most timely. The Dottore's
blue eyes glinted as he fixed his iron-strong
gaze upon that most dangerous of lovers.
"Maestro, you deceiver of deceivers, long
have you sought my affection and destruction.
All those people would be dead with burned flesh
if I had not translated the inscription
upon that cursed stone. All for your selfish,
single minded desire, would you condemn them
to burn up in the atmosphere like such small
scattered specs of stardust.” As he spoke thus
he captured the dark-bearded deceiver’s tall
body close against his own and demanded
truth with his eyes. The Maestro spoke when he could
"My desire for you would burn every city,
Dottore. Every people and empire would
fall before my want of you--" And here verily
emotion conquered him, leaving the Maestro,
foul facial haired dictator, breathlessly
offering: “Come with me, Dottore, let’s go!
Together we could rule the cosmos endlessly!”
For a moment, one alone, the hero seemed
swayed, turning his face downwards in deep thought
His coat of finest rainbow, brought down in the
delicate hands of Iris to shield him through
vast space’s spaciousness--
Evelyn stifled yet another snort of laughter, ignoring the sour look it received.
--not unlike the
celestial raiment of the flying bird
who in the night passes unknowing before the
moon and bathes gloriously in every shade
"I hate you." The Maestro growled like a wild beast
cornered, caged and spitting, he clutched his love
“I loathe you as I do this love in my breast
You irresistible, irresponsible--"
And Musa swayed by his passions sweet and cruel
Let anger flee indignant into shade “if that is
your intent stop talking and kiss me, you fool."
Like most epics, it went on for awhile. Evelyn was at last left holding the final page, face a mask of stunned, horrified disbelief.
"Well?" the Doctor prodded, nursing his third cup of cocoa and trying not to sound nervous.
“Well.” Evelyn tried very hard to come up with something constructive. "I'd say it's really more of a romance than the promised action-adventure"
"I suppose it could be read that way." The Doctor frowned, shifting a little uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't foolish enough to think that the story's passionate romantic subplot would escape Evelyn's attention, but he had hoped she would at least overlook it and focus instead on his frankly magnificent poetic abilities. (Still, it had lost something in translation, and he couldn’t quite blame her for misreading. It was difficult to maintain that level of detail and polish in a language with such limited tenses as English, or any language but the original Gallifreyan.) Perhaps he could enlist some properly educated assistance. Just when he was contemplating dropping by to see Braxiatel, Evelyn cleared her throat.
"I have to ask, if Musa is meant to be you--"
"He most certainly is not!"
"If any of this is based even loosely on reality, then that rather steamy encounter involving your avatar, that rather off-putting Maestro and the Professoressa's chocolate cake--"
"Evelyn!" The Doctor stood abruptly, cheeks flushed. “I'd expect better from you. Surely an academic of your caliber understands the difference between fantasy and nonfiction." Evelyn mumbled something that sounded like "oh, I certainly see this as a fantasy" and the Doctor turned slightly pink, fully prepared to leave the room in a huff.
"I'm sorry," she soothed, taking a sip of her cocoa. "But you did ask my opinion." When the Doctor had returned to his seat she picked up the manuscript again and flipped delicately through towards the beginning.
"Now, on page ninety-seven, you might want to change ‘Doctor’ to ‘Dottore’.”