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Fic: A Good Day (or: The War in the Medusa Cascade). Chapter 4
It is finally here! *collapses* Rarely has a chapter given me this much trouble - and I can't even work out why. It plain just didn't want to co-operate, and I can never thank ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathyh enough for being a marvellous beta and helping me to wrestle it into submission.
Beginning here if anyone is interested: Prologue. And Master post for the whole 'verse here.
Summary: "Why is it only ever the bad guys who have a proper plan?" The Master's son finally meets the Daleks. And he thought it a good day. (TSE/JE rewrite with Eleven and Clara and a host of extras.)
Setting: Future AU TSE/JE.
Spoilers: The Name of the Doctor (S7.13)
Rating: PG-13.
Characters: The Seeker (OC, the Master's son), Eleventh Doctor, Clara, the Master, Jack, River, Roda (OC), Davros, others.
Beta: The always lovelykathyh.
Thank yous: Tothe_redjay for the loan of Roda.
Feedback: Pretty please? I'm very curious to see what you think.
Chapter 4
For a few wonderful seconds, Clara felt only relief.
A sort of breathless, heart-beating-too-quickly relief, where she half expected to wake up in bed, the covers twisted and her brow covered in sweat, before realising that it had all been a dream.
(Sometimes all her echoes filtered through at night; and when she was in that liminal space between sleeping and waking she could sense untold lives and worlds hovering on the edge of her awareness, almost tangible until she tried to hold onto them, when they evaporated in wisps of smoke.)
But this was no dream; no echo.
It was far too real, and - until the Seeker had spoken up - she had been trying to wrap her head around the fact that the Doctor was helpless. That they had lost... That everything was lost.
Except salvation had arrived at the very last second.
The strange metal spheres looked somehow familiar, albeit with oddly ominous overtones that she couldn’t immediately place. Dismissing her vague unease she turned to the others - and her spontaneous relief faltered. All of them looked to be at various stages between horrified disbelief (the Doctor), apprehensive caution (River), through shock (Jack) to suspicious incredulity (Roda).
The Seeker continued speaking, seemingly unaware of the effect he was having, although now he was clearly addressing the spheres.
“Harvey - see the cyclops in the bath chair? If he moves so much as his little finger even a fraction of a millimetre - cut off his hand!”
There was a tching noise, as sharp blades suddenly projected out from the metal casing, and the sphere flew off.
“Bonnie, Clyde - take out the Daleks and secure the room. Princess - if you can, stop the countdown. And get me - but only me - out of this holding cell.”
“As you wish Lord Seeker,” they replied, their voices metallic yet playful, as they scattered.
For a few moments chaos reigned, as the Daleks and the spheres fought, but the metal balls were smaller and more agile than their adversaries, fairly easily outmanoeuvring the more unwieldy Daleks, and Clara was suddenly grateful for her holding cell, as the shots bounced right off the see-through surface.
Trying not to jump every time the cell was hit, she turned to the Doctor and realised that he had seemingly turned to stone.
“Doctor... the metal balls? What are they?”
He shot her an inscrutable look, and when he replied his voice was harsh and strangely bitter:
“They’re not his friends. They’re no one’s friends.”
And that’s as far as they got, since at that point the fighting let up, the smoke cleared, and they realised the Seeker was now standing by one of the main consoles, tapping out something or other.
The next moment the countdown stopped.
“That’s better,” he smiled, as casual and relaxed as if chatting over a cup of tea in the kitchen. "Why do villains never read Peter’s Evil Overlord List? Countdowns should never go to zero, they should go off while the heroes are still busy implementing their plan. Although I am aware that I should count my blessings today...”
They all stared, no one sure what to say, and it was Davros who eventually broke the stunned silence.
“What is the meaning of this prattle? Your little toys can’t keep this up for long, child.”
The Seeker stood up straight, arms crossed, and his eyes were calm but dangerous:
“Oh they’re not toys. They’re called the Toclafane, and in case you didn’t notice, three of them just destroyed eight of your Daleks with no difficulty at all. But I better make it official I suppose - Davros, I am declaring war. I could even do it in the name of the Shadow Proclamation I suppose... But I don’t really need them, what with being rather brilliant and more than capable on taking you on alone.”
As he spoke, Clara with a jolt remembered why the spheres looked familiar. It had been the day after the election, back in 2007 (the first time she voted, she’d felt terribly grown-up), watching the TV avidly because of the strange ‘aliens’ that were going to appear. There had been President Winters, befuddled as the floating balls - ‘Toclafane’, such an odd name - spoke of a ‘Mister Master’ who turned out to be Harold Saxon... She took a swift breath. The Master! The Seeker’s father, of course. And he’d looked just like the Seeker did now - never mind the different face - just before he’d had the President murdered...
“I should have had you killed before you ever entered this room,” Davros rasped, and the Seeker grinned.
“Oh yes you should. And even so, I am going to leave you alive, just for a little while longer... It’s risky, but dammit I’m not going to waste a chance like this.”
Before Davros could reply, the Doctor spoke up, voice cautious and his hands twisted together in a manner that belied the relative composure of his face.
“Good, very good. Very nice impersonation of your father. You’ve got the upper hand, you can let us out now...”
The Seeker let his eyes pass over them speculatively, before turning to Davros again.
“Oh, do excuse me, Davros. Little bit of personal business. Back in a minute.”
Swiftly tapping something else out on the console, he smirked.
“Also sent the Supreme Dalek a message that there was an unexpected problem, but you’re working to fix it. Should give us a good 500 rels at least...”
Then, walking over to the Doctor, the Seeker studied him for a moment, then shook his head.
“Let you out? Not a chance. Remember my rant earlier on? About why it’s only the bad guys who have a plan? I was being slightly economical with the truth. I have a plan. Several, as a matter of fact. Actually...”
He looked over his shoulder.
“Caan? I’m very much looking forward to finding out why you’ve been lying... But for the moment - are there any prophecies you can now divulge? Anything about me, say?”
They all waited as the deformed Dalek (or was that how they all looked underneath their shells? Clara shuddered to think) took a moment before speaking:
“This I saw through the fire and the strife: The Child of Two Worlds will break the Doctor’s hearts.”
The Seeker’s eyes slowly fastened on the Doctor once more.
“Not exactly what I was expecting,” the Seeker eventually said, “but certainly accurate. Think I’ve probably broken one already and am well on my way to break the other one. Sorry Doctor - really I am. But life’s not fair.”
A pause.
“Although I like ‘Child of Two Worlds’. Yes, that’s good. I’ll keep that.”
The Doctor took a deep breath and tried again.
“Seeker - please. Listen to me. Just let me out-”
But the Seeker’s eyes had turned hard again.
“No. You meddle, and you’re severely emotionally compromised at the moment.”
“Emotionally comp-” the Doctor began, breaking off mid-word. “Your father died, and I’m emotionally compromised?”
“What’s this?” River asked, and Clara could see Jack and Roda suddenly standing up straight in their cells.
The Seeker turned to the three of them and explained.
“The Daleks destroyed the TARDIS - my father was inside at the time. It was an unforeseen event. I hate unknown unknowns, they’re fiendishly hard to anticipate, not to mention complicated to respond to.”
He left the sentence hanging, but the Doctor had abruptly gone pale and drawn and desperate.
“You could have saved them?”
A long pause as the Seeker stared into the distance.
“Probably not. Well, about... 8% probability. But it would have compromised everything, and the odds were much too unfavourable.”
The Doctor looked all hollow, like he had on Trenzalore when the Whisper Men were attacking...
“And it cost your father his life.”
The Seeker’s eyes narrowed, and their green colour - as well as his obvious self-containment - suddenly reminded Clara of a cat... It wasn’t a bad comparison she thought. Maybe he was like ‘The Cat that Walked by Himself’ - tolerating company perfectly equitably, but not needing it. Yet what did that mean for the current situation?
“I’m going to save the universe. I wasn’t even a year old when I learned that you don’t do that without sacrifices. Besides, Roda will be happy.”
They both turned, and Roda’s face was the most carefully studied neutral mask Clara had ever seen.
“I am sorry for your loss,” she said, without any inflection at all.
“Thank you, Redjay,” he replied, his tone equally neutral, before briskly getting back to the initial bone of contention.
“Anyway, not letting you out, and not discussing it, although I can give you reasons. Clara - you seem lovely, and I’m sure you’re very handy in a crisis, but apparently you have an unfortunate tendency towards self sacrifice and dying. River-”
He hesitated slightly, as he moved along the holding cells.
“Well, Doctor Song, you have the right attitude. If I need another pair of hands, you’ll probably be it.”
“Why thank you,” she replied, perfectly deadpan, and he smiled.
“Don’t mention it. Jack- your plan was idiotic, so I’m cross with you. Roda...”
For the first time he hesitated. Roda - or the Redjay, clearly all Time Lords had several names, most of them peculiar - watched him intently. She was about River’s height, her auburn hair interwoven with red feathers, the simplicity indicated by her brown trousers and white shirt belied by the intensity of her gaze, which now made the Seeker almost falter.
“I... guess this is the real reason why you stopped - will stop - seeing me.”
“Depends what you do,” she replied, voice cautious. “The new face was a bit of a surprise. How recent?”
“I’m from the future - relative to you and Jack at least. Been a bit of a hermit for the past few years - more so than usual. Busy with new projects.”
“So I see,” she said, shooting the Toclafane a piercing glance. “This new model is a bit more shades of grey, huh?”
Not interested in the love affairs of others when there were more important issues to focus on, Clara tried to catch the Doctor’s attention. Dalek Caan’s words had reminded her of the prophecy she had been told, and although it was probably too late, she wanted to tell him...
“Doctor!” she half-hissed, half-whispered. “Listen! There is something I need to tell you!”
Eventually he turned, and she told herself very firmly that she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by the pain she could read in his eyes...
“I was told a prophecy by the lady at the Shadow Proclamation.”
He did a double take, finally focussing on her properly.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I... there- there wasn’t really time. But she said...” She concentrated, trying to push her feelings aside and just repeat what she’d heard. “She said that not even dying would prevent today’s heartbreak. And... She said not to trust the man in black, because he’s his father’s son and today he will lay claim to his birth right.”
For the longest moment the Doctor only looked at her; old, old eyes in that long youthful face, the forelock falling over his forehead in almost comical fashion. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head, even as he couldn’t help but glance at the spheres.
“No. No, he wouldn’t,” he whispered. “He wouldn’t do that. Surely...”
But the sudden dread in his eyes was unmistakable.
(The Seeker’s face, resigned to causing heartbreak... What could he be planning? She no longer feared for herself or the world - just wondered how much more her poor Doctor could cope with. What would he do without his TARDIS?)
Worried, she refocussed her attention on the Seeker and Roda.
“Roda - I know you’re claustrophobic, but I can only let you out if you promise not to interfere - no matter what happens.”
She studied him silently for a long moment, and then eventually shook her head.
“No. Sorry, but no.”
He sighed.
“Then you’re staying where you are. Sorry.”
“Fine,” she said, almost with a hint of sulking. The Seeker stepped back, as the Doctor almost exploded.
“Roda? What are you doing?”
She shot him a cool look.
“I know what you’re thinking. But I won’t lie to him. And I won’t betray him. He trusts me.”
Jack, too, looked fit to burst, although he tried to keep his voice calm.
“Roda I understand, I love him too, but of all the times for you to be clinging to your principles...”
At this point River cut in.
“Oh leave Roda alone, just because she is keeping her head there’s no need for you to lose yours. Look, the lad’s got a plan, he’s on a bit of a power trip, it’ll wear off. Who here hasn’t been in his shoes? Let him have some fun for a while.”
“Fun?” the Doctor’s voice took incredulity to new heights. “Fun? River you can’t possibly be serious-”
“Shut up!”
Silence fell as they all looked at the Seeker who seemed genuinely angry now.
“All my life. All. My. Life I’ve had this. Why do you think I turned myself into a hermit on my lovely quiet planet?”
“Seeker-”
“Alex-”
“Just listen-”
They all nearly fell over each other in order to get him to listen, and he shook his head.
“No. You’ve had your say.”
Davros cackled.
“It would seem there is dissent in the ranks young Seeker...”
Unexpectedly, the Seeker’s mouth turned up at the corners.
“They’re not my ranks, they’re spectators. Which is why they’re so frustrated. But I want to have a word with you in peace and quiet, so...”
Stepping up to Davros he surveyed the control panel in front of the wizened figure.
“Ah yes, thought so.”
He reached out, Davros seemingly stunned into silence at his audacity, as the Seeker pressed some buttons and then pushed a small lever.
“And that should have done it. Sound able to enter, but not exit, those charming holding cells. Oh Doctor, your enemies know you far too well...”
Letting his eyes pass over them all, the small smile widened into a grin.
“I can see why dad enjoyed this kinda thing. And Davros - if you had a future I’d suggest making your tools isomorphic.”
Clara could see the others speaking, but no sound reached her ears. Realising that there was nothing they could do to influence the Seeker she tried to shut everything out, in what was probably a vain attempt at making sense of what was happening. Her emotions were so conflicted she didn’t even know where to start.
How to reconcile the Seeker’s quite genuine distress over her echo-self’s death with the current situation? Plus he’d been genuinely friendly when he’d had no need to. She’d liked him...
Eyes moving to the Tolafane, she felt that surely here lay the heart of the mystery. The thing that bridged the gap between the friendly young Time Lord and the dread she could read in the other’s eyes.
If only he hadn’t made it impossible for her to speak, she’d ask what they were...
Refocussing on the present she realised that the Seeker was now walking around Davros, studying him as if he was something precious and exquisite.
“The last Kaled...” he said softly. “You must be the rarest thing in the whole universe right now.” A puff of laughter, even as he shook his head. “I think I have goose bumps. You are... legend. I grew up with the stories...”
Turning on his heel he shot the Doctor a wide grin.
“Do you remember Doctor, when I was obsessed with Daleks? Filling all those notebooks with theories and speculation... Dad was especially fond of all my ideas about reproduction, although I suppose it was mostly all the detailed illustrations that amused him. How old was I? Nine?”
The Doctor didn’t answer, nor did the Seeker expect an answer as he turned back to Davros, gently letting his hands pass over Davros’ chest. “Growing new Daleks from your own body... I don’t think I ever thought of that. Genius. Like your big planet-engine out there...”
“Are you trying to flatter me, youngster?” Davros cut him off. “I do not need praise from upstarts. Soon enough you will understand the might that I wield. My children will destroy your toys and you will pay for this, mark my words. The universe will scream as it is torn apart, and so will you.”
The Seeker rolled his eyes.
“Oh great, the megalomanic speech. Hang on, I need something to sit on.”
Taking a few steps back to the nearest dead Dalek, he pushed it along until was positioned close to Davros, before kicking it over and nimbly jumping up and using it as a seat.
“Right then. Before we continue, I just want to reinforce how important it is for to you stay completely still. You can rant all you want, but you should know that poor Harvey here has had no fun at all for a very long time. I am reasonably certain he’ll do as I tell him, but if you give him the slightest opportunity he will slice you to ribbons. I even wore a practical coat in case of a situation like this. Blood’ll wash straight out - plus it’s black, so stains won’t show.”
A beat, then the seriousness fell off him.
“I’m trying so hard to keep calm and composed, but it’s not easy... This is- Well I hesitate to call it ‘A Dream Come True’, and yet, that said - I’m a little... disappointed? As evil plans go, literally destroying everything is... Are you familiar with the term ‘shooting yourself in the foot?’” He looked down at Davros' metal-encased lower body, tilted his head. “Probably not. Unless that's how you ended up like this in the first place? Anyway, you should have had a word with my Toclafane, they could have told you how much fun it is to sit around in the cold and the dark, with nothing to look forward to. Ever. And maniacal laughter does get old eventually.”
Davros sneered.
“You think to lecture me, child? Words will not win this ‘war’ you are deluding yourself you can fight.”
The Seeker shook his head, leaning forward.
“Look on it as a little interlude - I rather enjoy monologuing; probably the result of being the son of an evil overlord. And believe you me, you should listen carefully. Because you see, I might be the only person in the whole of the universe who understands you. I look at your Daleks and I understand why you think them beautiful. Truly I do. They’re pure. Singular. Absolute.”
He paused, eyes unfocussing, before slowly nodding.
“So... I guess I understand your plan after all. But complete purity is also stagnation. Sterile. Barren... And eventually self-defeating. Now my father might have been insane, but he understood that you cannot rule over the dead.”
Studying Davros, a sudden intensity came into his demeanour. He was outlined against blood red walls, his black-and-white profile stark and uncompromising. Clara shuddered involuntarily, wondering how he could shift between personas with such apparent ease. The cat comparison came back to her... It was like watching a cat crouching, watching its prey.
The others were all grim-faced by now, silently listening as they had no other choice, and she wondered just where things were now heading. He had talked of saving the universe, but if that was the case why were the others so worried? And why was he so determined to keep them locked up? Then he spoke again, and she listened carefully as she realised that he was finally speaking about himself and his motives:
“Dalek Caan called me the Child of Two Worlds - allow me to explain what that means, and why I will be the one to destroy you. I was born out of time, a child of a paradox. My father named me Alexander the Great, and I was the heir to an empire that was going to stretch across the whole of time and space. I was, quite literally, born to rule. So since you’ve killed him, I suppose it’s time for me to step forward and claim my inheritance. The universe is mine, and I don’t like people to touch my things.”
At this he jumped to his feet, hands held out, a wide grin on his face that was pure Harold Saxon.
“So tonight, Davros, I’m going to be... the Voodoo Child.”
The Doctor had been a silent statue throughout, but the effect of these words seemed to jolt him, to the extent that Clara’s worry levels once more went through the roof.
Davros however seemed unmoved and merely sneered.
“Your time is running out, Seeker. The Supreme Dalek will descend and you will die.”
His grin fading into a smug smile, the Seeker reached into his pocket and brought out something that looked like the Doctor’s sonic in size and shape, before adjusting the settings, frowning in concentration, much like the Doctor would.
“This is tricky, what with being a second out of sync. But don’t you worry, Davros - I’ll make my father proud today...”
The Doctor was now beating on the cell wall so persistently that the Seeker eventually noticed, before leaning forward and pressing a button on Davros’ control panel.
“Oh go on then, what is it?”
“Seeker... Stop, please! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
If the Doctor had hoped to affect a change of heart, he failed. The Seeker merely regarded him with perfect calm and resignation as he replied:
“Oh Doctor. I always know what I’m doing. It is my blessing and my curse. And I find it hard to believe you only worked out my plan just now.”
“No of course not, but quite frankly I didn’t think you’d be so stupid!”
The Seeker’s only reaction was a faint shake of the head, before he once more busied himself with whatever he was doing to the screwdriver. A beat, then he answered, voice still perfectly level:
“Stupid is as stupid does. Considering the very particular circumstances of this situation, this solution was the most expedient and appropriate. It also happens to be my favourite. Except I never found a way to add the music. But never mind. Can’t have everything.”
Being satisfied that his adjustments were complete, he shot Davros a swift glance.
“You’re being very quiet. Guess you reckon you’re invincible. Well let’s see who’s left standing when the war is done.”
Then he gazed upwards.
“Dad, this is for you. Wish you could have been here, it would have made your day. Everyone else-”
A swift glance encompassing them all.
“-sorry about the nightmares. Truly, I am. But that won’t stop me.”
Walking over to the main control panel he pressed a few buttons, and two screens appeared. One of them displayed the Medusa Cascade. The other showcased the Supreme Dalek and the myriad Daleks behind it.
“Hello Daleks,” the Seeker said, voice bright and cheerful. “I’m afraid the delay of the destruction of the universe wasn’t anything to do with technical glitches - it was me. And before you start to line up to shoot me, please be aware that as of now, you are at war. Because here come the drums...”
He held up the screwdriver, and for a few seconds nothing happened.
The Daleks on the screen began clamouring: “Intruder! Intruder! To the Vault! Exterminate!”, but then the whole of the Crucible seemed to shake and Clara’s attention shifted to the screen displaying the Medusa Cascade.
Outside the sky tore asunder, a tear in the fabric of reality itself, the edges ragged and raw, as an endless, endless stream of Toclafane cascaded out. There seemed to be a strange sort of rhythm or cadence to them, and after a few moments she realised that they were continually repeating the same words. Millions of metallic voices, sing-song-ing the same phrase over and over again, like some sort of demented childrens’ rhyme, chilling her in its unabashed gleefulness.
’We will fly and blaze and slice! We will fly and blaze and slice!’
No sooner had she wrapped her head around what she was hearing than the Daleks drowned out the spheres, shouting about being under attack and spilling out into the Medusa Cascade, firing at the Toclafane. After that chaos reigned, the fighting seemingly encompassing the entirety of their field of vision.
But Clara heard the Seeker speak, voice quietly triumphant as he stood back watching the unfolding battle:
“And so it came to pass, on the day of the War in the Medusa Cascade, that the Dalek race fell. And I looked down upon the destruction I wrought; and I thought it good.”
TBC.
kathyh enough for being a marvellous beta and helping me to wrestle it into submission.Beginning here if anyone is interested: Prologue. And Master post for the whole 'verse here.
Summary: "Why is it only ever the bad guys who have a proper plan?" The Master's son finally meets the Daleks. And he thought it a good day. (TSE/JE rewrite with Eleven and Clara and a host of extras.)
Setting: Future AU TSE/JE.
Spoilers: The Name of the Doctor (S7.13)
Rating: PG-13.
Characters: The Seeker (OC, the Master's son), Eleventh Doctor, Clara, the Master, Jack, River, Roda (OC), Davros, others.
Beta: The always lovely
kathyh.Thank yous: To
the_redjay for the loan of Roda.Feedback: Pretty please? I'm very curious to see what you think.
Chapter 4
For a few wonderful seconds, Clara felt only relief.
A sort of breathless, heart-beating-too-quickly relief, where she half expected to wake up in bed, the covers twisted and her brow covered in sweat, before realising that it had all been a dream.
(Sometimes all her echoes filtered through at night; and when she was in that liminal space between sleeping and waking she could sense untold lives and worlds hovering on the edge of her awareness, almost tangible until she tried to hold onto them, when they evaporated in wisps of smoke.)
But this was no dream; no echo.
It was far too real, and - until the Seeker had spoken up - she had been trying to wrap her head around the fact that the Doctor was helpless. That they had lost... That everything was lost.
Except salvation had arrived at the very last second.
The strange metal spheres looked somehow familiar, albeit with oddly ominous overtones that she couldn’t immediately place. Dismissing her vague unease she turned to the others - and her spontaneous relief faltered. All of them looked to be at various stages between horrified disbelief (the Doctor), apprehensive caution (River), through shock (Jack) to suspicious incredulity (Roda).
The Seeker continued speaking, seemingly unaware of the effect he was having, although now he was clearly addressing the spheres.
“Harvey - see the cyclops in the bath chair? If he moves so much as his little finger even a fraction of a millimetre - cut off his hand!”
There was a tching noise, as sharp blades suddenly projected out from the metal casing, and the sphere flew off.
“Bonnie, Clyde - take out the Daleks and secure the room. Princess - if you can, stop the countdown. And get me - but only me - out of this holding cell.”
“As you wish Lord Seeker,” they replied, their voices metallic yet playful, as they scattered.
For a few moments chaos reigned, as the Daleks and the spheres fought, but the metal balls were smaller and more agile than their adversaries, fairly easily outmanoeuvring the more unwieldy Daleks, and Clara was suddenly grateful for her holding cell, as the shots bounced right off the see-through surface.
Trying not to jump every time the cell was hit, she turned to the Doctor and realised that he had seemingly turned to stone.
“Doctor... the metal balls? What are they?”
He shot her an inscrutable look, and when he replied his voice was harsh and strangely bitter:
“They’re not his friends. They’re no one’s friends.”
And that’s as far as they got, since at that point the fighting let up, the smoke cleared, and they realised the Seeker was now standing by one of the main consoles, tapping out something or other.
The next moment the countdown stopped.
“That’s better,” he smiled, as casual and relaxed as if chatting over a cup of tea in the kitchen. "Why do villains never read Peter’s Evil Overlord List? Countdowns should never go to zero, they should go off while the heroes are still busy implementing their plan. Although I am aware that I should count my blessings today...”
They all stared, no one sure what to say, and it was Davros who eventually broke the stunned silence.
“What is the meaning of this prattle? Your little toys can’t keep this up for long, child.”
The Seeker stood up straight, arms crossed, and his eyes were calm but dangerous:
“Oh they’re not toys. They’re called the Toclafane, and in case you didn’t notice, three of them just destroyed eight of your Daleks with no difficulty at all. But I better make it official I suppose - Davros, I am declaring war. I could even do it in the name of the Shadow Proclamation I suppose... But I don’t really need them, what with being rather brilliant and more than capable on taking you on alone.”
As he spoke, Clara with a jolt remembered why the spheres looked familiar. It had been the day after the election, back in 2007 (the first time she voted, she’d felt terribly grown-up), watching the TV avidly because of the strange ‘aliens’ that were going to appear. There had been President Winters, befuddled as the floating balls - ‘Toclafane’, such an odd name - spoke of a ‘Mister Master’ who turned out to be Harold Saxon... She took a swift breath. The Master! The Seeker’s father, of course. And he’d looked just like the Seeker did now - never mind the different face - just before he’d had the President murdered...
“I should have had you killed before you ever entered this room,” Davros rasped, and the Seeker grinned.
“Oh yes you should. And even so, I am going to leave you alive, just for a little while longer... It’s risky, but dammit I’m not going to waste a chance like this.”
Before Davros could reply, the Doctor spoke up, voice cautious and his hands twisted together in a manner that belied the relative composure of his face.
“Good, very good. Very nice impersonation of your father. You’ve got the upper hand, you can let us out now...”
The Seeker let his eyes pass over them speculatively, before turning to Davros again.
“Oh, do excuse me, Davros. Little bit of personal business. Back in a minute.”
Swiftly tapping something else out on the console, he smirked.
“Also sent the Supreme Dalek a message that there was an unexpected problem, but you’re working to fix it. Should give us a good 500 rels at least...”
Then, walking over to the Doctor, the Seeker studied him for a moment, then shook his head.
“Let you out? Not a chance. Remember my rant earlier on? About why it’s only the bad guys who have a plan? I was being slightly economical with the truth. I have a plan. Several, as a matter of fact. Actually...”
He looked over his shoulder.
“Caan? I’m very much looking forward to finding out why you’ve been lying... But for the moment - are there any prophecies you can now divulge? Anything about me, say?”
They all waited as the deformed Dalek (or was that how they all looked underneath their shells? Clara shuddered to think) took a moment before speaking:
“This I saw through the fire and the strife: The Child of Two Worlds will break the Doctor’s hearts.”
The Seeker’s eyes slowly fastened on the Doctor once more.
“Not exactly what I was expecting,” the Seeker eventually said, “but certainly accurate. Think I’ve probably broken one already and am well on my way to break the other one. Sorry Doctor - really I am. But life’s not fair.”
A pause.
“Although I like ‘Child of Two Worlds’. Yes, that’s good. I’ll keep that.”
The Doctor took a deep breath and tried again.
“Seeker - please. Listen to me. Just let me out-”
But the Seeker’s eyes had turned hard again.
“No. You meddle, and you’re severely emotionally compromised at the moment.”
“Emotionally comp-” the Doctor began, breaking off mid-word. “Your father died, and I’m emotionally compromised?”
“What’s this?” River asked, and Clara could see Jack and Roda suddenly standing up straight in their cells.
The Seeker turned to the three of them and explained.
“The Daleks destroyed the TARDIS - my father was inside at the time. It was an unforeseen event. I hate unknown unknowns, they’re fiendishly hard to anticipate, not to mention complicated to respond to.”
He left the sentence hanging, but the Doctor had abruptly gone pale and drawn and desperate.
“You could have saved them?”
A long pause as the Seeker stared into the distance.
“Probably not. Well, about... 8% probability. But it would have compromised everything, and the odds were much too unfavourable.”
The Doctor looked all hollow, like he had on Trenzalore when the Whisper Men were attacking...
“And it cost your father his life.”
The Seeker’s eyes narrowed, and their green colour - as well as his obvious self-containment - suddenly reminded Clara of a cat... It wasn’t a bad comparison she thought. Maybe he was like ‘The Cat that Walked by Himself’ - tolerating company perfectly equitably, but not needing it. Yet what did that mean for the current situation?
“I’m going to save the universe. I wasn’t even a year old when I learned that you don’t do that without sacrifices. Besides, Roda will be happy.”
They both turned, and Roda’s face was the most carefully studied neutral mask Clara had ever seen.
“I am sorry for your loss,” she said, without any inflection at all.
“Thank you, Redjay,” he replied, his tone equally neutral, before briskly getting back to the initial bone of contention.
“Anyway, not letting you out, and not discussing it, although I can give you reasons. Clara - you seem lovely, and I’m sure you’re very handy in a crisis, but apparently you have an unfortunate tendency towards self sacrifice and dying. River-”
He hesitated slightly, as he moved along the holding cells.
“Well, Doctor Song, you have the right attitude. If I need another pair of hands, you’ll probably be it.”
“Why thank you,” she replied, perfectly deadpan, and he smiled.
“Don’t mention it. Jack- your plan was idiotic, so I’m cross with you. Roda...”
For the first time he hesitated. Roda - or the Redjay, clearly all Time Lords had several names, most of them peculiar - watched him intently. She was about River’s height, her auburn hair interwoven with red feathers, the simplicity indicated by her brown trousers and white shirt belied by the intensity of her gaze, which now made the Seeker almost falter.
“I... guess this is the real reason why you stopped - will stop - seeing me.”
“Depends what you do,” she replied, voice cautious. “The new face was a bit of a surprise. How recent?”
“I’m from the future - relative to you and Jack at least. Been a bit of a hermit for the past few years - more so than usual. Busy with new projects.”
“So I see,” she said, shooting the Toclafane a piercing glance. “This new model is a bit more shades of grey, huh?”
Not interested in the love affairs of others when there were more important issues to focus on, Clara tried to catch the Doctor’s attention. Dalek Caan’s words had reminded her of the prophecy she had been told, and although it was probably too late, she wanted to tell him...
“Doctor!” she half-hissed, half-whispered. “Listen! There is something I need to tell you!”
Eventually he turned, and she told herself very firmly that she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by the pain she could read in his eyes...
“I was told a prophecy by the lady at the Shadow Proclamation.”
He did a double take, finally focussing on her properly.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I... there- there wasn’t really time. But she said...” She concentrated, trying to push her feelings aside and just repeat what she’d heard. “She said that not even dying would prevent today’s heartbreak. And... She said not to trust the man in black, because he’s his father’s son and today he will lay claim to his birth right.”
For the longest moment the Doctor only looked at her; old, old eyes in that long youthful face, the forelock falling over his forehead in almost comical fashion. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head, even as he couldn’t help but glance at the spheres.
“No. No, he wouldn’t,” he whispered. “He wouldn’t do that. Surely...”
But the sudden dread in his eyes was unmistakable.
(The Seeker’s face, resigned to causing heartbreak... What could he be planning? She no longer feared for herself or the world - just wondered how much more her poor Doctor could cope with. What would he do without his TARDIS?)
Worried, she refocussed her attention on the Seeker and Roda.
“Roda - I know you’re claustrophobic, but I can only let you out if you promise not to interfere - no matter what happens.”
She studied him silently for a long moment, and then eventually shook her head.
“No. Sorry, but no.”
He sighed.
“Then you’re staying where you are. Sorry.”
“Fine,” she said, almost with a hint of sulking. The Seeker stepped back, as the Doctor almost exploded.
“Roda? What are you doing?”
She shot him a cool look.
“I know what you’re thinking. But I won’t lie to him. And I won’t betray him. He trusts me.”
Jack, too, looked fit to burst, although he tried to keep his voice calm.
“Roda I understand, I love him too, but of all the times for you to be clinging to your principles...”
At this point River cut in.
“Oh leave Roda alone, just because she is keeping her head there’s no need for you to lose yours. Look, the lad’s got a plan, he’s on a bit of a power trip, it’ll wear off. Who here hasn’t been in his shoes? Let him have some fun for a while.”
“Fun?” the Doctor’s voice took incredulity to new heights. “Fun? River you can’t possibly be serious-”
“Shut up!”
Silence fell as they all looked at the Seeker who seemed genuinely angry now.
“All my life. All. My. Life I’ve had this. Why do you think I turned myself into a hermit on my lovely quiet planet?”
“Seeker-”
“Alex-”
“Just listen-”
They all nearly fell over each other in order to get him to listen, and he shook his head.
“No. You’ve had your say.”
Davros cackled.
“It would seem there is dissent in the ranks young Seeker...”
Unexpectedly, the Seeker’s mouth turned up at the corners.
“They’re not my ranks, they’re spectators. Which is why they’re so frustrated. But I want to have a word with you in peace and quiet, so...”
Stepping up to Davros he surveyed the control panel in front of the wizened figure.
“Ah yes, thought so.”
He reached out, Davros seemingly stunned into silence at his audacity, as the Seeker pressed some buttons and then pushed a small lever.
“And that should have done it. Sound able to enter, but not exit, those charming holding cells. Oh Doctor, your enemies know you far too well...”
Letting his eyes pass over them all, the small smile widened into a grin.
“I can see why dad enjoyed this kinda thing. And Davros - if you had a future I’d suggest making your tools isomorphic.”
Clara could see the others speaking, but no sound reached her ears. Realising that there was nothing they could do to influence the Seeker she tried to shut everything out, in what was probably a vain attempt at making sense of what was happening. Her emotions were so conflicted she didn’t even know where to start.
How to reconcile the Seeker’s quite genuine distress over her echo-self’s death with the current situation? Plus he’d been genuinely friendly when he’d had no need to. She’d liked him...
Eyes moving to the Tolafane, she felt that surely here lay the heart of the mystery. The thing that bridged the gap between the friendly young Time Lord and the dread she could read in the other’s eyes.
If only he hadn’t made it impossible for her to speak, she’d ask what they were...
Refocussing on the present she realised that the Seeker was now walking around Davros, studying him as if he was something precious and exquisite.
“The last Kaled...” he said softly. “You must be the rarest thing in the whole universe right now.” A puff of laughter, even as he shook his head. “I think I have goose bumps. You are... legend. I grew up with the stories...”
Turning on his heel he shot the Doctor a wide grin.
“Do you remember Doctor, when I was obsessed with Daleks? Filling all those notebooks with theories and speculation... Dad was especially fond of all my ideas about reproduction, although I suppose it was mostly all the detailed illustrations that amused him. How old was I? Nine?”
The Doctor didn’t answer, nor did the Seeker expect an answer as he turned back to Davros, gently letting his hands pass over Davros’ chest. “Growing new Daleks from your own body... I don’t think I ever thought of that. Genius. Like your big planet-engine out there...”
“Are you trying to flatter me, youngster?” Davros cut him off. “I do not need praise from upstarts. Soon enough you will understand the might that I wield. My children will destroy your toys and you will pay for this, mark my words. The universe will scream as it is torn apart, and so will you.”
The Seeker rolled his eyes.
“Oh great, the megalomanic speech. Hang on, I need something to sit on.”
Taking a few steps back to the nearest dead Dalek, he pushed it along until was positioned close to Davros, before kicking it over and nimbly jumping up and using it as a seat.
“Right then. Before we continue, I just want to reinforce how important it is for to you stay completely still. You can rant all you want, but you should know that poor Harvey here has had no fun at all for a very long time. I am reasonably certain he’ll do as I tell him, but if you give him the slightest opportunity he will slice you to ribbons. I even wore a practical coat in case of a situation like this. Blood’ll wash straight out - plus it’s black, so stains won’t show.”
A beat, then the seriousness fell off him.
“I’m trying so hard to keep calm and composed, but it’s not easy... This is- Well I hesitate to call it ‘A Dream Come True’, and yet, that said - I’m a little... disappointed? As evil plans go, literally destroying everything is... Are you familiar with the term ‘shooting yourself in the foot?’” He looked down at Davros' metal-encased lower body, tilted his head. “Probably not. Unless that's how you ended up like this in the first place? Anyway, you should have had a word with my Toclafane, they could have told you how much fun it is to sit around in the cold and the dark, with nothing to look forward to. Ever. And maniacal laughter does get old eventually.”
Davros sneered.
“You think to lecture me, child? Words will not win this ‘war’ you are deluding yourself you can fight.”
The Seeker shook his head, leaning forward.
“Look on it as a little interlude - I rather enjoy monologuing; probably the result of being the son of an evil overlord. And believe you me, you should listen carefully. Because you see, I might be the only person in the whole of the universe who understands you. I look at your Daleks and I understand why you think them beautiful. Truly I do. They’re pure. Singular. Absolute.”
He paused, eyes unfocussing, before slowly nodding.
“So... I guess I understand your plan after all. But complete purity is also stagnation. Sterile. Barren... And eventually self-defeating. Now my father might have been insane, but he understood that you cannot rule over the dead.”
Studying Davros, a sudden intensity came into his demeanour. He was outlined against blood red walls, his black-and-white profile stark and uncompromising. Clara shuddered involuntarily, wondering how he could shift between personas with such apparent ease. The cat comparison came back to her... It was like watching a cat crouching, watching its prey.
The others were all grim-faced by now, silently listening as they had no other choice, and she wondered just where things were now heading. He had talked of saving the universe, but if that was the case why were the others so worried? And why was he so determined to keep them locked up? Then he spoke again, and she listened carefully as she realised that he was finally speaking about himself and his motives:
“Dalek Caan called me the Child of Two Worlds - allow me to explain what that means, and why I will be the one to destroy you. I was born out of time, a child of a paradox. My father named me Alexander the Great, and I was the heir to an empire that was going to stretch across the whole of time and space. I was, quite literally, born to rule. So since you’ve killed him, I suppose it’s time for me to step forward and claim my inheritance. The universe is mine, and I don’t like people to touch my things.”
At this he jumped to his feet, hands held out, a wide grin on his face that was pure Harold Saxon.
“So tonight, Davros, I’m going to be... the Voodoo Child.”
The Doctor had been a silent statue throughout, but the effect of these words seemed to jolt him, to the extent that Clara’s worry levels once more went through the roof.
Davros however seemed unmoved and merely sneered.
“Your time is running out, Seeker. The Supreme Dalek will descend and you will die.”
His grin fading into a smug smile, the Seeker reached into his pocket and brought out something that looked like the Doctor’s sonic in size and shape, before adjusting the settings, frowning in concentration, much like the Doctor would.
“This is tricky, what with being a second out of sync. But don’t you worry, Davros - I’ll make my father proud today...”
The Doctor was now beating on the cell wall so persistently that the Seeker eventually noticed, before leaning forward and pressing a button on Davros’ control panel.
“Oh go on then, what is it?”
“Seeker... Stop, please! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
If the Doctor had hoped to affect a change of heart, he failed. The Seeker merely regarded him with perfect calm and resignation as he replied:
“Oh Doctor. I always know what I’m doing. It is my blessing and my curse. And I find it hard to believe you only worked out my plan just now.”
“No of course not, but quite frankly I didn’t think you’d be so stupid!”
The Seeker’s only reaction was a faint shake of the head, before he once more busied himself with whatever he was doing to the screwdriver. A beat, then he answered, voice still perfectly level:
“Stupid is as stupid does. Considering the very particular circumstances of this situation, this solution was the most expedient and appropriate. It also happens to be my favourite. Except I never found a way to add the music. But never mind. Can’t have everything.”
Being satisfied that his adjustments were complete, he shot Davros a swift glance.
“You’re being very quiet. Guess you reckon you’re invincible. Well let’s see who’s left standing when the war is done.”
Then he gazed upwards.
“Dad, this is for you. Wish you could have been here, it would have made your day. Everyone else-”
A swift glance encompassing them all.
“-sorry about the nightmares. Truly, I am. But that won’t stop me.”
Walking over to the main control panel he pressed a few buttons, and two screens appeared. One of them displayed the Medusa Cascade. The other showcased the Supreme Dalek and the myriad Daleks behind it.
“Hello Daleks,” the Seeker said, voice bright and cheerful. “I’m afraid the delay of the destruction of the universe wasn’t anything to do with technical glitches - it was me. And before you start to line up to shoot me, please be aware that as of now, you are at war. Because here come the drums...”
He held up the screwdriver, and for a few seconds nothing happened.
The Daleks on the screen began clamouring: “Intruder! Intruder! To the Vault! Exterminate!”, but then the whole of the Crucible seemed to shake and Clara’s attention shifted to the screen displaying the Medusa Cascade.
Outside the sky tore asunder, a tear in the fabric of reality itself, the edges ragged and raw, as an endless, endless stream of Toclafane cascaded out. There seemed to be a strange sort of rhythm or cadence to them, and after a few moments she realised that they were continually repeating the same words. Millions of metallic voices, sing-song-ing the same phrase over and over again, like some sort of demented childrens’ rhyme, chilling her in its unabashed gleefulness.
’We will fly and blaze and slice! We will fly and blaze and slice!’
No sooner had she wrapped her head around what she was hearing than the Daleks drowned out the spheres, shouting about being under attack and spilling out into the Medusa Cascade, firing at the Toclafane. After that chaos reigned, the fighting seemingly encompassing the entirety of their field of vision.
But Clara heard the Seeker speak, voice quietly triumphant as he stood back watching the unfolding battle:
“And so it came to pass, on the day of the War in the Medusa Cascade, that the Dalek race fell. And I looked down upon the destruction I wrought; and I thought it good.”
TBC.
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“Probably not. Well, about... 8% probability. But it would have compromised everything, and the odds were much too unfavourable.”
I've never seen old Who, so I might be totally off base here, but from the little I've seen in fanfic, Seeker in this section is sort of how I envisioned the Rani - that unemotional calculation that only cares about results.
I think what's getting to me here is Seeker's sheer dispassionate competence and control of the situation, mixed with his exasperation at almost everyone (the Doctor, Davros, Jack), the humor (Peter's Evil Overlord list *grin*), and the echos of his father. It's a potent mix.
As evil plans go, literally destroying everything is... Are you familiar with the term ‘shooting yourself in the foot?’”
Love this. Because, really??
Channeling my inner 5-year old now and banging silverware on the table. More. More. We want more...
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Have to tell you that the Toclafane names you came up with resulted in a bizarre set of mental images: Harvey - 6 ft invisible rabbit (and yes, I'm dating myself), Bonnie and Clyde - well... Bonnie and Clyde, Princess - my long haired black cat, who is occasionally rather scary...
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OMG! Scary!Seeker channeling the Master is scary. That last line is killer.
*beams* (It's always difficult to judge how something comes across to others. Am thrilled to bits that it's working as intended!)
I'm rather on Seeker's side re the objective (as, I expect are Jack and River), but the method is appalling.
Heh. There is reason in the madness, you'll see. But it's certainly walking on the darker side of morality.
And you know, I actually expected this chapter to resolve some questions. Silly me.
*is evil writer*
I've never seen old Who, so I might be totally off base here, but from the little I've seen in fanfic, Seeker in this section is sort of how I envisioned the Rani - that unemotional calculation that only cares about results.
Oh that's quite deliberate. When he looked into the Schism he was inspired, and he is well aware that his weakness is getting carried away by the greater picture, and what he can do. He can see himself in Davros, appreciate the craftmanship in the Daleks' creation... So yes, he could fall very easily if he didn't take care.
I think what's getting to me here is Seeker's sheer dispassionate competence and control of the situation, mixed with his exasperation at almost everyone (the Doctor, Davros, Jack), the humor (Peter's Evil Overlord list *grin*), and the echos of his father. It's a potent mix.
He doesn't often 'put on a show' - but when he does, he rules! Also he *has* been planning this for a very long time. He's not good at the Doctor's on-the-spot improvisation, but give him time and resources and he can do almost anything. Because he is focussed and can cut out his emotions.
Love this. Because, really??
It was a STUPID plan. It felt good to point that out. *g*
Channeling my inner 5-year old now and banging silverware on the table. More. More. We want more...
I'll get there, honestly. Esp if the next chapter is better behaved. (Can't be worse.)
Have to tell you that the Toclafane names you came up with resulted in a bizarre set of mental images: Harvey - 6 ft invisible rabbit (and yes, I'm dating myself), Bonnie and Clyde - well... Bonnie and Clyde, Princess - my long haired black cat, who is occasionally rather scary...
Oh yes, the names. I'll explain them in-story later on, so will not tell you if you're right or wrong just yet. ;)
Thank you SO MUCH for your wonderful comment, it has totally made my day! ♥
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It was a STUPID plan. It felt good to point that out
We seem to react to a lot of the same stuff, in terms of WTF-type plans. I LOVE it when you take swipes at the same stuff that I mumble about when I watch the episode.
Thank you SO MUCH for your wonderful comment
I try to leave decent comments in any case, but knowing that I'll get interesting replies back inspires me take more time.
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SQUEE!
Unfortunately, it will have to wait for a couple of weeks cause RL is about to get busy (I'm vending at a trade show next week). Don't know if I'll have computer access when I'm away :( so I might have to catch up when I get back.
Well they're not going anywhere. And they're LONG. Well, most of them are manageable (8000 - 16000 words approx), but one of them is VERY (and I mean novel-length) long. So just dip in when you can, I'm just thrilled that someone is reading. *flails quietly* (Just go to the Master Post, everything is there.)
We seem to react to a lot of the same stuff, in terms of WTF-type plans. I LOVE it when you take swipes at the same stuff that I mumble about when I watch the episode.
Heh. I am generally fandom's Pollyanna, so I try to maintain a positive outlook (I've read The Writers Tale, how poor RTD didn't go mad I don't know), yet fic often provides an opportunity to deal with all the issues that are... unresolved.
I try to leave decent comments in any case, but knowing that I'll get interesting replies back inspires me take more time.
♥ ♥ ♥ (I live for feedback. And I know just what you mean - there are writers who, no matter what you write, get back to you with a 'Thanks'. Me OTOH could talk about this stuff forever. So if people talk - I'll talk back! :D
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OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!!!!
I AM SCREAMING. WHERES THE REST?! WHERE?!
OMG.
*CLAWS AT YOU*
GIMMMMEEE!!
*SOBS*
*CLINGS*
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Although that's a marvellous reaction and I'd hug you to bits if you were here. Will try my darnedest to make sure the next chapter doesn't take a month, PROMISE!
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I'm so sad for him. :(
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And well, I would say... wait and see. Moments come and go. The ability to rub it in the Doctor's face - that's forever. ;)
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It's a tragedy of epic proportions!
Video. Pulling memories. Listening to stories .... all pale to seeing HIS son take charge .... break the Doctor's hearts .... disappoint Jack .... run off Roda .... it's all the holidays rolled into one!
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It's a tragedy of epic proportions!
When you put it like that...
Video. Pulling memories. Listening to stories .... all pale to seeing HIS son take charge .... break the Doctor's hearts .... disappoint Jack .... run off Roda .... it's all the holidays rolled into one!
Alas, such is life. And he's evil anyway. Who says he deserves good things? >:)
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You are incredibly cruel. ;p
He will be insufferably proud when he finds out.
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You are incredibly cruel. ;p
I'm a writer. Of course I'm cruel.
He will be insufferably proud when he finds out.
No kidding. Just wait...
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I might ... just might ... feel a little bad for the rest of the gang.
.....
Nah.....
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But sometimes that's just not possible...
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The OC voice in my head is happy.
I'm happy.
:)
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I'm with Maggie. Not really feeling sorry for the rest of the gang. Well, maybe Clara and Roda.
The Doctor's had that coming for a long, long time.
(It is amusing to me to discover that the Daleks had a plan. Beyond talking the Doctor to death. Yes, I wasn't paying attention.)
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:D :D :D
I'm with Maggie. Not really feeling sorry for the rest of the gang. Well, maybe Clara and Roda.
Clara is just completely out of the loop and unsure what's even happening and unable to make it all fit. The next chapter will explain things a little more and she should be better. (What bothers her most is that she can't figure any of it out. So she doesn't know how to feel.) Roda... Roda is interesting actually. I'd say she's some sort of Fi, as her values are very very deeply held, and very personal. (For example she counts the Seeker as a friend, and won't betray his trust. Even though it would logically be by far the most sensible thing to do from their POV. The Master, incidentally, is a very old adversary, and she has suffered very greatly at his hands. So to have his son as not just a friend but lover - is something she takes very seriously.)
The Doctor's had that coming for a long, long time.
Fic is a MARVELLOUS way of dealing with issues that repeatedly crop up.
(It is amusing to me to discover that the Daleks had a plan. Beyond talking the Doctor to death. Yes, I wasn't paying attention.)
LOL. To be fair, it was a STUPID plan. And one that was very much written to fit the plot. (I'm presuming you know what I mean.)
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Loved the "emotionally compromised" bit and the Doctor half-choking at that, and the way the Seeker evoked his father's death just gave me chills—it's fascinating, how matter-of-fact and detached he is once more, never emotional, always reasoning and thinking in probabilities. Sacrifices, necessary. Loved his eyes flashing harshly at the Doctor's remark, and Clara being reminded of a cat. Yes, it's spot-on. And the Doctor's pain and disbelief later on, when Clara told him of the other prophecy—pretty moving, as was how much Clara felt for him and his pain.
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Yay!
And oh, dear god, the Seeker is having his moment here. It's bewildering and fascinating to see, with all the others utterly helpless and various shades of horrified.
And he is just loving it... (This was WAY too much fun to write.)
I love Clara's instinctive relief (and that waking-after-a-dream parallel, with the insight about the echoes and the way they influenced her/she perceived them…), then her looking around and reading in the varied, but all very apprehensive reactions of the others that things were not as good as she might have hoped, quite far from it in fact.
Clara is quite a good POV character because she is quite lost and so needs stuff explaining. Plus she is simply interesting in and of herself - and she's very perceptive.
Love the Seeker's interactions with the Toclafane (my GOD their NAMES hahaha I love you. Bonnie. And. Clyde.)
I'll go into more detail, there's reasons behind all of them. :)
the Doctor's clipped comment about the Toclafane not being his friends or anyone's
He's already in shock. He could have done without one of his personal nightmares popping out of nowhere. *pets the poor Doctor*
and the Seeker's priceless little comment about the Evil Overlord list—well, for someone who follows that, I couldn't help noticing that he went for the let-me-explain-myself-and-have-fun-at-your-expanse monologue ;) But that's after securing everyone, foes and now-very-reluctant-used-to-be-allies alike, and making sure the Daleks wouldn't interrupt, so I suppose he's vastly clever, careful and thorough enough to pull it off. So he had his fun. XD River really got him spot-on with that remark.
Yes, he is very aware of the clichés he's indulging in. But he does take care to secure everything first - he is quite the little control freak and has a whole checklist in his head. :)
I really enjoyed the way you handled all the interactions—the Doctor's wariness as he asked the Seeker to let them out, the Seeker reminding about his earlier comment about plans, his turning to Caan, his reaction at the prophecy. He was so quietly matter-of-fact, like "I'm sorry I am having to do this, but don't think for a second that I'm not going to do it anyway". Breaking his two hearts, the Seeker commenting that life is not fair, it's all great.
The 'life isn't fair' is a theme, actually. If/when you read the earlier stories, you'll see it crop up. And find out how he became so pragmatic. (And it's a side the Doctor hasn't really seen before - partly because the Seeker hasn't really shown him.)
And he followed up on that solemn moment by commenting he liked being called the Child of Two Worlds, hahaha. It's neat.
It certainly beats 'The Orphan'. ;) Also it works beautifully, and in several ways. (He's not terribly poetic, but he appreciates it when someone phrases something perfectly.)
Loved the "emotionally compromised" bit and the Doctor half-choking at that,
But he SO is. *g*
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*laughs and twirls*
And he is just loving it... (This was WAY too much fun to write.)
Yay and yay ;)
Clara is quite a good POV character because she is quite lost and so needs stuff explaining. Plus she is simply interesting in and of herself - and she's very perceptive.
Yes, it works out well with the story :) Love Clara.
I'll go into more detail, there's reasons behind all of them. :)
I can't wait to find out :D
He's already in shock. He could have done without one of his personal nightmares popping out of nowhere. *pets the poor Doctor*
*joins the petting*
Yes, he is very aware of the clichés he's indulging in. But he does take care to secure everything first - he is quite the little control freak and has a whole checklist in his head. :)
Safe indulging ftw! ;)
The 'life isn't fair' is a theme, actually. If/when you read the earlier stories, you'll see it crop up. And find out how he became so pragmatic. (And it's a side the Doctor hasn't really seen before - partly because the Seeker hasn't really shown him.)
*cheers for character consistency*
It certainly beats 'The Orphan'. ;) Also it works beautifully, and in several ways.
*thumbs up*
But he SO is. *g*
That's for sure. ;)
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Who wouldn't? /rhetorical question
Safe indulging ftw! ;)
Like River said - he's having fun.
*cheers for character consistency*
Oh this is when everything comes to a head. So much has been building towards this point.
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Oh well, some don't… But everyone is entitled to their own tastes =P *covers Clara with love*
Like River said - he's having fun.
Fun indeed. XD
Oh this is when everything comes to a head. So much has been building towards this point.
That's the exciting thing about doing such a huge fic… The reward for all the hard work on verse-building and continuity ;) ♥
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Indeed. *draws hearts around Clara*
That's the exciting thing about doing such a huge fic… The reward for all the hard work on verse-building and continuity ;) ♥
And can I make it make sense for newcomers also, that's the question... *g*
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*waves hand* If I can be considered a newcomer, I do believe it all holds together neatly ;) Granted, I had a bit of Alex knowledge, even without having actually seen him in fics as an adult.
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and the way the Seeker evoked his father's death just gave me chills—it's fascinating, how matter-of-fact and detached he is once more, never emotional, always reasoning and thinking in probabilities. Sacrifices, necessary.
He has emotions, very deep ones, but he can sort of pause them, or leave them until later... I'm not quite sure how to explain it, but there is a terribly rational side to him. He's sorry about not being able to save the TARDIS & his father, but with the whole universe in the balance it wasn't much of a choice. (Plus his father was evil, and on the whole the world will be better off without him. Personally he will miss him, but that's something else. He feels far worse about the TARDIS, because he knows the Doctor's bond with the TARDIS is so very deep.)
Loved his eyes flashing harshly at the Doctor's remark, and Clara being reminded of a cat. Yes, it's spot-on.
He is very self-contained. And later he will retreat and 'lick his wounds' but that's private.
And the Doctor's pain and disbelief later on, when Clara told him of the other prophecy—pretty moving, as was how much Clara felt for him and his pain.
The Seeker is the closest he has to a son, he's brought him up, looked after him... And now, it seems as if the boy is taking after the Master after all. Nothing makes sense.
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I know it isn't exactly what you are going for because the context, the character and the reasons are different, but it reminds me of that Two scene—if you've seen it or read it quoted—when he tells Victoria that his family is put aside in his mind, and he only remembers them when he actually wants to. The rest of the time they sleep in my mind, and I forget. Coping techniques… My mind just made the association.
I'm not quite sure how to explain it, but there is a terribly rational side to him. He's sorry about not being able to save the TARDIS & his father, but with the whole universe in the balance it wasn't much of a choice.
Yes, I think I see what you mean. Like he knows his priorities, knows what he has to do, and he won't let himself be distracted from that by things he can do nothing about. His abilities to focus and compartmentalize are really impressive, with quite the chilling edge.
Plus his father was evil, and on the whole the world will be better off without him. Personally he will miss him, but that's something else.
Plus the lucidity, that's very Seeker. He would never allow his feelings to blind him.
He feels far worse about the TARDIS, because he knows the Doctor's bond with the TARDIS is so very deep.
♥
He is very self-contained. And later he will retreat and 'lick his wounds' but that's private.
I love it. ♥
The Seeker is the closest he has to a son, he's brought him up, looked after him... And now, it seems as if the boy is taking after the Master after all. Nothing makes sense.
*insert sound of heartbroken empathy*
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Oh absolutely. I love that scene, because it shows how much control Time Lords can have over their mind. And let's just say the Seeker is a lot more organised than the Doctor! *g*
Yes, I think I see what you mean. Like he knows his priorities, knows what he has to do, and he won't let himself be distracted from that by things he can do nothing about. His abilities to focus and compartmentalize are really impressive, with quite the chilling edge.
*nods a lot* But also it is quite simply how he functions. It's different, but that doesn't mean it's wrong.
Plus the lucidity, that's very Seeker. He would never allow his feelings to blind him.
Well, he would try very very hard not to let them. He knows how dangerous that could be, and is thus very wary of emotions and what they can lead people to do.
*insert sound of heartbroken empathy*
They'll have a big hearts-to-hearts in the next chapter. Whether that'll make anything better is of course something else again...
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All of this! ♥
But also it is quite simply how he functions. It's different, but that doesn't mean it's wrong.
Indeed.
Well, he would try very very hard not to let them. He knows how dangerous that could be, and is thus very wary of emotions and what they can lead people to do.
*more nodding* (Lol.)
They'll have a big hearts-to-hearts in the next chapter. Whether that'll make anything better is of course something else again...
Can't wait to see that! (But no pressure!)
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I've got it all planned out, but not in exact detail. I just know the way the conversations will go. And the cliffhanger to end on. ::evil grin::
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The command that blocked sound from coming out—indeed his foes knew the Doctor well, and I like how distraught and lost Clara felt at that point, her confusion about the Seeker's behaviour as opposed to what she'd seen of him before. While the Seeker was busy with his fascination for knowledge, the legend Davros represented, reminiscing about how fascinated by Daleks he had been as he was only a child. I just LOVED his eyeroll at Davros' megalomaniac, and his taking a fallen Dalek for a seat. Oh, that is just too good. That little speech he had himself there, shamelessly playing on the evil-speech trope, complete with pointed threats with the Toclafane and so much hilarious sarcasm. The Seeker knows all about evil overlords, and he's only indulging in the thrill of it a little because he trusts his own control. He knows what he's doing, why he's doing it, and he just allows himself to enjoy it.
I love the fact that he understood Davros' obsession with purity, his whole ideology in the creation of the Daleks, yet he was also so lucid about the limits. Purity doesn't evolve and even the Daleks could only live on when they "soiled" themselves with what they considered to be impure. I love the description of him at that point, striking and ominous, the switch between personas and how unsettled and frightened Clara felt. His talk about himself—in comes the megalomania, now. ;) The parts about the Master, the universe being his. It's brilliant. His grin was all Harold Saxon. The Voodoo Child, the Doctor's desperation. His begging was all wrong, because oh, the Seeker knew exactly what he was doing. And he'd chosen to do it. No begging would convince him.
The Seeker's lines are perfect. It being for his father, apologizing for the nightmares. “Stupid is as stupid does. Considering the very particular circumstances of this situation, this solution was the most expedient and appropriate. It also happens to be my favourite. Except I never found a way to add the music. But never mind. Can’t have everything.” I just xskkzgzm. Love the description of the countless Toclafane, and the Seeker's last line—now you're not only rewriting the s4 finale, it's s3 reborn too and it's glorious! Never been more spot-on :D
♥
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Let's just say that she and the Master have a long history. He's probably her enemy #1, and has killed her a couple of times. She is trying very very hard not to show how relieved she is.
Clara was quickly dismissed—she might be "lovely", but self-sacrifice and dying were messy and not to be involved in the Seeker's plan. His exchange with River was neatly to the point, right attitude indeed.
He likes Clara, so wants to keep her safe. And with River it's partly reciprocation of her trust earlier on. (If something went wrong with her plan, she wanted him to take her research back to her university. They understand each other.)
Then more Roda—the description of her was wonderful and really highlighted the intensity beneath the restraint, and their careful, assessing dialogue was really interesting. So they also got back-to-front at times, and the hints about their relationship were really interesting, the fact that this moment would probably lead Roda to put an end to their relationship, which had already happened for the Seeker. I love the fact that he gave her a chance to get out if she promised she wouldn't step in—and that she wouldn't lie to him. Just that is telling of how deep their connection runs.
Roda/Seeker are very interesting because they're such complete opposites. Yet they respect each other an awful lot, and their trust runs very deep at this point. Yet the Seeker knows that her assessment of the situation will be very different to his, and - although he won't change his pans for her any more than he will for the Doctor - he wants her to understand that he appreciates that she will not approve.
I love how River cut in sharply when Jack and the Doctor were choking at Roda's reaction—she would understand, and she also was less emotional in her assessment, more sharply matter-of-fact, acknowledging the Seeker's power high but also valuing his intellect and knowing they might be better off seeing what his plan was, although she remained careful. But I'm not sure the Seeker appreciated her "power trip" comment much more than he did the others' horror—getting a bit carried away by emotion for the first time.
There is an interesting dynamic here - River is curious (and of course doesn't have a direct memory of the Toclafane the way the others do), and Roda (although not approving) will not betray the Seeker (even though she suffered the most during The Year That Never Was). Whereas the Doctor and Jack are far more outraged and feel they have to DO something.
I love the fact that he has had the Toclafane handy for so very long, and never once freed them, but he had to draw back to himself and his hermit planet to avoid subjecting himself to temptation. He knew the danger of what he held, knew he could lose control, and he wouldn't use this weapon unless absolutely dire circumstances required it—saving the universe. But the day had come.
I will go into more detail as to how and when he 'recruited' the Toclafane, so will skip this for now. There is more of a story.
I love it as I loved Davros trying to push in on what he perceived as a weakness on the Seeker's side, and the latter coolly clarifying that they were not allies, but spectators.
The Toclafane are all the allies he needs right now...
The command that blocked sound from coming out—indeed his foes knew the Doctor well
His power is his ability to TALK! ;)
and I like how distraught and lost Clara felt at that point, her confusion about the Seeker's behaviour as opposed to what she'd seen of him before.
Poor Clara. And no one is explaining anything.
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Yes, that's the vibe I was getting from the hints you'd scattered. It's a complex web of relationships. ^_^
And with River it's partly reciprocation of her trust earlier on. (If something went wrong with her plan, she wanted him to take her research back to her university. They understand each other.)
Ah, yes, I hadn't made the connection with that :D I like it.
Roda/Seeker are very interesting because they're such complete opposites. Yet they respect each other an awful lot, and their trust runs very deep at this point. Yet the Seeker knows that her assessment of the situation will be very different to his, and - although he won't change his pans for her any more than he will for the Doctor - he wants her to understand that he appreciates that she will not approve.
Their dynamic sounds fascinating :D So much respect and trust, indeed, despite their differences.
There is an interesting dynamic here - River is curious (and of course doesn't have a direct memory of the Toclafane the way the others do), and Roda (although not approving) will not betray the Seeker (even though she suffered the most during The Year That Never Was). Whereas the Doctor and Jack are far more outraged and feel they have to DO something.
*nods* Yes, it's fascinating to see everyone's nuanced reactions…
I will go into more detail as to how and when he 'recruited' the Toclafane, so will skip this for now. There is more of a story.
Can't wait to see! ^_^
The Toclafane are all the allies he needs right now...
That's for sure! ;)
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If you ever get the time, you should read Master Plan. (The story of how Roda met the Master. Summary: Every good rivalry starts somewhere. This one started with a revolution.)
Ah, yes, I hadn't made the connection with that :D I like it.
They always got along. :)
Their dynamic sounds fascinating :D So much respect and trust, indeed, despite their differences.
They can agree to disagree. Which I think is the mark of true friendship.
*nods* Yes, it's fascinating to see everyone's nuanced reactions…
I really should get on with writing the next part...
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This.
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I mentioned how much fun I had, right? He is totally channeling his father here (something he doesn't usually allow himself), but it's far too much fun to resist. Plus it's a dream come true... And just this once he can have all the power and all the control and tell people to shut up. It's fabulous.
I love the fact that he understood Davros' obsession with purity, his whole ideology in the creation of the Daleks, yet he was also so lucid about the limits. Purity doesn't evolve and even the Daleks could only live on when they "soiled" themselves with what they considered to be impure.
They're clever, and he wants to *understand*...
I love the description of him at that point, striking and ominous, the switch between personas and how unsettled and frightened Clara felt. His talk about himself—in comes the megalomania, now. ;) The parts about the Master, the universe being his. It's brilliant. His grin was all Harold Saxon. The Voodoo Child, the Doctor's desperation. His begging was all wrong, because oh, the Seeker knew exactly what he was doing. And he'd chosen to do it. No begging would convince him.
It is almost like he is playing a role. Or letting a certain side out to play that he doesn't normally allow out. (Ooooh if you ever read 'Dating' you'll see that this is a trait that's always been there. And it's always been unsettling.) He is his father's son, and he truly claims that title for himself here.
The Seeker's lines are perfect. It being for his father, apologizing for the nightmares.
If you remember back in chapter 2, the Seeker helped them to find where they were going (when the Doctor asked him if he knew anything): "The only thing that fits is... one day at Torchwood. We were talking about nightmares, and the atmosphere got... weird. Uncomfortable. The twins said - and I quote - ‘On the day the nightmares return, remember this: ‘So long and thanks for all the nectar’." The 'nightmares' were not the Daleks, but the Toclafane. Which is of course why everyone was uncomfortable.
I just xskkzgzm.
♥ ♥ ♥ (That's EXACTLY the reaction I was going for, but you never know if it'll work for others too...)
Love the description of the countless Toclafane, and the Seeker's last line—now you're not only rewriting the s4 finale, it's s3 reborn too and it's glorious! Never been more spot-on :D
I tried to work in as many lines as I could from Sound of Drums. Like the Seeker apologising to Davros about needing to attend to some personal business - that's almost word-for-word the Master. ♥
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Yes, and it's easy to figure :D
And just this once he can have all the power and all the control and tell people to shut up. It's fabulous.
Hahaha, love it :D
It is almost like he is playing a role. Or letting a certain side out to play that he doesn't normally allow out.
I love the idea :D
If you remember back in chapter 2, the Seeker helped them to find where they were going (when the Doctor asked him if he knew anything): "The only thing that fits is... one day at Torchwood. We were talking about nightmares, and the atmosphere got... weird. Uncomfortable. The twins said - and I quote - ‘On the day the nightmares return, remember this: ‘So long and thanks for all the nectar’." The 'nightmares' were not the Daleks, but the Toclafane. Which is of course why everyone was uncomfortable.
Oh god, yes! I'd forgotten about that :D
♥♥♥ (That's EXACTLY the reaction I was going for, but you never know if it'll work for others too...)
xskkzgzm was? :D It did work, yeah.
I tried to work in as many lines as I could from Sound of Drums. Like the Seeker apologising to Davros about needing to attend to some personal business - that's almost word-for-word the Master. ♥
*cheers* :D
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I HAZ PLOT! And foreshadowing and stuff. Go me!
xskkzgzm was? :D It did work, yeah.
:D :D :D
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Yes, this :D ♥
:D :D :D
♥♥♥