Ad Infinitum
By L'Artiste and The Manager
Beta: --
Series: Doctor Who
Spoilers: If anything, the older seasons.
Rating: T
Paring: none
Warning: Original Fiction Crossover. ((Original Character))
Disclaimer: I truly wish I owned Doctor Who, but I don't, I do however own the persona of Pamela, My incarnation of the Doctor, and of course, Ne Raison. (If anyone wants to use these characters/places feel free to contact me).
Prologue
It was nearing the second twilight on Ne Raison, the sheer sliver of the third moon was just beginning its decent to the north. The lights of the silver city, Alpha-Criona, shone with a faint blue colour, the colour of the underlying midnight. The crystal forests were silent, and ever darkening with the coming of the second night. No creature would dare to be exposed, lest they too become part of the crystal forest.
On the outskirts of Alpha-Criona, a slightly rundown and out of place— blue police box materialized. The burst of wind generated by the space displacement whistled through the barely movable prongs of the crystalline pillars of the forest. However, inside the police box there was a boy who seemed to be either in his early twenties or late teenage years. He was working hard in his ship, his head under the central console. Moments later he removed himself from his awkward position, and after careful consideration, he threw down his wrench, stood up, turned the contraption off, and disappeared through one of the side doors of the enormous control room.
The sun rose the next day with deafening slowness, as if it was rising a great golden head of hair that was weighing down it's already slow movements. Dawn finally touched the silver city, and the silver spire at it's heart underwent its daily transformation from a deep midnight-blue to the shining, morning-gold. The captain of the mysterious police box had already been avidly working on his strange vessel when the star illuminated the outside world. He ran an oil-covered hand through his short near-ebony hair, he had done this enough times that anyone who knew him previously might swear that his hair colour came from the oil alone. The boy threw his wrench to the floor again, and it slid towards the door. He stared at the wrench as it slowed to a stop, and then an idea came to him. there had to be some sort of bazaar on the planet that might be of some use to the repair of his ship. His mind made up, he pocketed a silver, pen-shaped tool on the way out of the door.
He walked into the morning son and locked the door of his ship. The city was shining in the distance, rising up out of the crystal forest and only a few minutes walk from his crashed ship. He began walking, not noticing the lack of carbon-based life forms. It took him almost half an hour before he began to start whistling, and by then he realized that the gates of the city were on it's other side; and he wouldn't reach them until noon.