All right. I know that this episode won't be good, I know that Jane's personality will probably be nothing like her, I know that I will accidentally write at least three historical discrepancies. However, I also know that you will hunt me down and kill me if I don't update, and that our dearly beloved Jane won't go away if I just ignore her, so I have slipped into a distinct just-write-the-bloody-thing-and-get-it-over-with phase. I apologise for all the crappiness that will surely be ensconced in the following five chapters, but history has never been my strong point.
Disclaimer: Mum and I painted David Tennant on my bedroom wall (I've posted pictures on dA, if anyone's interested) and there is Doctor Who paraphernalia scattered throughout the house, but I don't own Doctor Who. Or David Tennant. (Pity.) And the closest I can currently get to saying that I own Jane Austen is saying that I own a copy of Pride and Prejudice, which I do, but even so, I don't own her or anything vaguely related to her. In short, I'm playing with stuff that isn't mine. Yay!
SIAPNIAN: I have taken to putting a preview of the next chapter on the end of each update. Woo!
Apology: The title of this episode is bad and stupid and I'm sorry, but my brain feels fuzzy right now. If anyone can think of a better one, please tell me.
WARNING: Un-beta'd.
This is part of the Celebratory Update Spam.
-BAD WOLF-
It was nighttime. Specifically, it was that particular shade of nighttime when everything is dark and still and somewhat magical (or creepy, depending on who you ask), when the stars glitter coldly as pinpricks in a heavy black blanket of sky, when everyone is either asleep or has fallen into a sort of restless half-awake state of dreams, and when the silence is so deeply sacred that the only things that dare to violate it are the eternally self-important breeze and the single spaceship descending from the high reaches of the atmosphere.
It was quite a lovely spaceship, especially if you knew anything about spaceships. Streamlined and of a shape rather like an oval with points at each end, it descended gracefully through the oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere as if silly things like gravity and the wind (irritated now that there was something much, much more interesting than itself hanging around) did not exist. The fascinatingly shiny hull glowed bright silver in the moonlight, mimicking the radiance and beauty of that distant satellite so perfectly that it almost seemed that the orb had descended to Earth. Except, of course, that it hadn't.
It wasn't a particularly large ship, the cockpit being of a size to admit perhaps a million or so mosquitoes, if they were prepared to be suffocatingly friendly; however, in more generally accepted terms, it would comfortably house two very slender four-foot-tall humanoids. Before the smooth, nicely cushioned chairs there glittered an array of controls and displays of the sort of precise complexity that would make Rodney McKay weep with delight. Behind the smooth, nicely cushioned chairs there was a wall that artfully concealed the second compartment of the ship. On the smooth, nicely cushioned chairs there were two creatures, conveniently very slender and about four feet tall.
"Are you sure this is the one?" asked one of the other. Actually, to be absolutely precise, it said, "Fe, dell tey ep de ekka ep?" However, as very few people outside the Tel themselves understand their language, their speech shall be translated. This Tel's voice was like its ship: smooth and shining and achingly beautiful.
"Yes," replied the other. Its tone was much the same, if slightly more melodic, and it seemed the more feminine of the two by most standards; however, as any seasoned interplanetary traveller will tell you, this was by no means an infallible manner of gender assumption. "All the others of this sort fade away or fluctuate in their fame, but Zgheynn—" her unmistakable accent would not allow her to pronounce a soft J— "is revered throughout time."
The first speaker hummed. "It is a long way to go nonetheless. Especially for a mere hatchling."
"The Tai'ek wished it so. Who are we to defy her?"
Another hum, this one with a hint of reluctant agreement, and the creature slid its smooth fingers over the controls.
The spaceship's soft thrumming barely changed as it glided forwards. The more feminine creature leaned forward to examine a dial. It made an odd noise of satisfaction in the back of its throat.
"An artist and a writer," it noted. The tense it used is not easily translated in speech, but it was used to indicate possibilities.
"Ignore the artist," said its companion. "We have already collected enough of those, and I do not wish to remain on this world."
"It does get tedious after the fourth time," agreed the other, and pressed a complex code into one of the screens. There was a faint shzhoom sound from the engines and just like that, the second compartment of the ship was filled.
As the shining object vanished, leaving the air to close around it with a surprised noise, the possibly-future-artist frowned a little and rolled over in her sleep.
The writer was gone.
-BAD WOLF-
And there you have it. Feel free to hum whatever version of the theme song you like.
Note: I have slipped out of the habit of begging for reviews (Threatening, yes. Begging, no.), sort of, but I am going to ask you now, as my birthday was yesterday, I have a really wicked cold going on which should have started slacking off two days ago and instead has been getting worse, and I'd REALLY love some reviews from someone other than random-tuesday to cheer me up. No offence to random-tuesday, of course. Without you, I'd be a lot more depressed than I am right now.
Next time:
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Wouldn't have put you down as an Austen fan," he said. He considered the previous statement. "No offence."
Rose shrugged, drumming her fingertips on the battered leather beneath her. "There's a lot you don't know about me," she replied.
The Time Lord's eyes flickered over his companion. Yes, he didn't say. Far too much.
