Tyloric
Illogical Process of Elimination
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2008
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I haven't posted anything in a while, so I figured I would post a bit of a preview to my upcoming story.
This particular story will be, of course, fan fiction as well as a crossover. The first fandom is Doctor Who... can you guess the second? (people who have access to my Facebook need to STFU D:<)
This particular story will be, of course, fan fiction as well as a crossover. The first fandom is Doctor Who... can you guess the second? (people who have access to my Facebook need to STFU D:<)
"The Mad Physician" (WIP)
By Tyloric
By Tyloric
It had been a while since he had felt this particular emotion, perhaps centuries. He’d hardly recognized it at first as it had crept up on him slowly, only pouncing when he was at his most venerable. It had taken quite a bit of his considerable intellect to properly identify it and when he had he had been less than pleased.
Yes, the Doctor had in fact been bored. It was an outrageous idea, really. He always had something he could be doing, always had some place he could be, someone he could save. But for now, in this particular moment, he didn’t. Well, technically he did but rather, couldn’t. The sensation didn’t last long, nearly five seconds, but it was enough of a stretch to catapult him in to action.
He was stuck in the TARDIS and couldn’t vacate it without being erased from reality itself. Not only that, but because the TARDIS itself was all that was keeping him grounded in reality it was, for the most part, immobile. It turns out sustaining an anomaly in an ever changing time stream isn’t a particularly easy task.
He quickly weighed his options and set upon the task of scanning the outside world. Where was he? When was he? You know; the basics. He twisted knobs, pulled levers, typed commands, going about each task in a much slower pace than he would normally have allowed himself. He just wasn’t sure what the TARDIS’ limits were. So he would give her a task, a simple one at first, like what the climate was, and if she was able to answer him without much effort on her part he would slowly climb up the ladder to more complex tasks, like what the year was.
He was, after a good ten minutes of tinkering, able to get all the data he usually found critical. He was, as he had expected, on Earth - In the southern United States, no less. That was good; he really didn’t travel to the west of the planet enough. All the other scans remained unremarkable. At least until he got down to the bottom of the screen. Local Human Population: 3.
The Doctor blinked then frowned and ran that particular scan again. But the result remained the same. Naturally he came to the conclusion that he was just in some remote area of the country and that the only people nearby was one small family. Still, he ran a global analysis for good measure and almost wished he hadn’t. Global Human Population: <100,000,000.
There was still one more critical scan to run. Still wary of what the TARDIS could accomplish in its present state, he asked only one more critical piece of information: the date. The day and month were inconclusive, but neither were nearly as important as the year, which the TARDIS was indeed able to provide. The Doctor’s spirits sank when the year was displayed on the console: 2008.
Yes, the Doctor had in fact been bored. It was an outrageous idea, really. He always had something he could be doing, always had some place he could be, someone he could save. But for now, in this particular moment, he didn’t. Well, technically he did but rather, couldn’t. The sensation didn’t last long, nearly five seconds, but it was enough of a stretch to catapult him in to action.
He was stuck in the TARDIS and couldn’t vacate it without being erased from reality itself. Not only that, but because the TARDIS itself was all that was keeping him grounded in reality it was, for the most part, immobile. It turns out sustaining an anomaly in an ever changing time stream isn’t a particularly easy task.
He quickly weighed his options and set upon the task of scanning the outside world. Where was he? When was he? You know; the basics. He twisted knobs, pulled levers, typed commands, going about each task in a much slower pace than he would normally have allowed himself. He just wasn’t sure what the TARDIS’ limits were. So he would give her a task, a simple one at first, like what the climate was, and if she was able to answer him without much effort on her part he would slowly climb up the ladder to more complex tasks, like what the year was.
He was, after a good ten minutes of tinkering, able to get all the data he usually found critical. He was, as he had expected, on Earth - In the southern United States, no less. That was good; he really didn’t travel to the west of the planet enough. All the other scans remained unremarkable. At least until he got down to the bottom of the screen. Local Human Population: 3.
The Doctor blinked then frowned and ran that particular scan again. But the result remained the same. Naturally he came to the conclusion that he was just in some remote area of the country and that the only people nearby was one small family. Still, he ran a global analysis for good measure and almost wished he hadn’t. Global Human Population: <100,000,000.
There was still one more critical scan to run. Still wary of what the TARDIS could accomplish in its present state, he asked only one more critical piece of information: the date. The day and month were inconclusive, but neither were nearly as important as the year, which the TARDIS was indeed able to provide. The Doctor’s spirits sank when the year was displayed on the console: 2008.
Coming January 2011