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Mar. 26th, 2005 10:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolAs I was bewailing to Iona the fact that I don't write fic anymore, I decided that for the sheer hell of it, I would. I like being fandom firsts.
I present Christopher Eccleston!Doctor fic. Written in the grand space of 30 minutes, so you can imagine the high quality of it. It's like the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
contrelamontre challenge until I realised that I couldn't fit it to Doctor Who, so I just rambled. BUT YAY ME. Fanfiction, less than 3 hours after a show has aired for the first time EVER. Unbeta-ed. Obviously. And spoilers for 'Rose', duh.
Rose is increasingly convinced that she has gone mad. Was it not for the fact that she likes to think that if she went mad she would do so a little more, well, sanely – perhaps not involving blue police boxes from the 50s – then she probably would have already fallen into the same black hole of panic that Mickey has. For some strange reason, she’s actually rather thriving on the increasing chaos around her.
It was, she decides, the minute that she heard the Doctor panic and realised that despite the fact he was probably an immortal being from an alien planet, he was quite useless as she was in that kind of situation. Admittedly, Rose knows, she can’t claim to understand what he’s talking about for most of the time. That what happens when you spend three years working in a boring department store and not doing more practical things, like getting a useful boyfriend and moving out of her mother’s flat. What she does know is that she isn’t the type of person to panic in a completely mad situation.
Okay, that isn’t entirely true, but Rose pretends that it is the truth. Just for the moment.
“D’you want to come with me?”
Instead, she’d quite like to stay in her little bubble, where things are sane, and she can be looked after by Mum and Mickey. Or maybe look after them, and keep the upper hand. She’s not sure. So the blue box – the TARDIS? Was that it? – leaves and she stays. In the middle of London, with a boyfriend wrapped around her waist, and not in the good way. In the middle of London, where she can keep the upper hand and at the same time work in the local hospital and serve chips.
When the TARDIS returns, she’s already made up her mind.
I fully appreciate it is bad, that is what happens when I put fingers on the keyboard and hope for the best.
~Hathy_Col~
I present Christopher Eccleston!Doctor fic. Written in the grand space of 30 minutes, so you can imagine the high quality of it. It's like the
contrelamontre challenge until I realised that I couldn't fit it to Doctor Who, so I just rambled. BUT YAY ME. Fanfiction, less than 3 hours after a show has aired for the first time EVER. Unbeta-ed. Obviously. And spoilers for 'Rose', duh.Rose is increasingly convinced that she has gone mad. Was it not for the fact that she likes to think that if she went mad she would do so a little more, well, sanely – perhaps not involving blue police boxes from the 50s – then she probably would have already fallen into the same black hole of panic that Mickey has. For some strange reason, she’s actually rather thriving on the increasing chaos around her.
It was, she decides, the minute that she heard the Doctor panic and realised that despite the fact he was probably an immortal being from an alien planet, he was quite useless as she was in that kind of situation. Admittedly, Rose knows, she can’t claim to understand what he’s talking about for most of the time. That what happens when you spend three years working in a boring department store and not doing more practical things, like getting a useful boyfriend and moving out of her mother’s flat. What she does know is that she isn’t the type of person to panic in a completely mad situation.
Okay, that isn’t entirely true, but Rose pretends that it is the truth. Just for the moment.
“D’you want to come with me?”
Instead, she’d quite like to stay in her little bubble, where things are sane, and she can be looked after by Mum and Mickey. Or maybe look after them, and keep the upper hand. She’s not sure. So the blue box – the TARDIS? Was that it? – leaves and she stays. In the middle of London, with a boyfriend wrapped around her waist, and not in the good way. In the middle of London, where she can keep the upper hand and at the same time work in the local hospital and serve chips.
When the TARDIS returns, she’s already made up her mind.
I fully appreciate it is bad, that is what happens when I put fingers on the keyboard and hope for the best.
~Hathy_Col~
