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yuletart2008-01-26 10:02 pm
yuletart-mods.livejournal.com) wrote in yuletart2008-01-26 10:02 pm
Entry tags:
HAPPY YULETART, Mawaridi!
Title: The Three Doctors
Gift for:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mawaridi
Artist:fantastic_light
Rating:: PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who, House, Firefly, Heroes
Characters: The Doctor, House, Simon Tam, (implied Isaac Mendez, possible off-screan Elle)
Artist notes: I tried to imitate Tim Sale's style (he's the one who does the paintings for the show), hence the inclusion of Isaac in the character list.
Summary:
The Three Doctors
The first time he had seen the painting, the artist had still been alive and he himself had worn quite a different face. At the time, the Doctor had been much more interested in some of Mister Mendez’s other works, the subject of a number of them quite impossible as the human race measured impossibility. He knew that the painter had thought him mad, with his long scarf and his too intense gaze, but Isaac had just begun to think himself mad as well, when he had seen his painting perfectly reproduced in every line on the morning paper, so the Time Lord met with no real resistance. It also helped that he had offered to purchase a work if he found one suitably interesting. He hadn’t, but that wasn’t the point. The important part was that he hadn’t recognized himself. It wouldn’t do to know the future, after all. Well, too much of it, at any rate. Or the past, either, he supposed.
The second time the Doctor saw the painting was in the company of many others, once again shunted off to a side while more interesting works took center stage. In point of fact, it was a series of different perspectives on Isaac’s own death, accompanied by an artfully murdered corpse in the middle of the floor, that drew most people’s attention, including his own, initially. He had bustled in as Detective John Smith, on assignment from Bristol, determined to find out exactly what had been going on in New York City. The place was only second to London, and maybe Cardiff, for attracting unwanted alien attention, after all. His sniffing about had led him back to Mendez’ loft, awash in police activity and bloodshed. However, while the humans were entirely focused on center stage, the Doctor knew that the wings was where most of the important bits took place, so he turned is oh so very discerning eye to the little details, things that might be missed, and began sorting through them. The painting caught his eye like an old friend. It remained largely unchanged since he had last seen it-for him, so long ago, but for the dead painter it would have been only a matter of months, not even a full year-except for a few errant splatters. It was dwarfed by the larger pieces around it, and the nostalgia of it made him almost chuckle to himself.
Not long after he had dropped Donna off back home he had found himself rather stranded in an out of the way section of the universe populated exclusively by humans with no notion that life alien to their little blue planet existed. The Doctor suspected that the TARDIS was upset with him for not accepting Donna’s invitation to Christmas dinner, but he decided to let her pout. She had landed them in a rickety Firefly class ship, named Serenity, and its crew was as interesting as anything he was likely to find any place else, and as long as they were still moving, he was happy. It was a trait he had in common with the ship’s captain, though he quickly found that they shared little else between them. The Time Lord was suspicious, in all honesty, that Captain Malcolm Reynolds didn’t much want him around, but as the Doctor presented himself as a paying customer (and pay he did, and handsomely, too) Mal hadn’t had much room to complain. At least, he hadn’t until the Doctor had kidnapped his medic and said medic’s sister.
River had been enamored with the Doctor ever since he had come aboard, and with the TARDIS even more so. It became her habit to sneak aboard in quiet moments and wander her labyrinthine corridors despite the protestations of everyone around her, her brother and the Doctor included. It had been a relatively quiet day, and the Doctor decided that it was time that he was off, and as he was making his goodbyes, he found out later, that Simon had noticed his sister was missing and, suspecting that she had snuck aboard the TARDIS again, went to look for her. He found River just in time to take her firmly by the arm and be thrown to the ground as the floor jumped and jostled beneath his feet. The young man would have been comforted by his sister’s delighted giggling except that it reminded him too much of the time they had been forced to hide outside Serenity, entirely at the mercy of the Black. She had found wonder in their dire situation then, too. When they had found their way back to the TARDIS’ control room, the Doctor had clapped him firmly on the back and assured him that he was being overly dramatic.
Of course, that was before the Doctor stuck his nose out the door ‘just to see where they had landed,’ and gotten swept up in what some of the locals had termed ‘the medical mystery of the century.’ The Doctor thought that this was rather silly of them, as the century had only just begun (he got a look at someone’s Palm Pilot over his shoulder) but was intrigued nonetheless. After squaring his sister away in the Zero Room, which she found comforting, Simon had tagged along. He said that he thought he could be of some use, being from the future and all, but the Doctor was pretty sure that he just had a case of overenthusiastic human curiosity, a trait he generally encouraged and certainly would not cease to do in Doctor Tam’s case. The boy hardly got out enough as it was.
The hustle and bustle of the hospital (which he was informed was called Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital by an agitated orderly) would have been enough to give the two Doctors some idea of things having gone wrong. The flickering overhead lights cemented it. In much the same way that he had done with Simon’s captain, the Doctor quickly went to work in endearing himself to the first suitable nearby human. Mostly, this meant following someone around with bright grins and clever quips until said individual accepted him as business as usual. As the Doctor had a hanger on himself, he decided to follow around someone who drew a crowd naturally in any case.
Doctor Gregory House noticed the additions to his group immediately, the Doctor was sure, and was amazed that he didn’t say anything. Still, he figured, not everyone is as naturally curious as he, so he let it slide.
For one reason or another, the Doctor had ended up spending plenty of time in hospitals over the years, so he was easily able to distinguish between average everyday chaos and paranormal chaos. What made things so confusing for the doctors surrounding him, he learned as Doctor House split his group of residents in two, was that besides the potentially alien threat that the Time Lord was interested in, it so happened that the hospital was under threat of quarantine because of a random and rather unfortunate outbreak of what appeared to be typhoid.
By the time they reached their destination, Simon had engaged himself in a differential battle with a blonde woman House called Cutthroat Bitch and somehow managed to remind the Doctor of Donna Noble. The debate came to an end, however, with the first strike of lightning. As they had gone down the hallway, the flashing of the lights had become increasingly erratic, some of the bulbs, florescent though they were, to burst in a spectacular show of sparks. The herd of doctors had written it off, assumed that the generators were on the fritz, and that it would be fixed. Clearly, until they cured their patient, this wouldn’t be the case.
They spread out along the glass, the drawn shades allowing them a clear view of the girl lying on the bed in the room. She was young, that much was immediately clear, her features drawn, limbs flailing erratically (they had, at some point, been tied down), straight blonde hair flying wildly around her head. The machines connected to various points of her body, meant to monitor her health, were all on the blink. No wonder, really, with electricity flying out her fingertips and lightning dancing under her skin, brightening her features eerily with unearthly light. They stood, all of them, stunned and silent, for but a moment. Then the Doctor, before anyone could stop him, had peeled around the corner and into the room. He had no doubt that unless he was rather more unlucky than usual he would be able to handle the electrostatic discharge better than any of the humans outside, and besides, it was likely that his sonic screwdriver would be the only device in the whole hospital able to get an accurate reading off the girl without being destroyed.
Still outside, Simon and a number of the residents were considering following the Doctor into the room. At least, until he was hit by the first bolt of lightning and crashed temporarily to his knees. Quick as anything, they went back to their differential.
House thought it was Lupus. Simon thought someone had been tampering with the girl’s brain. The residents were generally useless. The Doctor thought they needed to get their act together, because a little girl was shooting lightning out her fingertips and maybe that should be their first concern. The odd thing was, they were all right (except the residents, who were, as previously mentioned, generally useless.)
Gift for:
mawaridiArtist:
fantastic_lightRating:: PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who, House, Firefly, Heroes
Characters: The Doctor, House, Simon Tam, (implied Isaac Mendez, possible off-screan Elle)
Artist notes: I tried to imitate Tim Sale's style (he's the one who does the paintings for the show), hence the inclusion of Isaac in the character list.
Summary:
The Three Doctors
The first time he had seen the painting, the artist had still been alive and he himself had worn quite a different face. At the time, the Doctor had been much more interested in some of Mister Mendez’s other works, the subject of a number of them quite impossible as the human race measured impossibility. He knew that the painter had thought him mad, with his long scarf and his too intense gaze, but Isaac had just begun to think himself mad as well, when he had seen his painting perfectly reproduced in every line on the morning paper, so the Time Lord met with no real resistance. It also helped that he had offered to purchase a work if he found one suitably interesting. He hadn’t, but that wasn’t the point. The important part was that he hadn’t recognized himself. It wouldn’t do to know the future, after all. Well, too much of it, at any rate. Or the past, either, he supposed.
The second time the Doctor saw the painting was in the company of many others, once again shunted off to a side while more interesting works took center stage. In point of fact, it was a series of different perspectives on Isaac’s own death, accompanied by an artfully murdered corpse in the middle of the floor, that drew most people’s attention, including his own, initially. He had bustled in as Detective John Smith, on assignment from Bristol, determined to find out exactly what had been going on in New York City. The place was only second to London, and maybe Cardiff, for attracting unwanted alien attention, after all. His sniffing about had led him back to Mendez’ loft, awash in police activity and bloodshed. However, while the humans were entirely focused on center stage, the Doctor knew that the wings was where most of the important bits took place, so he turned is oh so very discerning eye to the little details, things that might be missed, and began sorting through them. The painting caught his eye like an old friend. It remained largely unchanged since he had last seen it-for him, so long ago, but for the dead painter it would have been only a matter of months, not even a full year-except for a few errant splatters. It was dwarfed by the larger pieces around it, and the nostalgia of it made him almost chuckle to himself.
Not long after he had dropped Donna off back home he had found himself rather stranded in an out of the way section of the universe populated exclusively by humans with no notion that life alien to their little blue planet existed. The Doctor suspected that the TARDIS was upset with him for not accepting Donna’s invitation to Christmas dinner, but he decided to let her pout. She had landed them in a rickety Firefly class ship, named Serenity, and its crew was as interesting as anything he was likely to find any place else, and as long as they were still moving, he was happy. It was a trait he had in common with the ship’s captain, though he quickly found that they shared little else between them. The Time Lord was suspicious, in all honesty, that Captain Malcolm Reynolds didn’t much want him around, but as the Doctor presented himself as a paying customer (and pay he did, and handsomely, too) Mal hadn’t had much room to complain. At least, he hadn’t until the Doctor had kidnapped his medic and said medic’s sister.
River had been enamored with the Doctor ever since he had come aboard, and with the TARDIS even more so. It became her habit to sneak aboard in quiet moments and wander her labyrinthine corridors despite the protestations of everyone around her, her brother and the Doctor included. It had been a relatively quiet day, and the Doctor decided that it was time that he was off, and as he was making his goodbyes, he found out later, that Simon had noticed his sister was missing and, suspecting that she had snuck aboard the TARDIS again, went to look for her. He found River just in time to take her firmly by the arm and be thrown to the ground as the floor jumped and jostled beneath his feet. The young man would have been comforted by his sister’s delighted giggling except that it reminded him too much of the time they had been forced to hide outside Serenity, entirely at the mercy of the Black. She had found wonder in their dire situation then, too. When they had found their way back to the TARDIS’ control room, the Doctor had clapped him firmly on the back and assured him that he was being overly dramatic.
Of course, that was before the Doctor stuck his nose out the door ‘just to see where they had landed,’ and gotten swept up in what some of the locals had termed ‘the medical mystery of the century.’ The Doctor thought that this was rather silly of them, as the century had only just begun (he got a look at someone’s Palm Pilot over his shoulder) but was intrigued nonetheless. After squaring his sister away in the Zero Room, which she found comforting, Simon had tagged along. He said that he thought he could be of some use, being from the future and all, but the Doctor was pretty sure that he just had a case of overenthusiastic human curiosity, a trait he generally encouraged and certainly would not cease to do in Doctor Tam’s case. The boy hardly got out enough as it was.
The hustle and bustle of the hospital (which he was informed was called Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital by an agitated orderly) would have been enough to give the two Doctors some idea of things having gone wrong. The flickering overhead lights cemented it. In much the same way that he had done with Simon’s captain, the Doctor quickly went to work in endearing himself to the first suitable nearby human. Mostly, this meant following someone around with bright grins and clever quips until said individual accepted him as business as usual. As the Doctor had a hanger on himself, he decided to follow around someone who drew a crowd naturally in any case.
Doctor Gregory House noticed the additions to his group immediately, the Doctor was sure, and was amazed that he didn’t say anything. Still, he figured, not everyone is as naturally curious as he, so he let it slide.
For one reason or another, the Doctor had ended up spending plenty of time in hospitals over the years, so he was easily able to distinguish between average everyday chaos and paranormal chaos. What made things so confusing for the doctors surrounding him, he learned as Doctor House split his group of residents in two, was that besides the potentially alien threat that the Time Lord was interested in, it so happened that the hospital was under threat of quarantine because of a random and rather unfortunate outbreak of what appeared to be typhoid.
By the time they reached their destination, Simon had engaged himself in a differential battle with a blonde woman House called Cutthroat Bitch and somehow managed to remind the Doctor of Donna Noble. The debate came to an end, however, with the first strike of lightning. As they had gone down the hallway, the flashing of the lights had become increasingly erratic, some of the bulbs, florescent though they were, to burst in a spectacular show of sparks. The herd of doctors had written it off, assumed that the generators were on the fritz, and that it would be fixed. Clearly, until they cured their patient, this wouldn’t be the case.
They spread out along the glass, the drawn shades allowing them a clear view of the girl lying on the bed in the room. She was young, that much was immediately clear, her features drawn, limbs flailing erratically (they had, at some point, been tied down), straight blonde hair flying wildly around her head. The machines connected to various points of her body, meant to monitor her health, were all on the blink. No wonder, really, with electricity flying out her fingertips and lightning dancing under her skin, brightening her features eerily with unearthly light. They stood, all of them, stunned and silent, for but a moment. Then the Doctor, before anyone could stop him, had peeled around the corner and into the room. He had no doubt that unless he was rather more unlucky than usual he would be able to handle the electrostatic discharge better than any of the humans outside, and besides, it was likely that his sonic screwdriver would be the only device in the whole hospital able to get an accurate reading off the girl without being destroyed.
Still outside, Simon and a number of the residents were considering following the Doctor into the room. At least, until he was hit by the first bolt of lightning and crashed temporarily to his knees. Quick as anything, they went back to their differential.
House thought it was Lupus. Simon thought someone had been tampering with the girl’s brain. The residents were generally useless. The Doctor thought they needed to get their act together, because a little girl was shooting lightning out her fingertips and maybe that should be their first concern. The odd thing was, they were all right (except the residents, who were, as previously mentioned, generally useless.)
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Thank you muchly for the double treat of fic and art, and yays for the extra in-joke nod to Dr. Who's delightful habit of running multiple-doctor reunions. Teh awesome.
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Thank you!!
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