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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Why Chronicles of Narnia’s Santa Claus Celebrates Christmas with Weapons of War

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Anyone who adapts the works of C.S. Lewis for the screen will find they have a few odd things to contend with. We have never seen a screen version of Prince Caspian, for example, in which young children Susan and Lucy go around cavorting with Bacchus, the god of wine, and his wild Bacchants, for the very good reason that it comes across as seriously strange and more than a little disturbing.

But the oddest moment in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Lewis’ first written The Chronicles of Narnia novel and the most often adapted, cannot be so easily lifted out. In that fantasy epic, the first major sign that the White Witch’s eternal winter is fading is the appearance of Father Christmas (aka Santa Claus), who has been kept out of Narnia ever since the Witch arrived.

Father Christmas gives three of the four child protagonists magical gifts that are both far more impressive and far more dangerous than most children expect to find waiting for them on Christmas morning, and these gifts play important roles in the story, not only in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but in its sequel Prince Caspian as well.

How Father Christmas Signals Springtime

Lewis’ friend J.R.R. Tolkien famously disliked the Narnia Chronicles, as he told David Kolb in a letter. Lewis’ biographer George Sayer and Tolkien’s biographer Humphrey Carpenter both suggest that one of the reasons for this was the mixing of mythologies in the Chronicles. Carpenter particularly singles out the combination of Father Christmas—a mythologized Christian saint—with Greco-Roman fauns and nymphs, and talking animals, as one of Tolkien’s main issues with the stories. Too many different things all jumbled up together.

Other scholars have doubted whether this in particular was the cause of Tolkien’s dislike, but it’s easy to see why it seems a likely factor. Tolkien was a firm believer in the importance of believable, consistent secondary world creation, and the appearance of a Christian saint in a world dominated by characters from Greco-Roman and Norse pagan mythologies seems rather strange. Tolkien is far from the only reader to find the big bearded man’s sudden appearance odd—and his disappearance, never to be heard from again, for poor Edmund never even gets a single present from him despite living in Narnia and reigning as King for 15 years.

Lewis, however, was determined to keep Father Christmas in the story and not everyone finds his presence a problem. When Lucy Pevensie is first told that the White Witch has made it “always winter, but never Christmas,” she responds the same way any child would, crying “how awful!” The primary target audience of the Narnia stories is children, and the story is told in a way that’s meant to appeal to children.

Lewis clearly realized that a child’s response to an eternal winter would quite likely be “goody, it must be Christmas every day!” and that the lack of Christmas needs to be specified to show how awful the Witch’s winter is. Andrew Adamson’s film version from 2005 shows the same understanding. When young Lucy lays eyes on Father Christmas, she yells “Presents!” That’s what Christmas and Santa Claus means to young children, after all.

How have Narnians, living in a world where Jesus’ role is fulfilled by a talking lion, come to have an understanding of the Christian festival of Christmas? P.H. Brazier points out that, as Lewis later established in The Magician’s Nephew, (British) humans have been living in and ruling Narnia since it was created. So in story, it is not actually that strange that Narnia’s British-descended kings and queens introduced Christmas and the name of Father Christmas for the red-coated man who brings presents at that time of year into Narnia, even without bringing the story of Jesus along with it.

Additionally, the British name “Father Christmas,” like the French title of “Pere Noël,” (and unlike Americans’ use of “Santa Claus”), avoids any clear connection with the Christian “Saint Nicholas.” It also opens up the possibility of this being a mythological figure connected to the more secular side of Christmas.

Let’s face it, if we’re going to start getting really picky about these things, then what exactly are we going to do with the “holiday” lands in The Nightmare Before Christmas and other fantasy versions of Santa that are far removed from their Christian original story?

And Father Christmas has an important role to play in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. His appearance is the very first sign that the Witch’s hold is weakening and the long winter is ending. Although the British Father Christmas has more or less become the American Santa Claus these days, his origins aren’t just in the story of Saint Nicholas. He is also a character in medieval Mummers’ Plays, which celebrated the annual death of vegetation, crops, and so on in autumn and winter, and their resurrection and re-birth in spring.

Father Christmas was a personification of Christmas, and so represents when the darkest time of year also brings light and joy before the turning of the seasons towards brighter days. The usefulness of this symbolic figure for the story of Narnia and how its endless winter becomes spring, alongside the death and resurrection of the Christ-figure Aslan, thus becomes inescapable.

Father Christmas/Santa Claus is also, of course, a Christian figure, and Disney and Walden Media’s marketing for their 2005 adaptation leaned heavily on its Christian themes, especially in certain parts of America. The previous year’s The Passion of the Christ had broken box office records and was for some time the biggest earning R-rated movie ever made (until Deadpool de-throned it in 2016). The Christian market was suddenly on movie studios’ radar, and an adaptation of Lewis’ famously Christian-themed books seemed perfect to cash in on this new discovery. It’s no wonder, then that there was no strong desire to edit out this most obviously Christian element of the story.

Why Christmas Means War in Narnia

There’s another important aspect of Father Christmas’ appearance in the story though, and one brought out especially effectively in Adamson’s film. That aspect is the wartime setting of the story, and the surprisingly violent nature of the gifts Father Christmas gives the three children he meets. (The third Pevensie sibling, Edmund, isn’t with the others when they meet him, because he has temporarily defected to join the White Witch—a choice he comes to regret pretty quickly!)

All three children are given weapons along with some advice about how to use them. Oldest sibling Peter is given a sword and shield and told that they are “tools, not toys”—Peter will soon be required to use these weapons in war and to become High King of Narnia afterward. The need for him to grow up almost immediately is clear. Susan is given a magical horn that will summon help, and a bow and arrow, which in Lewis’ original book, she is told to use “only at great need.”

Lucy, the youngest, is given magical healing cordial, and a small dagger, also to be used “to defend yourself at great need.” In the book, both Susan and Lucy are firmly told that they are not to fight “in the battle.” The girls are therefore put into traditional wartime roles for women as helpers and healers, and Peter is left to lead the fighting.

The violence of the story reflects the background violence of its setting. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was written in the late 1940s, a few years after after the end of World War II, and is set during that cataclysmic war. The year isn’t specified, but the children are evacuated from London, which suggests 1940 during the Blitz bombing of London and the Battle of Britain as a likely setting.

This date was later confirmed by Lewis himself when he put together a timeline of Narnian history some time after finishing the whole series. This is one reason why Edmund is so excited at the prospect of eating Turkish Delight—he is living in a country in which sugar is rationed and sweets are a rare treat. Which doesn’t excuse him for betraying his brother and sisters “for sweeties,” as the White Witch puts it in the film, but it does provide some context for how important Turkish Delight seems to be to him!

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By Natalie Zutter

Adamson’s film emphasizes the wartime setting of the story far more than earlier adaptations, opening on an air raid over London and showing the children racing to escape the falling bombs. The children talk about the war and about their father being away fighting in it, and directly compare their Narnian experiences to their earthly ones far more often than in other versions or in the original novel, where their evacuation is largely an excuse to get them staying in Professor Kirk’s house, and is based on Lewis’ own memories of having evacuees stay with him.

A wartime Father Christmas giving weapons of war to wartime children also requires a serious-looking figure, someone who makes the children feel “solemn,” as Lewis describes it in the book. The appearance of Father Christmas/Santa Claus in modern pop culture became fixed when Coca-Cola started using him in their advertising campaigns, dressing him in their company colors of red and white. Before that, he was just as likely to wear brown, or green, like Charles Dickens’ Ghost of Christmas Present (who is very similar to him).

Actor James Cosmo’s Father Christmas (who is not named on screen, to avoid confusing British audiences expecting “Father Christmas” and American audiences expecting “Santa Claus”) is not the Coke-drinking Santa. His robes are red, but they are a dark, maroon-red, fitting in better with the earthy tones of a snow-covered Narnia. Cosmo’s performance is carefully balanced to match. He laughs and is reasonably jolly, but he is also serious, bringing enough gravitas to the role to go with the very serious presents he’s giving.

Father Christmas’ gifts and advice are put to use at the climax of the story when Peter is required to lead an army into war without even Aslan’s presence to help him, Aslan having been inconveniently sacrificed at the altar of the Stone Table the night before. Of course the death of the Hero’s Mentor is a common trope in stories following Joseph Campbell’s template of the Hero’s Journey, allowing the Hero to prove their own worth independently before the end of the story. But expecting an untrained child to lead an army is a fairly extreme example.

Perhaps this was also part of Lewis’ ability to tap into young children’s games and fantasies, since plenty of children have played with toy swords in mock battles, but putting it on screen does have the potential to look rather strange.

In Adamson’s film, this problem is solved by changing the ages of the two older children. Whereas the four children in the BBC’s earlier adaptation all appeared to be very close in age to each other, Adamson’s Pevensies split neatly into two groups—a considerably older Peter and Susan (William Moseley was 18 by the time the film came out) and a much younger Edmund and Lucy. At the very beginning of the film, Peter glances uncomfortably at a solider barely older than himself, and during World War II many young men of Moseley’s age would have been fighting already (or serving in the Home Guard).

So Peter and Susan become characters who might more reasonably be expected to start taking on adult roles. The younger Edmund is initially kept further back from the battle with Mr. Beaver and the archers, while the older Peter actually leads the charge.

The sheer sexism of Father Christmas’ original advice in the book also presented a potential problem for a movie released in 2005, a time when women were still not allowed to fight on the front lines in the U.S. or UK armies (this changed in 2016 in both cases), but were serving in many other roles in armed forces around the world. When Lucy says that she is brave enough to fight in the battle too, she is told that “battles are ugly when women fight.” The implication seems to be that they are not ugly otherwise, which is very strange—and what is it that is so unnatural and ugly about women fighting, anyway?

Adamson’s film cleverly sidesteps this issue with a tweak to the dialogue. As we’ve seen, Peter and Susan are both far older in this version than they are implied to be in the books. Edmund is absent from the Father Christmas scene, so we see the much older teenagers given weapons to use, but he gives the much smaller child just a dagger for self-defence. When Lucy objects and says she thinks she could be brave enough to fight, Father Christmas says nothing about women, but just tells her that “battles are ugly affairs”—implying that it is her young age that he’s thinking of, not her gender.

When the much older Susan asks him “what happened to ‘battles are ugly affairs?’” on receiving her bow and arrow, he just laughs a little—in this version, there is no instruction for Susan to avoid the battle, and a brief moment is added in the eventual climax when she saves Edmund with a well-timed arrow before Lucy fulfils her job as a wartime nurse by healing him.

As Father Christmas drives away in the film, Lucy smugly tells her older sister, “I told you he was real.” It’s very funny and also fits rather nicely into some of the film’s overall themes, as Susan is always the sceptic, the Doubting Thomas; in Prince Caspian, she steadfastly refuses to believe Lucy has seen Aslan to the point it nearly gets them killed.

This is another aspect from the books played up in Adamson’s films, as Susan constantly doubts whether they can achieve anything in Narnia. When Peter first tries to use his new Christmas present, ‘sensible’ Susan screams at him, “just because some man in a red coat gives you a sword it doesn’t make you a hero!” as he tries to hold off a wolf attack on a frozen river, cheerfully ignoring the fact they still have a missing brother to find.

But just as young men and women had to become “heroes” in World War II, all four Pevensies eventually find their inner hero over the course of the story—in three cases, helped by the immensely practical, if violent, Christmas presents they’ve been given.

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ksfd89 · 4 years

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Riding in Style

Oneshot set in S5 where Lorelai impulsively buys a Vespa! A little Literaiti thrown in too! Enjoy!

"What is that?"

Rory stares at her mother's porch in disbelief. There, propped up against the steps, sits a bright turquoise motorcycle and Lorelai crows, "It's a Vespa!"

"I can see that."

"I wanted it in Hello Kitty but they only had this colour. Thoughts?"

"Well, my first my thought is why," Rory says honestly and rolls her eyes as Lorelai explains, "Roman Holiday was on and I thought it looked cool."

"So you bought a motorcycle."

"A Vespa."

"Excuse me, you bought a Vespa because it looked cool?"

"Yes," Lorelai says, protectively putting a hand on it. "And it is cool, isn't it?"

"Where'd you even buy it?"

"Oh, online somewhere," Lorelai says carelessly. "You can get anything there."

"Of course. Can you even ride it?"

"I rode it around the lot I picked it up from."

"And how did that go?"

"Wobbly," Lorelai admits. "But I can drive, and I can ride a bike, and that's kind of the same, right?"

"Um, sure," Rory says but smiles as her mother says pleadingly, "Isn't it pretty?"

"It's very pretty," Rory allows, going over to take a closer look. "I think turquoise is a more classic colour anyway."

"Very possibly," Lorelai beams. "I need to name it - any contenders?"

"Audrey?"

"Meh, too obvious."

Rory nods, going around it and placing a hand on the seat. She's usually used to unusual sights when coming home from Yale (her mother gardening is the first that comes to mind) but Lorelai has outdone herself with this. It does look cool, Rory has to admit.

"What did Luke say when you showed it to him?"

Lorelai coughs, looking away and groans as Rory exclaims, "Mom!"

"I thought I'd show him in person...maybe later today, or tomorrow is good too, if I put it in the garage..."

"Mom, don't you think he'll want a clue if someone tells him his girlfriend got in a Vespa accident?"

"Who says there'll be an accident?"

"Luke will, that's for sure."

"And that's why I haven't told him yet - he's filled with doom and gloom about these things," Lorelai says defensively. Sighing, she looks at her daughter and says, "I guess I'll tell him now - you want to take it into town with me?"

"As long as take doesn't mean ride," Rory says suspiciously, groaning as Lorelai says, "Hey, where's your sense of adventure?"

"It's busy with my sense of keeping all my limbs intact!"

"Fine, fine. Coffee before we get coffee?"

"You read my mind," Rory says, following Lorelai into the house.

They walk into the square with the Vespa between them, causing a lot of excitement and admonishment from Taylor, who shouts out road safety horror stories all the way to Luke's.

"You know Taylor won't let you ride it."

"We're ignoring him," Lorelai says cheerfully. "Check us out - the Gilmore girls and their Vespa!"

Rory has to admit it's kind of fun. Her bookbag is swinging against her leg and Rory has to shake herself from a fantasy of riding it to school and back. It's a fun picture, if completely ridiculous, and it breaks as Luke marches out of the diner and barks, "What the hell is that thing?"

"My new Vespa," Lorelai says sweetly. "I bought it online."

"It could be a total piece of junk!"

"Stop, you'll hurt its feelings!"

"Lorelai, you can't ride a Vespa!"

"I can learn!"

"It might not be safe!"

"I'll get Gypsy to check it out!"

"I'll check it out right now," Gypsy says wistfully, making Lorelai and Rory jump. "I got my stuff ready the minute I saw you two walk it down the street!"

"All yours," Lorelai says, reaching into her bag. "Here's the helmet it came with and there's another under the seat."

"Great. Can I get a spin on it sometime?"

"Sure, as long as it makes Taylor mad. What do you think, Luke? If Gypsy checks it's safe, can we make Taylor mad with it?"

A look of frustration passes Luke's face and Rory suppresses a giggle. Making Taylor angry is one of Luke's greatest joys in life.

"If Gypsy says it's safe and if you get some lessons, then I guess it's not too dangerous."

"You can bring me coffee on it!"

"What?! No way am I getting on that thing!"

"We can ride it together!"

"I have no interest in dying, thank you!"

"It won't be dangerous!"

"I was talking of dying from humiliation!"

As they argue back and forth Rory wanders over to the counter to get a slice of pie. She's just put the lid back on the plate when she almost drops it; Jess comes down from the stairs behind the counter and stops, looking as stunned as Rory feels.

"Hi."

"Okay, hi," Rory says, feeling a severe sense of déjà vu. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for the day...was passing through and thought I'd see Luke."

"Oh."

There's a long, awkward pause, broken by Rory saying, "My mom bought a Vespa."

Jess blinks, almost smiles and says, "Why?"

"I don't know," Rory admits. A small smile creeps across her lips but she can't let herself relax. She's too caught up in remembering their last meeting, where she told Jess to leave. It seems Jess feels the same as he coughs and says, "I'll just get some coffee and head back up...I won't come back down."

"It's okay," Rory says, but Jess is already halfway there and doesn't stop, and Rory doesn't try to make him. She opens her bookbag to study and takes a bite of pie, but fails to absorb a single word.

Luke awkwardly mentions about Jess when he and Lorelai come back in and is mortified when Rory informs him she's already seen him. Rory pretends it doesn't matter, deliberately taking a large bite of pie, and Lorelai loudly starts talking about Vespas to try and diffuse the tension, to no avail. They stay at Luke's until Gypsy gives them the all-clear on the Vespa, but by then Lorelai has to go to work and says she'll leave it at Luke's for the night.

"I was so excited to ride it there too," she says gloomily, pouting when Luke points out it wouldn't have handled the bumpy road too well. She and Rory walk back together, picking out a movie for later, and Lorelai heads out to the Dragonfly. Rory eats some pizza and tries studying some more, but she can't focus. As Rory searches fruitlessly for a textbook she realises she left it at Luke's and, biting her lip, decides to brave getting it. She swore to get some studying done tonight.

Rory knows where the spare key is but in the end it doesn't matter. Jess is sitting at the counter, eating the last of the pie, and turns as Rory hesitantly opens the door.

"Hi. Sorry. I left my book..."

Jess lifts it up and Rory nods. "That's it. Thanks."

She takes it from him, her thumb brushing his, and blushes. They look at each other for a moment, hesitate, and at the same time say, "I'm -"

"Never mind," Rory says, shaking her head, and Jess looks at her, eyes sad. "Rory..."

"It's okay."

"None of it's okay."

Rory gives him a kind of shrug. What happened between them feels too much for a simple apology but she finds herself saying again, "It was a long time ago."

"Not really."

"Well, it feels like it," Rory says honestly. That night Jess asked her to go with him feels almost like another lifetime and yet, in the same moment, seeing him doesn't seem strange. It's as though Jess was always there. Rory doesn't voice the last part.

"It feels a while ago for me too," Jess admits. "I'd do it all differently - Rory, I -"

"We don't have to talk about it," Rory says quietly. Jess nods, and it's her cue to leave, but Rory simply stands there with him, hugging the book to her chest. The silence stretches between them until Jess asks, "Lorelai get you on the Vespa yet?"

"Not yet," Rory laughs, relieved. "She'll be trying tomorrow though, I'm positive."

"It sounds cool."

"Do you want to see it?" The words are out of Rory's mouth before she knew she was saying them. Jess stares at her, smiles and says, "Really?"

"Well, it's just sitting outside. No harm in taking a look."

It's totally normal to show Jess the Vespa, Rory tells herself. It's something friends would do. They can be friends, right? It's all Rory feels good with these days anyway, after the whole disaster with Dean. They open the door and see the Vespa standing outside, looking cheerful next to all the cars.

"Very cool," Jess says approvingly. "You going to ride it?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't bet a lot of money on that."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Jess, I've watched those road accident videos Kirk shows at the movie theater! Plus, it'll be driven by my mother, who gets distracted by anything shiny."

"Lorelai can drive. So can you."

"I am not riding it by myself," Rory says stoutly, her fantasy from taking it to Yale rapidly diminishing.

"But you'll ride it with Lorelai, right? Once she learns how?"

"I think she might be riding it solo."

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

Rory shrugs and teases, "Would you ride it?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Jess - I was just joking. You can't ride a Vespa!"

"I can ride a motorcycle. If you want, you can ride it with me."

Rory stares at him, unsure what to think, and he smiles at her.

"I mean it - I'll take you for a ride on it, if you want. But if you don't want to we can just forget it..."

"Ride it where?"

"Hadn't thought where," Jess says slowly, checking to see if Rory's kidding. "Around the square?"

"Fine, you're on. I'll go get the keys."

Jess watches as Rory goes back into the diner, emerging with them glinting in her hand and laughs.

"You sure you don't want to drive?"

"One hundred percent sure."

"Hand them over, Gilmore."

Rory passes them to Jess who takes them, hesitates and says, "How much will Lorelai kill me if she finds out about this?"

"We'll be fast!"

"That's not exactly an answer."

Jess fastens one helmet under his chin, passing the spare to Rory and climbs on, looking over to where Rory is waiting.

"Ready?"

"Yes," Rory says decisively. This is just to help her nerves, she tells herself, and climbs behind Jess. He looks at her, about to put the key in the ignition and says, "You need to hold onto me."

"What? Oh, right," Rory says, blushing. She hadn't thought about that, she berates herself and almost thinks of calling it off, but shakes herself. This is fine - it's going to be fun - and she firmly puts her arms around Jess's back. "I'm ready."

"Let's go," Jess says, powering up the engine and kicking into the road. Rory's yelp turns into a silent gasp, her grasp tight as they curve through the streets. Jess isn't going fast but Rory's heart is barely stopping, the wind is rushing through her helmet and hair and she can barely reply as Jess calls, "You good back there? Rory?"

"I'm okay!" Rory manages to call back. "I'm okay!"

That's a matter of opinion, Rory amends silently. Her initial panic has disappeared to a kind of rush, the same rush Rory felt when Jess drove her car to get icecream in cones, all those years ago. Rory tries not to think about how that ended, but Jess is steering smoothly, and her fear is more focused on herself, the way her body is thrumming against his. Suddenly, Rory isn't so sure they can be friends after all. Her feelings for him aren't as dormant as she thought. All of her senses seem magnified, more, and all Rory can do is hold onto Jess. She's not sure what it means. She holds onto him, watching the world whirl by, and then suddenly it's over. Jess is slowing down, parking the Vespa back by the diner and climbing off. He holds out a hand which Rory awkwardly takes, helping her off, and grins as he takes off his helmet.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For this," Jess says simply. "All of it - thank you."

"You're welcome," Rory says politely. She smiles, unsure of what else to say, and thinks of mentioning what she felt before, but doesn't know how. It seems too weird. Instead, Rory focuses on taking off her own helmet and the keys from Jess.

"I'm leaving early," Jess tells her. "Guess I should say goodbye..."

"Yes. Okay. Bye."

They look at each other, start to laugh and Rory feels instantly relieved. Maybe it's okay after all.

"Good seeing you," Jess says and Rory says sincerely, "And you too. I'm happy we ran into each other."

"I imagine people will think they hallucinated if they saw us," Jess says, nodding at the Vespa, "but I'll be a few states away if they argue. Besides, I'm just a hoodlum."

"No," Rory says. She laughs but is serious as she says, "You're not a hoodlum, Jess."

"Maybe," Jess says, giving her a crooked grin. "Goodnight, Rory."

"Goodnight, Jess."

Rory walks slowly home, dazed. It already seems like a kind of dream.

The next morning, Lorelai insists on riding the Vespa and drags Rory to the diner before she's even finished her waffle.

"There's waffles at Luke's," she says mercilessly. "And neither of you are going to stop me from taking it for a spin!"

Once at the diner, Luke argues back and forth until agreeing that it's probably fine to ride the Vespa down the street.

"I rode it when I was sixteen," Lorelai insists, ignoring Rory as she says, "You also got pregnant with me."

"Yeah, yeah. Come on offspring - want to brave it with me?"

"You know, I do," Rory says and Lorelai looks at her in surprise.

"Seriously?"

"It's just down the street."

"Didn't think I could wear you down that quickly!" Lorelai says happily. "Was it the Roman Holiday reference?"

They don their helmets, climb on, and Rory puts her arms around her mother's back as the townspeople gather and cheer. Lorelai turns on the engine, drives slowly into the road and then down the street, finding a little speed.

"Isn't this the best?" Lorelai shouts and Rory shouts back, "The Gilmore girls ride in style!"

Carefully, Lorelai turns the Vespa and drives back up to the diner where, keeping her promise, she turns off the engine and hops off, to much applause. Rory gets off as well, laughing, and gives her mother a hug.

"See? I told you I could do it," Lorelai says, before stumbling into Luke's arms.

"Lessons," he says and Lorelai sighs, nodding.

"Real lessons, I swear. But I've got to name it something cool first!"

Rory takes off her helmet, shaking out her hair and as she looks up sees Jess in the window, smiling at her. She smiles back, lifting her hand in greeting, and he waves before silently moving out of sight.

"What?" Lorelai asks and Rory shakes her head, laughing.

"Nothing. This calls for coffee, don't you think?"

"Daughter, everything calls for coffee!"

#Gilmore Girls #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #jess mariano #literati #mine

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secret-kkh-fics · 4 years

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History Repeats | Chapter 3

Due to this not being posted anywhere else yet, please like and DON’T REBLOG my fics.

Chapter Summary:

She went right back to the start, and now it’s time to go right to the end… of her world anyway. Once again back on Platform One, Rose has her first proper chance to try and change things for the better. But it would be so much easier if she could just tell everyone Cassandra was trying to kill them…

Author Note:

Hello, and welcome to The End of the World. If you have a teleportation device to leave this story, they are not prohibited and I would reconsider that course of action. Mostly because this story is starting to get really good. I’ve kept it mostly the same as my original rewrite, but embellished it a little more, and I’m really happy with the direction it’s going.

I hope you enjoy it just as much.

End of the World A Gift in Good Faith

“Right then, Rose Tyler, you tell me. Where do you want to go? Backwards or forwards in time? What’s it going to be?” the Doctor asked the second she reached the console.

“Definitely forward,” she told him.

“How far?”

“Far as you like.”

He grinned in excitement at the prospect. Last time she faintly recalled that they had stopped a few times before she actually got out. He just kept showing off. She watched excitedly as he began madly rushing about the console, turning knobs and pressing buttons. He gave a few pumps of the ‘squeaky thing’, as he’d once described it to her, and then they stopped with a lurch.

“There you go,” he said with a wide grin. “Ten thousand years in the future. Step outside, it’s the year 12,005. The New Roman Empire.”

“You’re kidding!” she exclaimed, acting disbelieving. She saw the smug, self-satisfied grin plastered on his face and cracked up laughing. “Oh, you think you’re so impressive!”

“I am so impressive,” he said defensively. She loved how she could get him sounding that indignant and pouty so fast. God, he just loved showing off so much. He was always out to impress. And if he didn’t, he would pout, then try even harder.

“You wish!” she teased. “Come on, what’s the best you’ve got?!”

He grinned at her challenge, looking like a kid at Christmas. “Alright, Rose Tyler, you asked for it! I know exactly were to go!” He began the dance around the console again, and soon they were landing once more. The Doctor looked at her expectantly and gestured to the doors.

“Where are we?” Rose asked excitedly.

And despite the fact she knew, it really was genuine excitement. She couldn’t believe she was back here. She had once told the Doctor that his life was incredible because he could see days come and gone that only happened once. And she knew from experience that even then they could only go back to see it that once. If they wanted to be safe about it anyway. But here she was, back once more to do it all again. She would be able to have another go. She might be able to save the people that died the first time. She may even actually see the Earth explode this time! …Although, she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing to see…

When the Doctor just looked at her with a smile, she grinned and leaned in excitedly. “What’s out there? Come on, tell me!”

The Doctor just gestured again, and without another beat, she turned and ran out.

Once again, she found herself in that room with the viewing window. The Doctor followed her out and used the sonic screwdriver to open the window so they could look out. They walked down the steps and right up to the glass, and once again her breath was taken away by the spectacular view of the Earth with a huge, dying sun right behind it.

“You lot,” the Doctor said affectionately. “You spend all your time thinking about dying. Like you’re going to get killed by eggs, or beef, or global warming, or asteroids. But you never take the time to imagine the impossible. Maybe you survive. This is the year 5.5/Apple/26. Five billion years in your future. This is the day… hold on…” He looked at his watch, and Rose smiled. “This is the day the sun expands. Welcome to the end of the world!”

“I don’t think about dying,” she told him calmly. His eyebrows rose in surprise at the statement. Out of everything he had said, that had been what she picked up on? But what she said next was what threw him for a loop. “I’m not afraid of dying.”

“Really?” he asked. Most people her like her generally were. Humans were fragile, and most of them feared the inevitable. “Then, what are you afraid of?”

“Leaving people behind,” she said. “Being left alone. No one deserves to be alone.” She saw a look pass across his face at that, but still, she kept staring out at the huge orange sun. “Imagine what it would be like, separated from the person you care the most about in the entire universe. They’re not dead, you know they’re not. Or at least… you hope they’re not. But you can never see them again, never hear their voice. They are somewhere out there, but no power in the universe could bring you together, you may as well be dead to one another. And that makes it even worse because you know that they are out there, all alone… Feeling just as lost and hurt as you are…”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” he noted softly.

Rose started out of her thoughts and finally looked at him, flashing him a forced smile. “Nah, I’m just nineteen. This is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s just a fear.”

Beside her, the Doctor frowned. There was something different about her. She seemed more confident than he had originally thought. And, not to sound rude, but more complex. He had known away from her family and obligations and all the things that dulled her life and held her back, she had the ability to shine. But this was almost something else. In the end, he gave up looking for what was so different about her and headed for the doors and down the corridors. Rose trailed after him, ignoring the announcement that came over the speakers.

“So, what is all of this, anyway?” she asked. She hated having to play dumb, and knew that it was probably going to bug her until she caught up, but the Doctor would get suspicious if she didn’t ask curious questions. She could deal with asking things she already knew the answers to if it meant she got to spend forever with the Doctor. “Some sort of party for people to come and watch the world go ‘boom’?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” the Doctor said, taking out his sonic-screwdriver to open the door that would lead to the main viewing platform. “The great and the good are gathering to watch the planet burn.”

“What for?” she asked.

“Fun!” he replied, grinning as the door slid open. Together, they walked into the huge viewing room where all the guests would soon be gathering. “Mind you,” he tacked on as they went in, “when I say ‘the great and the good’, what I mean is ‘the rich’. There’s gonna be all sorts of people.”

“You mean aliens,” Rose grinned.

“Yep! But who knows, maybe we’ll find some human people too.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” she muttered under her breath. There was no way in hell she was considering Cassandra as a human, even if she had seen her before she became a bloody trampoline.

“I’m not sure if there’s any pure humans left,” the Doctor went on. “You lot went off into the stars and, well, did what humans do,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, “and not always with other humans. But, this is the end of your planet, there has to at least be one human representitve of some kind.”

“Are you trying to suggest that humans are the bunnies of the universe, Doctor?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Oh, not at all. There are several species out there that could claim that title. Though, you are up there. Definitely the most far reaching. You lot are everywhere. It’s all very Captain Kirk.”

Rose giggled and they walked closer to the main viewing window. The sun could be seen like an explosion, looming over the planet before them. “God, it’s beautiful,” she said in awe, staring down at her planet. “It’s strange thinking that it’s gonna be different. That all this will be gone. That sun’s been there for billions and billions of years. And then it starts to die and billions of years it just…”

“Turns into a red giant and destroys majority of the planets around it. Mercury, Venus and Mars are already gone,” he told her. “Only reason Earth hasn’t gone yet is that it’s being protected. The planet’s the property of the National Trust. They’ve been keeping it preserved, using gravity satellites to hold back the sun.”

��A ‘National’ Trust that looks after an entire planet?” she snorted, making the Doctor snigger at her point. “And what? They just ‘put the countries back in the right place’ for the 21st century? I thought the continents were supposed to shift. Earthquakes, ice ages, global warming, rising sea and all that. You know, supercontinents forming and breaking apart and smashing back together in different ways to make new supercontenets.”

“They did… to both. The continents shifted and the Trust moved them back. That down there is a Classic Earth.”

“Classic? Who decided that?” she asked. “If someone made the choice to just… completely rearrange the landmasses back to how the used to be, why this era? Why not Pangea or Rodinia or some era from the future? Why is my time so special?”

“Oh, Rose Tyler. The 21st century is when it all changes. It’s when you lot finally really get out there and begin to explore the stars. It’s also the era that the National Trust was founded. But now their money’s run out, so nature takes its course.”

“Right… nature. And when does that happen exactly?”

The Doctor looked down at his watch. “About half an hour. And then the planet gets roasted!” He grinned manically, his eyebrows rising in excitement. She noted that it wasn’t quite as manical as his next incarnation’s could be, but it still made her smile to herself.

“So, the Earth’s about to go ‘bye bye’, you’re not gonna stop it because it’s time is up. Or well, it’s time was up ages ago and they’re finally letting it happen. And this is some sort of party to… celebrate the fact that it’s not gonna be there anymore… Where are all the people? On Earth, I mean. They can’t still be down there.”

She knew the answer to that, of course. About now, a good amount of them would be settling down on New Earth or other planets.

“Nope, they left. All gone,” he replied. “Packed up and moved. Settled down in colonies on planets, in spaceships. Like I said, you humans are everywhere.”

“Mmm, we may just be stupid apes, but you love us,” she teased, giving him her tongue in teeth grin. The wide grin he had on his face at that suddenly dropped when a voice came from behind them.

“Who the hell are you?!” They spun around to see the blue skinned steward striding towards them.

“Oh, that’s nice. Thanks,” the Doctor said sarcastically.

“But how did you get in?” the steward snipped. “This is a maximum hospitality zone. The guests have disembarked! They’re on their way any second now!”

“That’s me,” the Doctor said quickly. “Look, I’ve got an invitation.” He took the psychic paper from his pocket and held it up to the man. “Look, you see? It’s fine, you see? The Doctor, plus one. I’m the Doctor, this is Rose Tyler. She’s my plus one. That alright?”

“Well… obviously,” he said stiffly. He seemed awkward and slightly embarrassed that he had mistaken guests for something else. He’d sort of been right, but he didn’t know that. Rose idly wondered if he turned purple when he blushed… assuming his blood was red. “Apologies, etcetera. If you’re onboard, we’d better start. Enjoy.” Then he briskly walked off to the podium near the door.

The Doctor turned to show her the psychic paper. “Nifty, that,” she told him.

“Yep! It’s psychic paper. Shows them whatever I want to see. Saves a lot of time.”

“And if you don’t have time to make them see anything?”

“Then their mind fills it in for them,” he told her. It was something she already knew, but then he told her something he’d never told her in the two plus years she’d known him. “Only genuses see it as blank. I only see it because I chose to.”

“Full of yourself, aren’t ya?” she laughed. “So, what kind of alien is he?”

“Hmm, well…” The Doctor looked at the steward a moment. “I would say he’s one of the many species of Crespallion. Majority of the humanoid species there have blue skin. There’s at least three separate races, all distinguishable by height. Only… I can’t quite remember which is which at the moment…”

“So much for genius,” she teased, bumping into his shoulder playfully.

Before the Doctor would even react indignantly the steward, once again, interrupted them as he spoke into the microphone.

“We have in attendance: the Doctor and Rose Tyler. Thank you. All staff to their positions.” He gave a sharp clap and soon a whole bunch of tiny blue aliens were scurrying about, getting everything ready. Rose remembered what the Doctor had just said and realised that these people must be one of the blue races. Just like that other blue woman she’d met the first time around. The space plummer. The steward encouraged them along a moment before turning back to the door. And now, might I introduce the next honoured guest: represent the forest of Cheem, we have Trees. Namely Jabe, Lute and Coffa.”

The doors opened again, and out stepped the three humanoid trees Rose remembered from last time. She’d only briefly seen them, and only really remembered Jabe, but still, she got mixed feelings seeing the beautiful flora woman. Knowing what was likely coming up, she felt an annoying surge of jealousy, recalling how she and the Doctor had flirted the entire time. And that had just been while she was still in the same room as them. But she also knew that last time, Jabe had died trying to save everyone here, trying to give the Doctor time to do… something that would put the shields back up. Knowing that she would die made her both sad and determined. She wouldn’t let that happen if she could help it. That was one of the perks of her being back here. She could try and fix things like this.

Maybe this time, Jabe didn’t have to die. There had to be something that she had missed, being trapped in that room most of the time, that could prevent her from giving her life. And, maybe, if she saved her and Jabe flirted with the Doctor again, she could have a go at her. The thought made her smile, getting to save a life and have a go at an annoyingly flirtatious tree.

The idea quickly fled her mind. The Doctor wasn’t exactly hers. As far as he was aware, they’d only just met. It wasn’t like she had any right to start going off at someone for flirting with him.

“There will be an exchange of gifts representing peace,” the steward went on, snapping her out of that little thought. “If you can keep the room circulating, thank you. Next, from the solicitors Jolco and Jolco, the Moxx of Balhoon.” The doors opened once more and in rolled the tubby blue pixie-like alien on his chair. He had been one of the people to die in the end if she remembered correctly. So many had died…

She listened as the steward continued to introduce all kinds of strange aliens, watching as they all filed through the doors. She vaguely remembered being overwhelmed last time, but this time she just felt her usual curiosity as she took in how different they were, storing away the questions that bubbled up about their species and where they were from, what was their planet like, how they did certain things when they were so different from humans.

She couldn’t help the small shudder that shook her when the Repeated Meme came in, knowing that Cassandra would use them to pull off her plan. She still remembered that they had attacked her. However, when the Face of Boe came in, she looked up hopefully. She had wanted to talk to the Face of Boe so badly. There had been so much she’d wanted to ask him last time she’d seen him, but she hadn’t been able to do anything because of bloody Cassandra taking over her body.

Beside her, she could practically feel the Doctor laughing at her reactions, and turned to see him grinning down at her. She narrowed her eyes at him, making him grin even wider. But they were interrupted from their silent conversation when Jable and her two companions stepped up to them and tilted her head in greeting.

“The gift of peace,” she said to them. “I bring you a cutting of my grandfather.” She reached behind her and grabbed a small pott with a twig growing in it from her companion and then handed it to the Doctor.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling at her, and then he handed the potted twig to Rose. “Yes, gifts… erm…” He patted down his pockets, not finding anything to give her. Not that a pat-down would do much good with the tech he’d sewn into those things, and if he dug his hand in, they’d probably be there forever. He was quite attached to the random things he shoved in his pockets. “I give you in return-”

“Three hairs from my head,” Rose cut him off, remembering what had happened last time. With her free hand, she reached up and plucked a few strands, twisting them into a neat loop and handed them to Jabe. Quick thinking wasn’t always her best talent, and the only thing that had come to her head was a scene from the first Lord of the Rings movie, where Gimli had asked for Galadriel’s hair as a parting gift.

“Thank you.” Jabe smiled at her, carefully taking the loop of hair and handed it to the companion on the other side of her, who then placed it in a bag. Then they moved on. She grinned as she watched them go, but as she turned back, she caught the look the Doctor was giving her.

“What?” she said indignantly. “She gave us something off a living person. At least I have enough hair!” The Doctor huffed and rubbed his hand over his short-cropped hair. She suddenly found herself wondering if he’d had more hair in his previous incarnation. After all, she knew he loved his hair in the next. “Besides,” she muttered, “it’s better than ‘air from your lungs’.”

At this, the Doctor’s brows rose, then drew together in confusion. He wondered what had made her say that? How could she have known that just before she had jumped in, that was exactly what he was going to say?

All too quickly, he was distracted from that thought when the next guest rolled up. “The Mox of Balhoon!” he cried in delight. He lent down a little so he was more on eye level with the blue alien. He didn’t even notice Rose creep beind him. She may not remember every detail of something that had happened years ago for her, but she vividly remembered what came next. It was a little too gross of a first impression to forget.

“My felicitations on this historical happenstance. I give you the gift of bodily saliva,” he chirped in reply. And with that, he spat… right into the Doctor’s eye.

Behind him, Rose burst into a fit of giggled, glad that it wasn’t her this time. “Thank you!” she laughed, popping her head over the Doctor’s shoulder and handing him some of her hair. Then, she immediately stiffened when the Mox of Balhood moved away and the Repeated Meme approached. With a tight expression, she stepped out from behind the Doctor and plucked three hairs from her head to give to them.

“Ah! The Adherents of the Repeated Meme,” the Doctor grinned. “I bring you hair frim my companion’s peroxide head.”

“Oi!” she cried indignantly as he grabbed the hairs from her and gave them to the Memes.

“A gift of peace in all good faith,” the leader rasped. It held out the silver ball that was its ‘gift’. The Doctor took it from them, tossing it in the air a moment, and then handed it to Rose. She was hesitant taking it from him, and held it almost gingerly in her hand, turning it around to look at it. She recalled that the Doctor had told her these were how Cassandra smuggled the spiders in. She hoped that there was a latch or some kind of button that she would be able to play around with and ‘accidentally’ let the spider out of the bag early. She couldn’t find one, the surface almost completely smooth, other than the lines etched in it. She assumed that they must be controlled to open on Cassandra’s end. She could probably get it open with the sonic, but the Doctor would most definitely get too suspicious if she just suddenly grabbed his beloved tool off him and instantly knew how to use it to open something that looked otherwise benign.

“And last, but not least,” the steward called out as the Memes moved off. “Our very special guest. Ladies and Gentlemen, and Trees and Multiforms. Consider the Earth below. In memory of this dying world, we call forth the Last Human. The Lady Cassandra O’Brien. Δ17!”

The doors once more slid open to reveal the flat stretch of skin on a frame with lipstick and eyes and a brain in a jar that was Cassandra, the ‘last human’. The Doctor looked down to watch Rose’s reaction, he was sure that she would be shocked and absolutely baffled that this was the last of her race, but what he saw instead surprised him. Rose barely looked shocked at all. Instead, she was glaring almost coldly at the woman, an expression that wavered as it seemed to battle it out with a look of sympathy. He was baffled by this, not entirely sure why she would react like that. Rose herself was a bit of a mystery he was intreaged to solve. She often seemed simple enough on the outside, but he could tell that there was something there, just below the surface…

“Oh, now, don’t stare,” Cassandra gushed. “I know, I know. It’s shocking, isn’t it? I’ve had my chin completely taken away and look at the difference! Look how thin I am!”

Rose’s eyes widened in disbelief. She knew that Cassandra was conceited and absoulty full of herself, but she had forgotten just how bad she bad been, especially this first time they’d met her. Even though she knew how things would turn out for the flap of skin, the way she talked was still enough to gall. She could feel the Doctor shaking with barely contained laughter beside her, and she reisted the urge to elbow him in the side. Sure, he’d think it was funny now… wait until that cow had possessed him and was talking about how ‘yum’ it was to be in his body. Rose was sorely tempted to fulfil one of her day dreams then and there, and run over to Cassandra, flip her on her… back? …and jump on her!

“Thin and dainty,” Cassandra went on. Rose had to clench her fists and force herself to stay still so she didn’t act out what was going through her mind out of sheer spite and annoyance. “I don’t look a day over two thousand! Moisterise me, moisterise me!” she muttered to the white suited men either side of her. One of them lifted his canister and sprayed her. “Truly, I am the Last Human. My father was Texan. My mother was from the Arctic Desert. They were born on the Earth, and they were the last to be buried in its soil. I have come to honour them and…” she gave a sniff, “say goodbye. Oh, no tears. No tears. I’m sorry.” One of the men wiped at her eyes, and though Rose was facing her ‘back’, she was fairly sure her eyes were dry as a bone. “But behold! I bring gifts from Earth itself. The last remaining ostrich egg…” A tiny blue Crespallian brought it in, and Rose eyed it warily. She had still been trapped in that room at the time, but the Doctor had told her that Cassandra had hidden some device inside it. “Legend says it had a wingspan of fifty feet and blew fire from its nostrils! …or was that my third husband?” There were a few laughs around the room, including the Doctor’s. Rose just rolled her eyes in grudging amusement. It was typical Cassandra. “Who knows? Oh, don’t laugh. I’ll get laughter lines!” Behind her, the staff wheeled in a jukebox and Rose had to suppress a grin, remembering the deluge of misinformation Cassandra was about to spill. It amused her to no end – now that she wasn’t so horrified and overwhelmed to appreciate it all – that Cassandra got so many things wrong about her own culture. Then again, she assumed that if she were to talk about the few items from Ancent Rome she’d known about in school, she probably would have sounded just as daft. Humans had always gone with whatever little knowledge they had and assumed the rest, taking it as fact. And the fact was that a lot of information was lost to history. “And here, another rarity. According to the archives, this was called an ‘iPod’. It stores classical music from humanity’s greatest composers. Play on!”

At her cue, someone started up the jukebox, and ‘Tainted Love’ by Soft Cell filled the room. As far as classical and ‘humanity’s greatest composters’ went, Rose was most certain that this was not one. In fact, she was pretty sure it was a one-hit-wonder. She rolled her eyes and grinned, watching as the Doctor did a little bobbing dance… and that was just too much. That really was the cherry on top!

Last time, she had just been so bewildered, so shocked, so overwhelmed, that she didn't notice much of what was going on. She couldn't properly appreciate all the things she had just seen. But this time she could. And she was realising just how much she had missed. Once more, the fact that she had a second chance to do this all again hit her with full force.

A laugh bubbled up within her, and she clapped her hand to her mouth to stop it. It didn’t do much to help, and soon she had burst out into hysterical giggles. The Doctor watched her, grinning in amusement, and soon he joined in, chuckling away with her.

But Rose couldn’t stop laughing, the giggle overtaking to the point that she just wanted to sit on the floor and laugh until she was done. Tears were starting to leak down her cheeks, and people were starting to stare at her. The Doctor was looking at her in confusion but still slightly amused. He looked like he was about to ask her what was so funny, so she raised a finger to him, then ran out of the room.

She ran out and down through all the halls until she found herself at the observation room she had been in last time. She was almost calm by the time she reached it, but then she saw a group of the tiny blue staff members pushing the TARDIS out the door and away somewhere, and she burst into a peal of fresh giggles. It wasn’t until later on in the TARDIS that she realised she hadn’t met the other blue woman, the space plumber this time.

It took her a while to calm down. Mostly because she kept thinking about how she was probably going a bit overbored, and it just seemed so ridiculous. It just made her keep laughing at herself. Why was she still laughing? It wasn’t that funny! God, something was wrong with her. Maybe being in the parallel universe and coming back in time by jamming her mind into her younger self’s body had made her insane…

When it came down to it, she didn’t much care.

“What’s so funny?” the Doctor asked with a small chuckle of his own when he finally found her. He came and sat on the other side of the stairs, just like he had last time.

“Everything!” Rose gasped out. The laughter had died down now, but she was still yet to fully get her breath back, or shake the weird jitters that had come over her. “It’s just so blimmen incredible! Just this… it’s so…” Sighing, she layed back so she was lying on the ground, looking up at the ceiling, with her feet hanging over the edge, swinging slightly.

“You’re taking this all pretty well,” he commented. “Well, apart from that little hysterical breakdown back there.”

Rose let out a small laugh, covering her face in embarrisment. Oh god, what was she doing? She was supposed to be making it look like this was the first time she’d ever seen a big bunch of aliens. She should be asking more questions, being curious, acting amazed. If she didn’t, he would probably think she was a bit daft or start suspecting something. How many people had he shown the stars and all that came with it and they had just… accepted everything. Probably no one. She couldn’t be that person!

“There’s just… so many aliens!” she told him. “Like, alien aliens! Just days ago, I didn’t even believe in them. Like, yeah, I thought that there had to be a planet out there that could have some kind of like, but not like this! I used to think that people who believed in aliens like this were complete nutters! Now I’m the nutter… and I love it!” She turned her head to the Doctor and grinned at him. He smiled back at her, and she found the usual questions bubbling up within her. She’d always wanted to know more about his planet. He very rarely spoke of his home and his people, and she’d always felt too guilty to ask, knowing how much it hurt him. But those questions were there. And why not ask them? She should at least try and get him to tell her the basic stuff, so she didn’t end up slipping up and saying something before she was told. “So, where are you from, then?”

“All over the place,” he replied nonchalantly, streatching out a little.

Rose snorted, sitting up again. “That’s not an answer!” He clearly wasn’t okay with sharing more that than right now, and she wasn’t going to push him, but she didn’t want to give up on it either. Instead, she asked another question. One she already knew the answer to, so it would be important to get it out of the way. “Why are they all speaking English?” she asked. “I thought they’d be speaking… Tree-ish and stuff.”

“Tree-ish?!” the Doctor laughed. “Nah, they are speaking their language, you just hear English. It’s a gift of the TARDIS. Telepathic field gets inside your brain and translates.”

“Right…” She drew the word out. She knew better than to go mental time time. She had been upset she wasn’t asked last time, but now she knew better. Besides, the TARDIS was her friend, and now it was more than just the telepathic field affecting her. “So… you have a telepathic, sentient ship that can turn any language in the universe into the one that you speak?”

“Yep!”

“Right, because who doesn’t have one of those?” she said sarcastically.

“Ah, everyone but me,” he told her, quite obviously.

“And how come you get one?”

“Because it’s from my home planet.”

“And where’s that?” she asked excitedly. Sure, she knew the name of his planet… but that was all. At her question, though, the Doctor’s face fell and he floundered for a moment. She knew the mournful look in his eyes well, though she doubted anyone just meeting him would, and her heart broke for him. Doubt and guilt began to fill her mind. Maybe she shouldn’t do this. He was clearly upset about it and… and the same thing would happen all again. She had never asked because she didn’t want to upset him. But what if opening up about his home helped him. Having someone to share it with at least in some small way.

“It-it’s not like you’ll know where it is…” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. But can I at least get a name? I mean, let’s face it, Doctor, I know nothing about you… I kind of just ran away with a total stranger. So, where you from?”

The Doctor stared straight ahead for a good while, to the point that Rose was sure he wasn’t going to say anything. But just as she was about to say something else, he huffed out a breath and gave a harsh nod, as if trying to encourage himself to speak. “Gallifrey,” he finally croaked out. Rose’s brows rose in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to actually say it.

“Sounds pretty. Kind of Gaelic. So, you’re… Gallifreyan?”

“Yep,” he chuckled lowly. “But my people are called Time Lords.”

“Time Lords?”

“We were the first species to discover time travel. So, we sort of… govern over time. Prevent paradoxes and watch over the universe, observing everything.”

“What’s Gallifrey like?”

The Doctor took a deep breath. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she thought that this was when he was going to suddenly change the subject on her, so she was surprised when, again, he kept going. “Well, it’s beautiful,” he said quietly. She grinned at that, but then she noticed that he had said ‘it’s’ – as in, current tense – and her brow furrowed for a moment. She quickly plastered a gentle smile on her face by the time he turned to look at her. He was suddenly very expressive, using his entire body to tell her about the beauty of his planet. “The sky’s a burnt orange,” he told her wistfully. “With the Citadel enclosed in a might glass dome, shining under the twin suns. Beyond that, the mountains go on forever. Slopes of deep red grass capped with snow…” He trailed off, just remembering for a moment. And Rose’s heart broke as she realised what he was doing, the way he was speaking. He was pretending his planet and his people were all still there. He was using her ‘ignorance’ as an excuse to pretend, for just a moment, that the Time War hadn’t destroyed everything he had known and loved about his home planet. “The second sun rises in the south, and the mountains just shine. The leaves on the trees are silver, and when they catch the light every morning, it looks like a forest on fire. When autumn comes, the breeze blows through the branches like a song…” He faded off, staring out into the starscape before them.

Despite the sadness she could see in his eyes, Rose was left stating at him in wonder and awe. His home sounded beautiful. She’d never heard so much about it before, other than its name and the odd comment. But the way he described it was like poetry. She could almost see exactly what he described, high peaked, snow-capped mountains with red slopes, and the large house on the hills of Peridon, as if she’d plucked the very image from his mind.

“Can you take me there sometime?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, too caught up in the moment. She wanted to take them back right away, but really, she knew that it was a good thing she had. She was supposed to be clueless. If she didn’t know the truth, she most definitely would have asked that question.

“Nah!” the Doctor cried, jumping up and walking over towards the window, looking out at the dying planet before them. “Why would I want to go back there? So many more exciting planets to see. Besides, I don’t want to go home.”

If Rose hadn’t known he was lying, she would never have noticed the slight quiver in his voice. She knew him well enough to know that right now, with his back to her like that, he was trying to blink the tears from his eyes before they even fell. It was a realisation that shocked her. She had never seen him cry in this incarnation. She’d seem him close like this only a handful of times in both incarnations. It took a lot to make him cry, and the only time she knew for sure that he had was when she saw him cry just before he disappeared on Dårlig Ulv Stranden.

She got up, moving to comfort him, or do something that would snap him out of his mood without alerting him to the fact she knew he was upset. And seeing him like that, staring out forlornly at the dying planet, it suddenly struck her. She realised why he had brought her here. He may not have done it intentionally, but he had done it none the less. He brought her here so that she could feel the pain of watching her planet burn. So that someone could understand, at least a little, how he felt.

She kept forgetting how different he had been right at the beginning, their later adventures too ingrained in her mind. At this point in time, he was a broken man, fresh out of a war that had devastated a good part of the universe and taken everything from him. A man of pain, and anger, and bloodshed. He shied away from the violence he had been a part of for so long, but he was still so angry.

He was just so different. And not just different from his next incarnation, but different from how she remembered this him to be. He had seemed happier back then… or, well… would be happier soon…

Gently she laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a small nudge and a smile. He seemed to accept the small comfort she gave and smiled tightly in return.

“Hey, we don’t have to go there if you don’t want to,” she told him, attempting to make it sound like she still didn’t have a clue. “No arguing with the designated driver, right?” He gave a small chuckle at this. Smiling at her success, she took out her phone in a futher attempt to distract him. “Besides, can’t exactly call for a taxi now, can I? There’s no signal. We’re out of range… Well, only by a few billion years.”

The Doctor chuckled again and finally turned to her, all signs of pain gone from his face. “Tell you what,” he said, grabbing the phone off her and fiddling about with it. “With a little bit of jiggery pokery…”

“Is that a technical term, ‘Jiggery pokery’?” she teased.

“Yeah, I came first in jiggery pokery. What about you?”

“Nah,” she laughed. “I took hullabaloo.”

“Did you pass?” he asked her.

“Do you think I’d be talking to you if I didn’t?”

He laughed. “Fair point. There you go.” He handed the phone back to her.

Hesitantly, Rose began to dial her mum’s number. She tried to summon the expression of utter wonder she likely had the first time she had done this. She was glad of the years she’d done theatre in school, even though it had been many years for her now.

The phone picked up. “Hello?” Jackie’s voice came down the line.

“Mum?” Rose said.

“Oh, what is it? What’s wrong?” she complained. “What have I done now? Oh, this red top’s falling to bits! You should get your money back. Go on! There must be something, you never phone in the middle of the day.”

Rose laughed, tears welling in her eyes. It was her mum. Her wonderful, silly mother! Back when she was still so innconcent. Before she knew about aliens and extrateriestiel threats. Before she started to fear for her daughter’s life. Before she was ripped from her own world and life. Before she had ever had to watch her daughter sobbing in heartbroken grief, or screaming from the pain of her migraines, or shaking as a seizure wracked her body…

“What’s so funny?” Jackie asked.

“Nothing! You alright, though?”

“Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking in, is all. Look, Mum, I just wanted to tell you, I might be away for a bit, yeah? A friend and I are going on a trip. Not too sure when I’ll be back.”

“Oh, where you going?”

“Oh, you know. Just here and there. Making it up as we go along.” She glanced at the Doctor with a grin.

“Alright then, you be safe, though, Love.”

“Yeah, I… I will, promise,” she told her, guilt tugging at her chest.

“You better… Is something wrong?”

“No! No, I’m fine! …Top of the world!” Beside her, the Doctor laughed quietly at her joke. She hung up and turned to him.

“Think that’s amazing, you want to see the bill,” he joked.

“That was five billion years ago,” she said. To be honest, despite the fact that she had used ‘universal roaming’ for years, the idea of it still left her a bit dazed. There were so few places that the signal didn’t work. No matter where they went in time and space, she had always been able to call home. Even now, it was just so incredible. There were some things about her life with the Doctor that she didn’t think she would ever get used to. “I just called my mum through time. This is… This is…” The Doctor looked at her in amusement, but was startled when she was suddenly in his arms the next moment, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

As she spoke the words, it occurred to her that she had never truly thanked him before. She had told him that she loved travelling with him, and how brilliant it was, that she would never have missed it for the world… but she had never once said ‘thank you’.

Hesitiatnly, the Doctor brought his arms up and hugged her back. “You’re welcome,” he told her. He didn’t think he’d ever had a companion quite like Rose Tyler. “You like hugs, don’t you?” he laughed.

Rose nodded into his shoulder, he could feel her smiling. And although he had never been the hugging type – or at least, he didn’t think he was, he hadn’t been hugged by many people in this incarnation – he found he quite liked this. He liked the feel of someone holding him, of Rose pressed against his… But he was not going to admit that, for many, many reasons.

Suddenly, they were jolted apart when the platform gave a huge, jerking shudder. The Doctor looked at her and then around the room. “That’s not supposed to happen,” he said. Excitement began to stir within him and a wide grin spread across his face. He lived for adventure. It had been a part of his life for so long that it encouraged him. It drove him on. And he could see something in Rose’s eyes that told him that she was the same. He’d seen that same driving curiosity the first time he’d met her.

“Honoured guests may be reassured that gravity pockets may cause slight turbulence, thanking you,” the steward said over the speaker.

His eyebrows rose at that and he turned to her excitedly. “Come on. Let’s go.” And then, with her hand in his, they ran from the room.

Author Note:

Again, this was such a fun one to play around with. I loved working in their natural banter in a bit of a different way, and showing how much more confident in herself Rose has become since she first met the Doctor. I could also see her trying to push for things in ways she didn’t originally, and being better at defusing tension. Which led to her conversation with the Doctor about Gallifrey. I could really see him pretending they were still around, like he had with Martha. But since it’s all so fresh for him and the implications of their trip, he would probably be desperate to pretend, if only for a moment.

Word count from 4,937 to 7,317words (8 → 12 pages).

Chapter Index | First Chapter | << Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

#history repeats #doctor who

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bbclesmis · 5 years

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In the Director’s Chair: Tom Shankland on learning from actors & unhealthy obsessions with Roman emperors

The latest director to answer The Drum’s questions in our Director’s Chair series is Tom Shankland, who is represented by Great Guns for branded content. Having worked on TV shows such as Les Misérables and House of Cards, Shankland talks to the Drum about being inspired by actors and why the original Tango ad is still the best ad.

Previously in the series, The Drum has quizzed Matías Moltrasio, Jamie Jay Johnson, Emmanuel Adjei, Henry Busby, Andrew Lang, Camille Marotte, Mea Dols de Jong, Klaus Obermeyer, Eli Roth, Mate Steinforth, Pamela Romanowsky, Traktor and Doug Liman.

Who or what inspired you to be a director? (or who are your creative heroes and why?)

Once upon a time in Italy, my dad took me to an open-air screening of Spartacus. I can still hear the cries of 'Io sono Spartacus!' echoing around the night sky as bats flew across the screen. At the time, I probably had a very unhealthy obsession with very violent Roman emperors, so I'm blaming Stanley Kubrick, Kirk Douglas, Emperor Caligula and my dad for my (healthier?) obsession with the awesome, emotional, inspirational power of cinema.

Outside of work, what are you into?

If I'm not dreaming up shots or cursing budgets, I love being as childish as humanly possible with my kids, leaping around a soft-play area, racing around the kitchen with my one-and-a-half-year-old in the guise of a squeaky anime creature. I like cooking for friends and family, transcendental meditation, pouring over photography books, and anything at all with my girlfriend.

How would you describe your style of commercial/film making? What are you known for?

My directing heroes like Billy Wilder or Howard Hawks seemed to make musicals one month, film noirs the next, and a classic Western just after that. I like to push myself towards genres I haven't tried before. It was great to venture into the Marvel universe for the pilot of The Punisher, come up for air and then dive deep into Victor Hugo's 19th France with Les Misérables and all of the challenges of a classic literary adaptation and period drama.

I love working with actors and have been lucky to work with some of the best – Tom Hardy (WΔZ), Olivia Colman (Les Mis), Robin Wright (House of Cards), Dominic West (Les Mis), David Oyelowo (Les Mis) and many others. As a director, I've learned so much from listening to the actors. A strong vision is essential but without collaboration, it can end up being imposing and dull. I always enjoy trying to squeeze every drop of emotional truth from a moment, however, heightened, bizarre, or seemingly implausible a scene might be.

Much that I love actors, I'm also a massive Alfred Hitchcock fan, who famously quipped that actors are cattle. Hitch was probably just being mischievous but I've always loved his 'Total Cinema'. A good script and good performances alone don’t make filmmaking. I'm always looking for ways to use every element of the medium to max out on tension and create visual metaphors. Whatever I'm doing, I want to keep the audience on the edge of their seats!

I approach commercials in exactly the same way. Of course, short-form is a very different discipline, but the ingredients are the same: framing, sound, performance, design, the rhythm of the storytelling. I find it fascinating because it’s like a beautiful miniature. You have to work so much more forensically but it is still about pictures, people, and story.

Have you got an idea about what sort of projects you’d like to work on or are you quite open-minded about what work comes your way?

I love to have adventures I haven't had before. If I'm reading something new, I like that little feeling of fear and excitement about stepping into a story or setting I haven't explored before. The protagonist or people have to grab me in some way. I don't have to love them, I just have to be fascinated by what makes them tick.

Increasingly, if it is drama, I like scripts that try to talk about the world we live in now. I wish I was drawn to escapist entertainment, but I always gravitate to pieces that feel like they might resonate with the audience's own experiences. The Marvel shows I've done might look like superhero fun on the surface, but Black Lives Matter and the tough times faced by war veterans haunt Luke Cage and The Punisher. I'm not automatically drawn to period pieces but there was so much in Andrew Davies' adaptation of Les Misérables that made me think of our current chaotic political situation and social injustices. I'm not interested in preachy soapbox stuff, but I like it when great entertainment also tries to be smart and thought-provoking.

What's your funniest moment on set?

I love shooting and I generally find that the darker the piece, the more entertaining the atmosphere is on set. I made a film called The Children where little kids turn on their parents in increasingly disturbing ways. I wanted it to be a smart chiller about parental anxieties and how people deal with aggression in their kids. Needless to say, everybody was very concerned about making sure the child actors weren't remotely disturbed by the material, so the crew and I went to great lengths to turn everything into a fun game. One of the children we worked with actually got in touch with me recently and sounded incredibly well-balanced.

The kids loved the experience - the adults were completely freaked out! I can still remember one six-year-old going up to her screen mum at lunchtime, pretending to jab a pen in her eye. Once she had learned that she was going to do this for a scene, she thought it was hilarious. At the end of the shoot, the children wanted to keep their blood-spattered costumes as a souvenir. They were incredibly sad when it all ended. Scary film – a wonderfully fun shoot!

What's your best piece of work?

I'm proud of everything that I've done where I felt the vision was at its purest. This isn't the same as thinking of something as 'my best work'. It’s such a good feeling when the gap between ambition and finished work feels narrow. I sometimes think that if I've shot my tone book, then I've succeeded - this is probably true for The Children, The Missing, and Les Misérables.

There were also episodes of House of Cards that I did where we created a dreamscape that fitted the overall tone of that show and that was very satisfying to pull off. Recently, I made a four-part TV series called The City and The City that involved an incredibly challenging concept: two over-lapping cities in which each population pretends they can't see the other citizens. I was very proud that we dug so deep on a very challenging budget to find the right visual language.

Which ad do you wish you'd made?

There are so many. I should probably nominate most ads by Jonathan Glazer for their beautiful, lyrical, filmic sensibility, but just for fun, I'm going to say the first Tango ad because I know Ben, the actor, who nailed that look! I love Ben's face and I found a little part of him in Les Miserables. 'You've been Hugo'd'!

How well does the information flow between client, agency and production company on a job?

In my experience, the flow of information between agency, producer and client on an ad shoot is very good (maybe too good at times! ). I have learned quite a lot from that process of having to be incredibly precise in PPMs about what the shooting plans are. In a drama, you tend to want to balance being clear with execs about the plan for the shoot, but also allowing space for those beautiful happy accidents. In general, I'm a fan of bringing everyone with you on a shoot rather than keeping them in the dark. Much that I love an auteur, it is a bit of a fantasy that directors achieve their vision entirely by themselves.

What's been the biggest change to the industry during your career?

The film, TV and advertising industries have all changed massively in the last ten years or so. I have to say (but maybe I'm biased) that a lot of the most creative storytelling seems to be happening on TV now. This will all change, but there seems to have been a big re-calibration of budgets and creative freedom across the mediums; in TV, artistic freedom and budgets seem to have gone up and vice versa in the film unless it involves a superhero.

Of course, everybody is watching content differently now. You only have to look at Great Guns’ (the guys that represent me for branded work) work to see how progressive and inventive that medium has become across so many disciplines and genres - from branded short films to documentaries to music videos. I love how these long-form ideas are taking hold in the world of advertising. It is a confusing but potentially creative time as the world adjusts to this big transition.

Have you worked on any client direct commercials (no agency involved)? What's been the difference?

I've never worked on a client direct project so 'no comment'!

https://www.thedrum.com/news/2019/02/11/the-director-s-chair-tom-shankland-learning-actors-unhealthy-obsessions-with-roman

#les mis bbc #bbc les mis #articles #tom shankland #Interviews

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leadandtreesdocx · 6 years

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High Hopes

Fandom: Star Trek (2009)

Word Count: 2,202

Summary: An alternate timeline begs for more differences, and this story explores one to do with Spock. Or, why the Spock in this reality is so emotional. Hint: It has to do with a girl.

Before Spock was born, the doctors and specialists loved to tell her of her chances to conceive. Or rather, lack thereof.

“Though similar in many aspects,” They would drone, trying to be delicate and tiptoe but at the same time firm enough to get the point across to this obviously simple human. “Vulcan and human physiology isn't compatible in this way. A naturally conceived child is highly improbable.”

Naturally, Amanda was upset by this. She had two sisters growing up and had always imagined children of her own. Little ones that would feel loved and cherished under her protection. When she got married, the vision was only slightly altered as she now wanted children with her husband. She approached Sarek with this topic, his response being irritatingly logical, as always.

“When we decided upon pursuing our relations, many possibilities came to the forefront of my mind. One of those was children and the rarity it is for humans and Vulcans to be suitable in a reproductive capacity. This is something I accepted early on.”

“But what if we grow to want children? What if I want to be a mother?” Amanda argued, growing exasperated by the unflinching nature of those around her. She didn't want complacency, she wanted solutions.

“As always, there are options. Besides adoption, cloning therapy has gone a long way in producing healthy offspring. However, I understand that many humans oppose this option for ethical reasons.” Amanda rolled her eyes and left to find a different opinion, her husband pondering on what, exactly, he had done wrong.

After this talk, as well as talks with her parents, siblings, and others, Amanda had given up any hope for a child of her own. She wanted a life with Sarek, and if this couldn't include a life with a child from both of them - she could live with it. She had just started to look into the options Sarek spoke of (boy or girl, Vulcan or human, none of the above?) when she went for a routine checkup and found herself three weeks pregnant.

Nine months passed and Spock was born, a tiny, wailing infant that came into the world in the spring. He had her eyes and Sarek’s ears and both of them were in love, even if it was only Amanda who showed it outwardly. They had a family.

And that was all Amanda ever wanted.

“Mother, what does this mean?” Amanda and Sarek paused their discussion and turned around to see a four year old Spock clutching the datapad they were currently discussing, one from her last medical appointment. He had a slightly alarmed expression on his face, not having learned to block out all emotion, especially at home. “Are you ill?”

Amanda laughed gently. “Not at all, dear.” She sent a warning look to her husband before leaning down to be on Spock’s level, smiling kindly. “It means that you're going to be having a sister.”

Spock blinked.

“You are… with child?”

Amanda laughed again, because his father had said the exact same thing the hour before when she told him. Sometimes their similarities couldn’t be more apparent.

“Yes, Spock. Are you excited to have a baby sister?”

Spock blinked again as his face settled into one of deep contemplation. His parents looked on as his young mind tried to formulate what he was (or was not) feeling.

“As an older brother,” Spock glanced up hesitantly at his father. “What do I have to do?”

Sarek thought about the answer before answering his son with his usual seriousness. “Older kin have a duty to pass on any and all knowledge to their legacies. In doing so, you have a responsibility to this person - one to protect them. Do you understand?”

“I,” Spock faltered, his face scrunching up a little in his confusion. “I believe so.”

Amanda positively beamed at him before kissing his head. “You'll do brilliantly, Spock. Like you always do.”

Spock blushed green, but preened under his mother’s attention.

“Why do they make fun of me, Spock?” Spock closed his book with a snap.

“Who makes fun of you?”

“My classmates, the neighbors, practically everyone that I pass in the hall.”

Spock looked pensive for a moment before simply saying, “I see.” And returning to his book, trying to play it off as if it was a trivial matter. Darda knew him better than that.

“I don't need any help,” His sister was quick to deny, and continued before he could respond. “I just don't understand.”

Darda had this annoying tendency to try and understand everything. Despite the irrationality of this, Spock found affection for his little sister in her passion. But this was matter he found need to discourage her from, because of her almost naïve, kind hearted nature. So he gave her a rare smile, one that spoke of bitterness and affection, before telling her the honest truth.

“And you never will, ko-kai.”

Her face started to crumble so he inquired about her studies, which she could prattle on about for days. As her mood soared with each detail, Spock felt a glimmer of satisfaction in the back of his mind that he would not acknowledge. Like his father had told him to do, Spock was protecting his sister in the only way he knew how. Never mind that he had the same doubts and questions, he was able to help her forget, even if just for a moment.

Spock had come to the conclusion quite a long time ago that though he could logically understand other Vulcans’ disdain for them as half-breeds, he would never quite be able to grasp the why involved. But some mysteries are meant to remain unsolved, Spock reasoned as Darda started talking about her recent lessons in history, this must be one of them.

“How big do you think Starfleet is? Is it bigger than the Academy?”

“Guessing is not productive,” Spock remarked without inflection, scrolling through the book he was reading. “You possess a data pad. It is within your reach.”

“Guessing is a game, kaisu. It's not meant to be productive, it's meant to be fun.”

“Regardless, it ceases to be a game when you already know the answer.”

Darda had done well in her studies, advancing beyond what anyone on Vulcan had predicted for her. She bypassed the Academy in favor of a school that would better help her attain the qualifications needed for her chosen field. Darda wanted to be an architect of all things. Inspired by the history books of Earth and the current marvels of Vulcan, she was already rising through the ranks due to her unique insight. There were not a great many things in which her knowledge surpassed the men in her family, but she was determined that this would be one of them. Whenever a single building was mentioned in a conversation, Darda most likely knew the exact dimensions and structural problems from her research. Starfleet had been no exception.

“Did you know,” Darda began speculatively. “That the Golden Gate Bridge has only a small portion of its original self still intact? When they set out to preserve it, they found so many of the original materials outdated or dangerous that they couldn't rationalize building it the same way. The original portion in no way helps the structural integrity and is held aside from visitors.”

“Fascinating.”

“I thought so.” They were both quiet for a moment, content in the silence before Spock glanced up from his book at the time and saw that he would need to leave now if he wanted to arrive home with enough time to check his bags before sleeping.

“I must leave to pack the rest of my belongings.” Spock started to collect his things and didn't see the heartbroken and slightly panicked expression on Darda’s face.

As Spock turned to leave, he heard her soft voice.

“I will miss you, you are aware.”

He turned back and allowed their eyes to meet, hers glassy and his a tad soft.

“I am.”

They both paused for a moment, the realization that this would be their last, real moment together a sobering one. He would be leaving Vulcan, leaving her the next day. Tomorrow would be spent around others and they would have to maintain the formalities expected of them, unable to give a last parting word without justifying the Council’s words. This was it for them, until they could meet again in the future. Due to their different life choices, that could be years.

Spock lifted his hand in the customary goodbye.

“Live long and prosper, ko-kai.”

Her lips wobbled into a smile as she raised her own hand.

“Live long and prosper.”

“You never loved her!”

Days after the dust had settled and hours after the most pressing meetings had been attended to, Spock sat in his room, a data pad on the table beside him and James Kirk’s words ringing in the air.

The doors slid open with a near silent whir, and Lieutenant Uhura stepped inside. She didn't say anything, just came and sat beside him. She saw the data pad lying on the table and wordlessly, Spock handed it to her.

Lieut- Nyota scrolled through the article.

“Did she build this?”

A nod.

She smiled, looking back down at the picture shown of a gorgeous cathedral. “It's beautiful.” She admitted. It was made to liken one of the older Roman cathedrals, but with better materials and a more practical layout. It was quite impressive, especially for her first project, not to mention -

“It's mediocre.”

Nyota started at his break from silence and his harsh words. She looked up at her love to explain. He didn't look at her but sighed as he stared off at some unseeing tragedy.

“She had so much more she wanted to do. Grand monuments, sprawling cities, ingenuous irrigation methods…” Spock trailed off before he spoke again, frustration coloring his words. “It's an insult that this was the only thing that came to pass. A waste.”

Nyota stared in disbelief at the irrational rational she had just been witness to. Spock was hurting, but his attempts to distance himself and by proxy belittle his sister’s life’s work enraged her. Instead of saying this, she was quiet for a moment before putting the pad in his lap, the picture of the church still enlarged.

“Can you really look at this and tell me that?” She pointed harshly at the work, hoping to draw Spock from his stupor. “From what you told me, she was dedicated but never did anything without truly meaning it. So logically, she couldn’t believe it to be a waste, otherwise it never would’ve been made. Your sister made this, Spock. Take time to appreciate it.”

She left him at that, to contemplate her simple words and hopefully find some closure. He did think about what she said, but he couldn't justify the beauty that was this church for the brilliance that was his sister. He had always held Darda in high esteem, sure of her as he was of anything. Darda was going to help so many in this universe, of that he had never a doubt.

But now she was gone and he just couldn't understand how this church could still stand with her absence.

Spock knew contacting his elder self wasn't a very thought out or pragmatic plan. But he wanted to know how Darda’s life would've played out without the destruction of Vulcan. Without the attack that he indirectly caused.

But when her name was brought into discussion, his alternate self could only stare in confusion.

It had never occurred to Spock that, in an alternate reality, his parents only miracle was him. In the original timeline, Amanda and Sarek never produced another child, but were quite happy with Spock as their only child together. Amanda died old, Sarek remarried, and the only ‘Darda’ Spock knew of was from Earth’s Bible.

The anniversary of his planet’s destruction was a rather somber affair. The captain had made arrangements for them to travel to New Vulcan, but a few violent Klingons delayed their trip.

So instead, they were having a small memorial on the ship. The mess hall had a shrine of sorts with pictures of loved ones messily taped on along with the new flag hung in the background.

Spock, having a year to think about it, put her cathedral there alongside a picture of his mother.

Kirk sidled up next to him.

“Who’s the church for?”

Kirk didn't mean it as an insult, but it smarted somewhat that hers wasn't a work so easily recognized. Instead of snapping with his newfound temper, Spock reflected on what the photo represented, especially to him.

“A remarkable woman.” Kirk looked at him in surprise, not expecting him to answer and unsure of the connection she could have with the Vulcan. “If you would excuse me, Captain.”

As Spock left, James realized that he hadn't really answered his question. But looking at the worn photo of a hauntingly beautiful cathedral hanging next to the pristine portrait of Spock’s mother, Kirk decided it was better not to ask.

Translations: ko-kai - sister kaisu - sibling

#star trek #oneshot #one-shot #one shot #fanfic #fanfiction #spock #star trek 2009 #reboot #james kirk #original character #oc #original female character #spock sister #sister

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shepgeek · 5 years

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To Boldly Go

When the great film trilogies are listed, the back-to-back run of Wrath of Khan, The Search for Spock and The Voyage Home are rarely mentioned. For starters any franchise from the 1980s, where roman numerals were thrown about merrily, will bear suspicion of artistic scepticism. Indeed, it wasn’t until JJ Abrams’ reboot that the idea would even be considered that any film from this franchise might be taken seriously as a piece of cinema rather than a routine trip for Paramount to milk their cash cow. Star Trek was considered niche entertainment for nerds with occasional nostalgic crossover appeal; something to be acknowledged as popular to a degree but rarely held up as anything like the best of what the medium has to offer. In these three films, however, there can be found huge creativity, bold authorial choices, and a keen sense of storytelling momentum based around a compelling and hugely resonant central theme. Within the genre, the films could hardly be more different from each other: Wrath of Khan is a peerless adventure, blending themes of obsession and revenge with adventure and duty, heavily inspired by the swashbuckling tales of 18th century naval adventures. The Voyage Home, on the other hand, is a prime example of the 1980s fish-out-of-water comedy subgenre. Bridging them is the film considered the least of the three but, whilst it is perhaps the most conservative in terms of scale, the propensity for The Search for Spock to be dismissed as “an odd numbered one” masks the moments where it comprehensively masters what the entire franchise was all about. With its operatic brio and earnest embrace of famous science fiction tropes, director Leonard Nimoy’s The Search for Spock is an underrated film in an underrated trilogy and, 35 years on, hiding within it is a 20-minute sequence which, for this writer, remains the defining moment within the entire franchise.

Within the film it is quickly established that the crew have a chance to do right by their fallen comrade, but have been ordered in no uncertain terms to keep away from his resting place. For Kirk, permission is not a luxury he has ever particularly sought and, from the moment he growls “The word is no: I am therefore going anyway”, the film releases the melancholy of its mournful opening act. Sporting a magnificently implausible leather collar, not enough is made of just how good Shatner is in these films. His impudent charisma led us to genuine heartbreak in the previous chapter and he sustains Kirk’s unimpeachable authority with effortless ease. We can see our hero struggling, failing, learning but never yielding, but to see his plan through he needs his crew, leading to why the scene that follows soars: it is the definitive instance of the Enterprise crew working as one. The dramatic stakes are unusually low in this film: there is no universe to save this time, just one man. The gentle inversion of Spock’s “needs of the many” axiom is honest and maybe a little unsubtle but certainly compelling, and a theme throughout the film of what we do for those who matter the most to us is precisely what elevates this franchise above its peers. Those who dismiss Star Trek as frivolous miss this central pull: each crew is always based around this core camaraderie, an ensemble of characters whose loyalty inspires. The Search for Spock is dramatically least compelling of the trilogy but emotionally the most resonant.

The crew plot to steal back their battered starship in what becomes, atypically for the franchise, a set piece. This segment has the feel of a caper to it and eschews visual fireworks for a steady and patient escalation of the stakes and an intensifying focus on the faces of the actors to build the drama: we know what this crew is risking here and we become desperate for them to succeed. On paper what follows is simply some light levels of banter, a few sweaty brows and the Enterprise reversing out of a garage and yet it is imbued with such an epic scale for these characters that it swells the heart. The heist itself has a giddy sense of fun to it, of propulsive excitement: composer James Horner uses an eclectic percussive string instrument (a cimbalom) to set this feeling, but it builds slowly and steadily. The choice to gradually intensify the scope throughout a longer set piece was not out of character for the time and, one suspects, borne from budgetary restrictions, but certainly it would be unimaginable to find such patience in a modern blockbuster, and even the most recent and honest tribute Star Trek Beyond overflows with startling visuals during its own action beats.

The pace of the escape is determined in part by the choices made by previous directors Robert Wise and Nicholas Meyer, as Trek had already decided that, instead of the buzzing, kinetic spitfire battles of the Star Wars films, these ships of the line would be enormous stately galleons. Harder to manoeuvre, they add an epic scale to even the smallest of lines: “One quarter impulse power” is followed soon after by an “Aye Sir”: this is, after all, the finest crew in the fleet. There are other advantages as ILM’s gorgeous models have aged exceptionally well, bringing a physicality that later CGI struggles to recapture, whilst the elegant iconography of the famous ship is amplified by Nimoy’s of framing it from differing scales.

As the heist develops it allows the crew to quietly shine. Long reconciled to be left supporting the core leads from the side-lines, Nimoy recognised that the whole film would greatly benefit from using his castmates to add shading around the edges, and he spends snippets of time on the Enterprise crew, implying in his director commentary that he had to defend this choice, one assumes, to Shatner. Whilst Kirk remains his old gung-ho self (only a single punch of a security guard is needed) Nimoy gives Sulu, donning what appears to be a cape, a moment of nonchalant badassery, notably showing us Kirk’s reaction of impressed surprise. The message is simple- nobody messes with our heroes and McCoy repeats this to Uhura in a similarly authoritative beat moments later. The caper crackles with its own history and our heroes (and the script) are visibly enjoying themselves here: McCoy’s smile as his friends break him from his jail is magical, whilst the dialogue is peppered with jokes and callbacks to the Kobayashi Maru, or Spock’s revenge on McCoy “for all those arguments he lost”. The final flourish is the addition of an antagonist: the film sets up the USS Excelsior as a new and improved Federation prototype (an idea which is immediately offensive) and their priggish, pompous captain is instantly hissable. Nimoy knew better than anyone that TV sets were awash with talented actors who had more depth to be exploited, casting Taxi’s Christopher Lloyd as his villain and using Hillstreet Blues actor James Sikking here. Sikking does an incredible job with a small part, immediately making Captain Styles a startlingly slappable presence. After being bruisingly insensitive to Scotty (writer Harve Bennet’s lists Scotty’s reply as his favourite line in the film), when we see Styles aboard his titanic ship he is blithely filing his nails and taking a no-look grab of what appears to be a redundant space cane. Styles is not the only example of how the storytelling detail and colour in this section, with a janitor looking on agog as the Enterprise makes her exit, building a sense of scale, opportunistic adventure and disbelief that Kirk, the Federation’s greatest hero, was going rogue. Styles’ final decision, calling out Kirk (by name, not rank) gives the scene’s final punchline a pleasing rush of schadenfreude.

The final ingredient to this section cannot be overestimated as James Horner’s score develops cues from his Wrath of Khan score (namely Battle in Mutara Nebula & Genesis Countdown- two of the finest cues in 20th century film composition) to lend colossal weight to the enormity of these actions for our heroes. A 91-piece orchestra escalates his two primary themes to a gloriously triumphant conclusion, as Horner deploys the French horns blasting at the limits of their range, a joyous trademark of that composer and an enormous final flourish as the Enterprise finally clears her docks.

Throughout this short set piece, we see Star Trek in a perfect microcosm. Everything that it remains most loved for is perfectly conveyed in this sequence by the script, the direction, the performances, the editing and the composition via an emotional core of considerable heft. When Kirk smiles to say “May the wind be at our backs” and Alexander Courage’s famous fanfare salutes them back, the loyalty and camaraderie of this family is cemented.

It ends as Kirk takes his Captain’s chair; unwavering, resolute and with his crew at his back as the bridge lighting shifts, purposefully.

“Aye Sir.

Warp Speed.”

#startrek

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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From Dog Soldiers to The Reckoning: Neil Marshall Revisits His Filmogrpahy

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Ever since launching his career in 2002 with the independent action-horror thriller, Dog Soldiers—a bracing, fresh werewolves-vs.-soldiers exercise—the writer and director Neil Marshall has been devoted to genre filmmaking. His second film, The Descent, is a generally acknowledged modern horror classic, and since then he’s branched out to post-apocalyptic action, historical thrillers and high fantasy before returning again to horror.

His sixth and latest film, The Reckoning, stars Charlotte Kirk (who co-wrote the script) as a young woman who is accused of witchcraft in northern England in 1665 after losing her husband to the Great Plague. With its period setting and story of unjust persecution and hysteria directed against women in particular, The Reckoning (which just premiered on Shudder) channels some of the old Hammer Studios vibe, as well as that of iconic British films on the same topic like Witchfinder General.

For Marshall, The Reckoning represents a return to the genre that gave him his start and to his early independent days, following 2019’s poorly received reboot of the horror-themed Hellboy franchise. The latter film was his first feature in nine years, during which time he directed episodes of high-profile TV shows like Westworld, Hannibal and most notably Game of Thrones while trying to get various theatrical projects off the ground.

With The Reckoning now making its premiere on Shudder, Marshall is already at work on his next film, a horror outing called The Lair. He says it’s “a bit different from The Reckoning… it’s going to be full-on action, monsters, guns, explosions, the works, blood and guts.” With Marshall now seemingly back on track with feature films, we thought this would be a good moment to take a look back at his career to date.

The Beginning

Marshall was born in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, England, and he says that he was inspired to become a filmmaker when he saw Raiders of the Lost Ark for the first time in his youth:

“I’m definitely a product of the nerd generation of the ’80s, and proud of it,” he confirms. “Raiders is the movie that got me into making movies. I was already a big movie fan, just like anybody. But when I saw Raiders, it just changed everything, as did watching The Making of Raiders of the Lost Ark on TV. I just thought, ‘That’s what I want to do with my life,’ and never looked back.”

Interestingly, Marshall says that his one unrealized dream project to date harkens back to the impact that Raiders had on him:

“There’s one in particular, a project called Eagle’s Nest…I always wanted to do my Indiana Jones project, my Raiders kind of project, and Eagle’s Nest is very much in that vein. It’s set during World War II, but it’s not a war movie as such. It’s an adventure/action movie. It’s kind of like Die Hard meets Where Eagles Dare, or Indiana Jones meets James Bond. Spies and soldiers and things. It’s full-on action adventure. That’s my dream project, and I still dream of one day getting it made.”

Pathe

Dog Soldiers (2002)

After attending university, Marshall spent a number of years as a freelance film editor before finally getting the chance to direct his first feature film, Dog Soldiers, from an original screenplay he had written. The taut, low-budget thriller revolved around a squad of British soldiers who are attacked in a remote house by a pack of werewolves. For Marshall, it was his chance at last to pursue his dream of making films.

“It was a six-year process of getting it written and getting it financed and getting it made, and it was just stubborn determination,” the director says. “But finally getting there and finally getting on set was just amazing, so satisfying. It was finally achieving a dream that I set about 20 years earlier, really.”

On whether anything surprised him about his first time as a feature director, he adds, “Well, I had directed stuff before. I’d done some short films and some TV things. This was my first feature, but it wasn’t completely new to me. But I was so well-read at the time. I’d spent my teenage years reading nothing but Starlog and Fantastic Films, and all that kind of stuff and learning how these things work. So it wasn’t a complete surprise. I think the main thing was, is just how exciting it all was.”

Werewolves, which were the film’s monsters, hadn’t been seen on the screen in a while at that time. Marshall suspected this would make the film a refreshing change of pace.

“I didn’t want to do the classic Curse of the Werewolf story, which is essentially what all werewolf films had been up until that point,” says Marshall. “I wanted to do essentially Aliens with werewolves, in which they’re just a ferocious enemy and really difficult to kill, and who they are as people is irrelevant.”

Pathe

The Descent (2005)

Next was Marshall’s 2005 film The Descent, in which six women go exploring in a cave system and discover that the tunnels are inhabited by cannibalistic humanoid creatures. A staple of “best horror of the 2000s” lists ever since its release, The Descent was not only genuinely terrifying but groundbreaking in its use of an all-female cast, which was originally not the case.

“I think when I wrote the first draft of it, it was mixed,” Marshall recalls. “When I pitched the treatment, I think then it was a mixed group. I’d done such a testosterone group of men or whatever with Dog Soldiers, part of me was like, ‘Well, let’s just do the complete opposite of that.’

“Then the more research I did into the world of caving and climbing and outdoor sports, it turns out, it’s a really heavily populated by women, and they do everything that the men do. So I just kind of figured, well, why not? Why not have an all-female group? It makes it very different. It made it different from anything that I’d seen for a while, and it came about that way.”

On the inspiration for the horrifying creatures in the caves, called “crawlers?”

“The creatures just came from trying to pare things down to a very, very basic form. I had great difficulty with the werewolves on Dog Soldiers. The guys in the suits, they couldn’t see very well. They were on stilts, so they were really limited in how they could move. Even for a practical effect, they couldn’t move around that well. I wanted to dispense with all that and have the crawlers be as freeform as possible.

“The whole point of the crawlers was that they were meant to be humans who evolved to live in caves,” he continues. “They’re the caveman that stayed in the cave. Whereas the rest of us left and evolved, they stayed in the caves and devolved to live in darkness. They were always essentially going to be human, so that really just required some basic prosthetics. But beyond that, they would just be people. That gave me so much more freedom of movement and allowed them to be fast and agile.”

Universal

Doomsday (2008)

The Descent was a critical and financial success, earning some $57 million on a budget of less than $5 million. It opened the doors for Marshall to begin entertaining offers to direct bigger films, and soon Rogue Pictures (a division of Universal) gave the director a budget of more than $24 million to make Doomsday, his homage to post-apocalyptic action movies of the ‘70s and ‘80s in which Scotland is sealed off due to a deadly virus.

“Doomsday touches upon two things that have cropped up in later work,” Marshall says. “One was the building of a wall to separate two countries, particularly England and Scotland. And then the other one is a viral outbreak, which comes into play in The Reckoning, as well. And the wall reappears in Centurion. It also, I guess, figured in my Game of Thrones episode.”

On the eerie relevancy of doing a movie about a country sealed off because of a viral outbreak, he says, “It was very strange that end of last year, I think it was, when the second wave [of COVID-19] hit, that they closed off the border between England and Scotland. I just thought, ‘This is Doomsday. It’s happening right now. Only a matter of time before they build a wall.’ But yeah, it has been quite scary, especially with The Reckoning, as well. Who could have seen it coming, you know?”

Doomsday was also the first time Marshall had major Hollywood studio resources to work with, which made it a strikingly different experience.

“It was great having much better resources to do a lot more crashes and explosions and things like that. It was a big action movie, it required all those bells and whistles, and we got them all, so that was fantastic… We had more time to shoot it, which was great. I loved that. Because we were filming it down in Cape Town, in South Africa, we didn’t really have the studio on our backs at all. We were let loose to do it. It was one of the most fun experiences I’ve had making a movie.”

Magnet Releasing

Centurion (2010)

For his next film, Marshall turned to the early history of Britain and its resistance to the Roman Empire for inspiration. The result was Centurion, which starred Michael Fassbender, Dominic West and Olga Kurylenko in a violent tale based on the legendary disappearance of the Roman Empire’s Ninth Spanish Legion in what is now northern England and Scotland in the second century. A.D.

“It’s very loosely based,” Marshall explains. “It’s based more on a legend than the history. The history unfortunately disproved the legend. It’s a classic example of the quote, ‘When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.’ The facts aren’t very interesting, but that’s historians doing their thing. Until then, it was a legend that I really liked, the legend of the 9th Legion that marched into Scotland and disappeared without a trace.”

Even though historians have since argued that the Legion wasn’t wiped out in battle with northern England or Pictish tribes as long believed, Marshall was still fascinated with the story:

“My whole kind of thing was, ‘Well, why and how? If it disappeared, how did they disappear? Did none of them survive? If no one survived, how do we even know about it?’ So that’s when I came up with the story of the lone survivor and trying to explain it in logical terms. Nothing supernatural or anything of that, but logical terms of how they were massacred and why.”

As with several others of his films, Marshall also saw contemporary reflections in the story.

“When we were making it, it seemed very relevant to what was going on in Iraq and Afghanistan, with the insurgents fighting the oppressors. Telling the story from the Romans’ point of view made it a bit more interesting, because they were the invading army and the other side were freedom fighters. Because we were telling the Romans point of view, it was kind of like, ‘Well, they’re our heroes—but are they?’ I just thought that was really, really interesting.”

Lionsgate

Hellboy (2019)

Hellboy, which was not a sequel to the two films made by Guillermo del Toro and which starred Ron Perlman, featured David Harbour as the title demon from Mike Mignola’s long-running comics. Marshall’s first feature in nine years landed with a loud thud both at the box office and with critics.

“It was one of those things,” the director says now. “The reason I was away from features for nine years was not out of choice. I was trying to get my features made during that time. But because of the revolution in television, there was a certain kind of budget level that I had been working in that disappeared from features and was now going into television, during a transition period of the last 10, 15 years. And I couldn’t find anybody to finance films at that kind of level.”

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Marshall says that when he was initially approached about Hellboy, the idea was to create more of a straight forward horror movie version of the character:

“That appealed to me, and obviously getting a chance to do a feature was a big thing. Despite my reservations or whatever, I jumped at it, because it was a chance to do a feature after nine years. I wanted to get back in the game. But I made an unwise decision, because I should have based my choice purely on whether the script was any good. Unfortunately, the script was never any good, and there’s only so much a director can do.”

Marshall notes that the problems with the Hellboy script arose from confusion over what kind of film it was supposed to be.

“I’ve said it a few times before, you can’t polish a turd. Even the best director in the world can’t make a masterpiece out of a script that was substandard. This was a confused script from the start, combining different stories and sticking rigidly to the comics, which worked fine as graphic novels. But when you translate them to the screen, there are gaping plot holes.

“Unfortunately, the producers just didn’t care. They brought me in so they could tell me what to do. They didn’t really want to make a horror version of it at all, because I was the most experienced horror person involved in the entire production, and I wasn’t allowed to touch the script. I wasn’t allowed to bring any kind of horror essence to it. So it just ended up as a disaster, really. It was just a mess, and a deeply unpleasant experience. That’s the price that I paid for making the wrong choice, or making it for the wrong reasons specifically.”

Shudder

The Reckoning (2021)

Going back to his roots with The Reckoning was a “breath of fresh air” after Hellboy, Marshall says in 2021.

“It was the complete opposite,” he explains. “On Hellboy, I had lots of money and no creative input. On this one, I had full creative control over the piece and no money. But that was a good sacrifice to make because the experience of making The Reckoning—even though we had less money, less time, whatever—was just creatively way more satisfying. It was good to just get back to my roots and get stuck in there and make this little movie that I’m really proud of.”

The director says that he wanted to capture the tone of some of the iconic Hammer horrors from the ‘60s and ‘70s with The Reckoning while the subject matter touched on themes expressed in horror classics like Witchfinder General or Mark of the Devil.

“I felt that there hadn’t really been anything made in that particular period or about that kind of subject matter, the witch hunter in particular,” says Marshall. “There have been witch movies obviously, but not the witch hunter. That kind of vibe, and that Hammer kind of vibe as well, hadn’t been done for a while. But the reason to do it at all was because I felt that it was relevant today for a modern audience… witch hunts are still going on today. They just take on a different form. And certainly, misogyny and female persecution has not gone anywhere in the intervening hundreds of years since our story took place.”

Marshall also notes that he missed being part of the horror film festival circuit, a thriving subculture in its own right.

“I actually wanted to get back on the horror circuit, as far as the festival circuit is concerned, because I loved that experience with my first movie,” he explains. “Going around the world, going to these incredible festivals, meeting the fans, engaging with the fans and also meeting other filmmakers. It’s so inspiring doing that. That was my hope with The Reckoning, but of course, all that went out the window with COVID. But fingers crossed, we’ll be back full strength and next year will be great.”

The Reckoning is currently streaming on Shudder.

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