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#lurking-latinist
wellntruly · 2 months
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Hello, love that you have a whole tag for #men in statement scarves. Are you aware of this Guardian article entirely about ex-Doctor Who Sylvester McCoy (everyone's adorable Scottish grandpa) in extremely large scarves? It is at https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2019/oct/05/mens-fashion-long-scarves-doctor-who-sylvester-mccoy-tim-dowling. The scarves are massive and he is tiny.
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"The scarves are massive
and he is tiny"
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misscrazyfangirl321 · 11 months
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android is also the local tech expert, so when they start to malfunction they have to talk their human friends through how to repair them, even though the procedure is painful?
OOOOO
"There's a panel-" Speech. Talking. Unexpectedly difficult. Something is wrong. Wrong. Malfunctioned. Glitching. "On my back. On the left side." Left? Process. Repeat. Clarify. "Right side."
"Listen, I don't know about this." Scared. The human is scared. (So am I. Another glitch. Another malfunction. Another failing.) "Maybe we should wait until Frankie gets back."
Frankie Hills. Mechanic. Fifteen. Expert. This human is not an expert. He's new; his name isn't in my database yet. But he's not a mechanic. I know that; he told me. "No time. Glitching. Crashing. Odds of successful repair... Dropping."
This doesn't make him calmer. His hands are shaking, which is bad. Wrong. He's glitching. (But humans don't glitch. They just exist. Why can't I just exist?) I search my database, ignoring the strain on my processor. If I'm not careful, I'll overheat, but he'll never get anywhere without my help.
Comfort words. Excellent. "It will be-be okay." Repeating. Echoing. I'm overloading my system. Audio quality is suffering. "I believe in you."
An odd thing: belief. I don't know what it means. But I know I'm broken, and he's the only one who can fix me. I need him to fix me, before it's too late.
In any case, the words seem to assure him. His features shift. Change. The word comes to my processing center unbidden: Soften. He relaxes, and clears his throat. "Left panel?"
"Right." Then, when he starts to reach, I clarify, "Right panel. Right side. Not correct. Right."
This gives him pause, but only briefly. Then he reaches again, this time for the right (right, correct, direction) panel. When he twists the screwdriver, my sensors burn in protest, and I cannot stop a noise from slipping out. Unfortunate; it frightens him.
"Did I hurt you?"
Hurt: to cause pain. My sensors are not for pain; they serve as alarms for things that pose a threat. They tell me if things are too hot, too cold, subject to cause harm to my hardware or programming. It sends a warning through my wires; I find it unpleasant, but that does not make it pain.
My processor is too close to overheating; I cannot explain all of this. "Yes." It falls within the parameters of truth the Organization has defined for me. "Remove the panel."
"But if it's going to hurt you-"
"It must be removed. There is no other way to repair me."
He makes a noise of his own: a groan, a human sound for pain. But why is he in pain? He isn't; he hurts for me. Hurts because I suffer. Still, though, he sets to work, removing the panel. This time, when noises escape, he does not falter.
"Now what?"
"There are two wires: red and green."
"You have a lot more wires than that back here."
His voice has changed. Taken on a sound: a drawl. So this is sarcasm, then. A human attempt at humor, to make me feel more relaxed (or perhaps, to make him feel more relaxed).
"Those do not matter. Find the red and green wires."
He makes another noise, similar to the grunt, but lighter. Louder. I identify it as laughter; he thinks I've made a joke in turn. Very well.
"Okay, got 'em. What do I do?"
This will be unpleasant. I know this. These wires are not meant to be exposed, so they're connected to powerful sensors. When he does what he must, it will overwhelm my system. But it has to happen.
"Wait until I finish speaking. Disconnect both wires, and insert the yellow drive on the table into the slot behind those wires. Then, reconnect the wires. Make sure you do not cross them."
He waits five seconds-I count-to ensure that I'm done talking. I've encountered droids far less compliant than him. Then, he asks, "What happens if I cross the wires?"
The sensation I experience isn't truly fear; it's simply programming, a jolt of warning, an attempt to preserve data. I'm more useful when I have all of my data, after all. Still, I sound unsteady even to myself when I reply, "System reboot."
Wiping me. Erasing me forever. I would still be here, but not here. Not me. Something else. Someone else. But me. I don't want to think about this; it will definitely overwhelm my processors.
"I'm done speaking," I inform him, because he still hasn't continued the procedure.
"Right, just, uh... Brace yourself." There is nothing to brace myself against; there is nothing to prepare me for this.
"I will not be able to guide you any longer," I warn, and he hesitates. Humans have something called intuition, and I suspect right now that his is activating, inferring from the data I've provided that this will not be a good experience for me. It will, however, be a necessary one.
He knows. Clears his throat. "Okay. Here goes nothing."
A strange thing, something humans often say before things which are most definitely not nothing. A human contradiction; they have many.
Then, all programs running in my mind cease, replaced only with sensor alerts, warnings, jolts- (it hurts-)
Processing fails.
-
I've been recharged. It isn't truly waking up, but that's what humans call it, when I shift from powered down to powered up. All of my sensors are operating at normal levels, not detecting any negative input.
And all of my data is in-tact.
The man is sitting by my charging stall, watching me with an odd look on his face. I run it through my processors (running smoothly now, easily able to take in the new information): It is exhaustion. While I have been recharging, he has not done the same. Curious.
"You require sleep. My calculations indicate that your performance will be diminished by more than-"
"You're okay!" He interrupts me, and-as per my programming-I cease imparting information. Then he stands, reaching over and wrapping his arms around me.
A hug; I don't need to check my database for that. I've observed it before, frequently. It's strange, finally experiencing it. My sensors exist for detecting threats, but the pressure is too light to register as a threat. It does register, though; awareness without warning. It's... Not unpleasant.
"You performed the procedure adequately," I inform him, because my records indicate that moments of embracing call for phrases of sentiment.
He laughs, again. That's not the correct response to sentiment; maybe I didn't do it right. But he hugs me again-more tightly, but still not tight enough to send a warning-before releasing me.
"Thanks for talking me through it," he says.
Odd, to thank me for something that benefitted me more than him. Programming and experience both tell me, however, that there is only one response he's seeking.
"You're welcome."
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I’m a time traveler and I’m lost! Please help me! What is the current year?
No! I don't know!!!
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thisbluespirit · 7 months
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For the Fanfic kiss meme, for @lurking-latinist - who asked for Seven/Romana + 20 (on a scar), but unfortunately while I am for the most part happy to go along with a bit of Doctor/Romana on demand, for some reason this is any Doctor/Romana except Five or Seven, who are NOTPS. (THis is totally illogical! idk. it just is.)
Have some Six/Romana, with thoughts of The Apocalypse Element in mind to make up for it, for the same prompt:
***
The story of what the Daleks had done to her was written on her hands.  Elsewhere, too, he imagined, his face darkening.  He did not let her withdraw his fingers from his.  He lowered his head and kissed them.
“Really, Doctor,” she said, her head leant a little to one side.  She’s still the same as ever to him, even if her voice has gained a wry, weathered tone, and her face a few lines from time as well as the Daleks.  “You seem to be getting terribly romantic in your old age.”
“Perhaps one of us has to.”
She gave a small smile.  “Oh, Doctor.  As if you don’t get tortured every other Wednesday.”
“That’s not the same!”
Romana turned his hand over and traced a finger across its tell tale marks: a burn here, a cut there.  “Isn’t it?”
“Not the every other Wednesday kind, no.  What you went through –”
“I’d rather you didn’t mention it.”  For one moment her hand quivered in his.  She raised her head.  “Better not, I think.  Don’t you?”
She kissed his palm.
“Oh?”  He arched an eyebrow.  “Who’s being romantic now?”
She laughed.  “Well, it is good to see you again, Doctor.”
Send me a ship + a kiss here!
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theladyjojogrant · 5 months
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Hey, do you have a sense of where in the Doctor's timeline the Audacity stories fall? Are they pre-Divergent Universe? (I haven't heard them yet but I am curious)
Yes, they’re pre-Divergent Universe! They fall somewhere in the early Charley days; I’m not sure if Big Finish has said anything official about exactly when, but I’ve seen some people place the Audacity sets right after The Further Adventuress stories, which again are early in Eight’s travels with Charley (and this makes sense to me so far, although I’m listening to the second Audacity set currently and haven’t heard the first). I’d say they definitely take place before The Chimes of Midnight because there’s a shift in Eight and Charley’s relationship/travels there that you definitely don’t get in these stories.
It’s possible there could be more context in the first Audacity boxset, but from what I’ve gathered, this seems to be what everyone’s agreed upon. (I actually did some research on this yesterday because I was mildly confused about the timeline when I started In the Bleak Midwinter lol)
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fictionadventurer · 2 years
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something you like about each season of the year?
Spring: Watching the leaves on the trees develop from the first sprays of light green into full-grown leaves, and all the blossoming trees blooming beside them.
Summer: The abundance of fresh produce. Raspberries, sweet peas and red potatoes, my beloved.
Fall: The leaves, of course, but everyone says that, so in the interests of saying something different, I want to mention that milkweed is a highly underrated plant. The pods that crack open and dry out and display a trove of the softest white fluff that blows away so beautifully at the slightest puff of breath. The satisfyingly slim little brown seeds that feel so good in your hand. The way the milk seeps out at all the veins of a torn leaf. One of the most satisfying plants to fiddle with.
Winter: There is nothing in the world like the peace one feels standing outside in the crisp, cold air while the full moon on the fallen snow makes the world bright as midday and the stars above shine so crisp and clear they take your breath away.
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@thisbluespirit is fond of Five/Tegan, you might enjoy having a look through her AO3!
oh NOOO I've been FOUND OUT my fic-reading habits have been broadcast to the world DSKJFHSKDJFHKDSJHFKJSDHFKJHSDKJFHSKJDHF THIS IS AN ATTACK
(actually I'm just being silly and DramaticTM, this is totally fine and I very much appreciate the tip!! if I had actually wanted people not to know, I would’ve sent the ask as an anon. I just saw this pop up in my askbox last night and almost *lost it* cackling bc I didn't expect it at all kdsfjhskdjfh 😂😂 but as I saw someone else mention on a reblog of a post about this very pairing, sometimes you see a pairing and you just can't help but go "oh. That's actually compelling. let's explore what could potentially happen here for a bit.")
and I went and glanced through her AO3 last night before I went to sleep and found at least one really promising fic there!! so thank you so much for the suggestion, Aurelia!! :D
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buzzfeed-unbound · 9 months
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this is not related to believerindaydreams’ original post so I didn’t want to clutter up the post with it, but if you want to talk about making Enemy of the World work: I believe that the year 2018 depicted in Enemy of the World is (without the Doctor’s knowledge) a CIA training simulation, a sort of Gallifreyan Kobayashi Maru. Look at Astrid’s outfit, very CIA; she’s the examiner. Explains the exact duplicate also (although not the 50000 other exact duplicates in the DWU). I put this into a fic called “the nicest possible person” on ao3 but that is the gist of my theory :)
Interesting! That's a surprisingly neat and robust theory. I'll have to check out the fic, thanks!
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isfjmel-phleg · 1 year
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4, 9, 10?
A lesser-known book by an author who's famous for other books.
Sky Island by L. Frank Baum, who is best known for The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and its sequels. At one point, Baum tried to end the Oz series and start another fantasy series. Sky Island is the second installment of this attempt, which ended with the characters from the new series getting transplanted into Oz. Even if it apparently didn't go over well with Baum's audience, it's a lovely fantasy in its own right. I especially love the opening chapter, which is a character-establishing conversation between the heroine and a boy who mysteriously arrived in her town.
A book that has been translated from another language.
I don't read a lot of translated books! (Though I should.) Let's see...maybe Detectives in Togas by Henry Winterfield (and its sequel Mystery of the Roman Ransom), translated from the German. They're light-hearted adventures of children in ancient Rome and pretty fun reads. There's a third book that never got translated, more's the pity.
Also, the translators robbed us of the original title of the first book, which was Caius ist ein Dummkopf. You can't get a better title than that.
An obscure nonfiction book.
I read From Cradle to Crown: British Nannies and Governesses at the World's Royal Courts by Charlotte Zeepvat for worldbuilding research for my stories and enjoyed it a lot more than I expected. It was an atypical perspective of history.
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i-am-become-a-name · 1 year
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I want to know about tenses please!! also seven tegan
okay, so tenses was lurking in my desktop writing folder and I haven't opened it in yonks (18/5/2020, to be exact): what it is appears to be a list of, well, tenses, in French.
le conditionnel passe (the past conditional – used to express an action or event that would have occurred if some set of conditions, stated or implied, had been present – (j’aurais aimé – I would have loved (them had I known))
le futur antérieur (the future perfect – used to express a future action that will have already taken place when another future action occurs - (j’aurai aimeé – I will love them (once something has happened))
If I'm remembering somewhat correctly, this was going to be a jumpy around Time War fic, possibly about Fitz and Eight? Maybe I'll finally write about the Gally Four, but shout out to 2020 for thinking I'd remember exactly. xD
-
As for seven tegan well..... it's semi related to a comment in A Death in the Family about the Doctor's calendar, and more specifically to the audio Afterlife.
I think she'd baulk at five coming back for her end implied by the Gathering. She'd send away Michael, and if five came back, she'd send him away too. But she deserves someone to hold her hand, but I think she shouldn't know who it is. ��� "And, the only thing she truly wanted, (it wasn’t the only thing, she wanted to live, she wanted Michael here even though she’d sent him away, she wanted she wanted and she wanted) he never looked at her with pity in those dark eyes. The nurses and the doctors on this ward, always subdued, quiet, like they were all already dead. But she was Tegan Jovanka, damn it, the world would know when she died, if only from the collective decibel level going down."
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wellntruly · 27 days
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I really like your TV reviews. I like reading 'em even for shows I don't watch because your voice and the way you describe things is just fun. Thanks for having them all up and so nicely organized and easy to get to.
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You are sweet
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misscrazyfangirl321 · 10 months
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no but what if I actually sit down and write a mosquito!vampire AU with my OTP….
PLEASE tag me in it if you do
👀👀👀
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(For the ask meme)
I think your brain system that generates words would sound like electronic music. Like fun videogame thinking music.
That's a funny request -- like, I can give you a style description, but that's really different from saying "I'll write you a song in that style"
"Fast arpeggio figures, like a 120 bpm electronic cover of a Tom Lehrer parody"
"laughs like electronic cover of a Tom Lehrer parody
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thisbluespirit · 7 months
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A few different prompts, pick what suits your fancy!
Six &/ Charley (& or / however you like), 9, 22, or 28?
Seven/Romana, 20, 31, or 38?
Eight/Charley, 3, 18, or 48?
😊
Thank you! Six/Charley + 28 (as a lie)
***
“Yes, but the thing is, I can’t possibly marry you, your holiness – I have a husband!”  Charley grabbed the Doctor’s hand.  She tried to blush.  It proved difficult to do on order, so she merely lowered her lashes and attempted to look demure instead.
The Doctor turned his head and she could see him opening his mouth, probably to say something that would ruin it, like, “Is this another little detail you haven’t felt the need to share with me, Charlotte?”
Charley squeezed his hand tighter and mouthed, It’s you.  She hoped that the rider of play along would go without saying.
He narrowed his gaze, and she thought he would argue, but then his face cleared.  He turned back to address the Emperor.  “Oh, quite, your holiness.  I apologise for not mentioning it sooner – Charlotte and I have been married for years.”
“Utterly devoted.”
“Mad about each other,” added the Doctor, in tones she didn’t entirely like.
Charley coughed.  She tugged at his hand and then stretched up to put her arms around his neck – it was much more of a way to go with this Doctor.  Once there, she kissed him squarely on the mouth.  His face twitched.  Somewhat to her surprise, he closed his arms around her, tighter and fiercer than the soft velvet, swirling-around embrace of her Doctor, and kissed her back with both vim and vigour.
“Gosh,” she said, once they were finally done.  She coughed.  “I mean – see, your holiness?”
Afterwards, once they’d made their escape, the Doctor directed a stern look at her.  “That, Charlotte, is what I believe they call taking an outrageous liberty.”
“I really am most awfully sorry.”
And that, she reflected, was what you called a whopping fib.
Send me a ship/character combo + a kiss here!
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siena-sevenwits · 2 months
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I would like a folk song please!
You get "Verkhovyna," which is an extremely fun early 20th century Ukrainian folk tune. It starts slow and then picks up spirit. It's close to my heart because when I worked at a living history museum, there was a little informal choir among the costumed staff, and this was one of the songs we sometimes performed to showcase the popular music that immigrants brought to Canada. This version is performed by the Orpheus Vocal Group.
youtube
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allieinarden · 3 months
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It's your birthday?! Hap Birth!
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