First Steps: Epilogue
May. 13th, 2011 04:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
charameiTitle: First Steps (Epilogue)
Rating: PG-13
Trigger warnings: Everything but Chapter Three is clean. Chapter Three: Miscarriage/infant death. Also, severe burning and dehydration.
Genre: Babyfic! No, wait. Action/Horror.
Characters/Pairings: Snail, Flabbaduckarusa and Tagalong. Or, in adult-speak: the Doctor, Braxiatel, and the Master.
Wordcount: Chapter: 578. Fic:
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who; I'm just playing in the BBC's sandbox for fun and practice.
Summary: There's being born, and then there's being born into a world with no adults, no clothes, no food and a terrifying alien Thing upstairs. When their Looms birth them straight into the middle of an emergency, can Our Heroes muddle through?
Beta'ed by the amazingin_lighter_ink and finished thanks to the brilliant people over at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
writethisfanfic.
Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Epilogue | PDF
Their classroom is beige.
That's the most noteworthy thing about it, Snail thinks as they're ushered to desks by the big windows. Granted, it has beautiful blue curtains and the pupils themselves, in their Chapter-coloured play suits, do a little to liven it up; and it's hardly a dull beige, formed into pillars and arches with gargoyles and carvings artfully arranged. But mostly, it's beige.
Their tutor is quite beige, too; not his clothing, but the way he stands and speaks. His voice has a faintly nasal quality to it as he wanders about the classroom correcting people's work, explaining the theory behind the circuits they're building in quiet, measured tones.
Snail, with the benefit of experience, completes his work before the tutor even makes it halfway around the classroom. Behind him Tagalong has finished even faster, and is now using parts of his toolkit to dismantle other parts of his toolkit and see how they work. It's all very... beige.
Flabbaduckarusa finishes his last circuit and starts leafing through the textbook, looking for something harder to do.
It's a glorious day outside: sunny and warm, the flora bursting with vibrancy from a recent rainstorm. A breeze blows in through the open window, ruffling Snail's hair. It carries a heady, exciting scent, and as he turns to get another whiff of it, something bright and glinting in the distance catches his eye. There's so much out there to see...
A loud snap sounds behind him as Tagalong shuts the casing on his screwdriver. Moments later, it's followed by a soft, "Uh-oh."
Snail leans back. "What's the matter?"
Tagalong holds up his level. "I've lost the laser bit for this."
The girl he's sitting next to looks up from her work long enough to say, "You haven't lost it. You just put it in your screwdriver, I saw you," and sniff disapprovingly.
Tagalong's face falls. "Oh."
That breeze is blowing again. What does it smell of? Fruit? Animal droppings? Fresh-cut grass? A particular flower, or lots of them all mixed together? Snail pushes experimentally at the window; the gap widens with ease.
Their tutor is getting closer. Snail nudges Flabbaduckarusa. "I'm bored. Are you bored?"
"Not really," his brother says, and goes back to his work.
"I am," Tagalong says.
"Only, there's this smell I don't recognise, and I can see something on the horizon..."
"Isn't this all a bit similar to how you ended up watching the Drudge die and crying on a transmat pad?" Flabbaduckarusa asks.
Snail ignores him, focussing on Tagalong. "I'm really bored."
Tagalong nods. "And I'm going to get into trouble for taking my toolkit apart, aren't I?"
"Very probably."
"Very improbably," the girl mutters. "Truancy, on the other hand –"
Snail ignores her, too. "Come on, then."
Tagalong pockets his ruined screwdriver and crawls under his desk. Snail shoves the window wide open and climbs through it as silently as he can. It's not very far to the ground; he lands in a flowerbed and moves hastily out of the way before Tagalong follows him.
Scarcely able to believe they've done it, they grin at one another for a moment before Tagalong says, "So where are we going? Smell or horizon?"
Snail looks around. The wind has dropped, and he can't see the horizon through the flowers he's crouched in. Well, they can't go back in, so that leaves only one thing to do.
He picks a direction at random, and starts running.
/\/\/\
Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Epilogue | PDF
/\/\/\
If you've read this far, please leave me some incredibly simple feedback by clicking two buttons below. It'll be appreciated! (Comments are also nice, of course.)
Rating: PG-13
Trigger warnings: Everything but Chapter Three is clean. Chapter Three: Miscarriage/infant death. Also, severe burning and dehydration.
Genre: Babyfic! No, wait. Action/Horror.
Characters/Pairings: Snail, Flabbaduckarusa and Tagalong. Or, in adult-speak: the Doctor, Braxiatel, and the Master.
Wordcount: Chapter: 578. Fic:
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who; I'm just playing in the BBC's sandbox for fun and practice.
Summary: There's being born, and then there's being born into a world with no adults, no clothes, no food and a terrifying alien Thing upstairs. When their Looms birth them straight into the middle of an emergency, can Our Heroes muddle through?
Beta'ed by the amazing
in_lighter_ink and finished thanks to the brilliant people over at writethisfanfic.Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Epilogue | PDF
Their classroom is beige.
That's the most noteworthy thing about it, Snail thinks as they're ushered to desks by the big windows. Granted, it has beautiful blue curtains and the pupils themselves, in their Chapter-coloured play suits, do a little to liven it up; and it's hardly a dull beige, formed into pillars and arches with gargoyles and carvings artfully arranged. But mostly, it's beige.
Their tutor is quite beige, too; not his clothing, but the way he stands and speaks. His voice has a faintly nasal quality to it as he wanders about the classroom correcting people's work, explaining the theory behind the circuits they're building in quiet, measured tones.
Snail, with the benefit of experience, completes his work before the tutor even makes it halfway around the classroom. Behind him Tagalong has finished even faster, and is now using parts of his toolkit to dismantle other parts of his toolkit and see how they work. It's all very... beige.
Flabbaduckarusa finishes his last circuit and starts leafing through the textbook, looking for something harder to do.
It's a glorious day outside: sunny and warm, the flora bursting with vibrancy from a recent rainstorm. A breeze blows in through the open window, ruffling Snail's hair. It carries a heady, exciting scent, and as he turns to get another whiff of it, something bright and glinting in the distance catches his eye. There's so much out there to see...
A loud snap sounds behind him as Tagalong shuts the casing on his screwdriver. Moments later, it's followed by a soft, "Uh-oh."
Snail leans back. "What's the matter?"
Tagalong holds up his level. "I've lost the laser bit for this."
The girl he's sitting next to looks up from her work long enough to say, "You haven't lost it. You just put it in your screwdriver, I saw you," and sniff disapprovingly.
Tagalong's face falls. "Oh."
That breeze is blowing again. What does it smell of? Fruit? Animal droppings? Fresh-cut grass? A particular flower, or lots of them all mixed together? Snail pushes experimentally at the window; the gap widens with ease.
Their tutor is getting closer. Snail nudges Flabbaduckarusa. "I'm bored. Are you bored?"
"Not really," his brother says, and goes back to his work.
"I am," Tagalong says.
"Only, there's this smell I don't recognise, and I can see something on the horizon..."
"Isn't this all a bit similar to how you ended up watching the Drudge die and crying on a transmat pad?" Flabbaduckarusa asks.
Snail ignores him, focussing on Tagalong. "I'm really bored."
Tagalong nods. "And I'm going to get into trouble for taking my toolkit apart, aren't I?"
"Very probably."
"Very improbably," the girl mutters. "Truancy, on the other hand –"
Snail ignores her, too. "Come on, then."
Tagalong pockets his ruined screwdriver and crawls under his desk. Snail shoves the window wide open and climbs through it as silently as he can. It's not very far to the ground; he lands in a flowerbed and moves hastily out of the way before Tagalong follows him.
Scarcely able to believe they've done it, they grin at one another for a moment before Tagalong says, "So where are we going? Smell or horizon?"
Snail looks around. The wind has dropped, and he can't see the horizon through the flowers he's crouched in. Well, they can't go back in, so that leaves only one thing to do.
He picks a direction at random, and starts running.
Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Epilogue | PDF
If you've read this far, please leave me some incredibly simple feedback by clicking two buttons below. It'll be appreciated! (Comments are also nice, of course.)
Poll #6964 First Steps end-of-fic poll
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 6
On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the best and 1 being the worst, how did you like this fic?
View Answers
Mean: 8.67 Median: 8.5 Std. Dev 1.11
Mean: 8.67 Median: 8.5 Std. Dev 1.11
| 1 | 0 (0.0%) | |
|---|---|---|
| 2 | 0 (0.0%) | |
| 3 | 0 (0.0%) | |
| 4 | 0 (0.0%) | |
| 5 | 0 (0.0%) | |
| 6 | 0 (0.0%) | |
| 7 | 1 (16.7%) | |
| 8 | 2 (33.3%) | |
| 9 | 1 (16.7%) | |
| 10 | 2 (33.3%) |
no subject
Date: 2011-05-14 07:04 pm (UTC)Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it.
& hee, I was hoping someone would recognise baby Rani having her cameo there. (She has another reference in chapter two, actually, but it's so obscure that I'm not expecting anyone to catch it: she was the Loomling who left the 'chemical composition of your body' book open on the buffet table.)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-14 07:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-14 07:12 pm (UTC)Nobody had better get her a pet, is all I can say.