December 3rd, 2011
|10:32 pm - When you give the Doctor a future King...|
Continued from here
The Doctor lets out a laugh. "If only it was that simple, Arthur." He snaps his fingers at him, a barely contained smile on his face. "Bet you've never heard of Vif. It's a swamp planet -- it's very swampy and very musty because it's so very swampy. Well, anyways, they have frogs there that are, not diamond encrusted, but very
shiny and -- I tell ya -- have the voices of angels. No -- main point, the population on the swamp planet of Vif are these tiny, little troll looking life forms. They're also very angry -- you'd be if you looked like a troll doll. I swear, they're like shaking up a bottle of fizzy water"...
And, no, before you ask, you can't get the Doctor to shut up. Just nod when he pauses for breath.
"Point is, that's their scout." He points to the bush with a simple rising of his brows. "So, Arthur Pendragon", the Doctor takes a step to Arthur; hands on his hips, his eyes steely, his voice calm and collected, and his face serious. "The question arises... will you help me?"
I'm incredibly tempted to retcon and have it just be young!canon!Arthur, negl.
Arthur has taken, at this point in the adventure, to just stare at the Doctor with a mixture of awe and doubt whenever he begins to ramble like that, and it's happened often enough in the incredibly short time that they've known each other. He had just been in his room, after all. It takes a lot to grasp and even believe everything he's hearing, but his first thought is what he vocalizes.
"Are people in danger?"
"Yes, of course. We are talking about an alien invasion; with the amount I've been in, the invading forces aren't always cookies and sunshine."
Really, he's puzzled that Arthur had to ask that. The Doctor glances back down at the bush and says, with resigned duty, "I suppose we can track the signal back, see how long we have." He points his sonic screwdriver to the sky, it letting out an increasingly high-pitched beeping noise. Only the Doctor seems to know what those beeps mean because his brows furrow together in worry. "Forty-five minutes; an hour at best."
DONE. HAVE AN EVEN MORE BAFFLED ARTHUR THEN, STRAIGHT OUT OF THE MIDDLE AGES.
Aliens. Well, there's one question. "What sort of aliens, exactly? I can't imagine they've got talking bushes anywhere else in the world." That's not the point though. If people are in trouble, he can't sit by and not do something. Even if he feels as if he's gone completely mental.
"Alright, first off, what do we need to do. Second...what the hell is that thing?"
STRAIGHT OUTTA CAMELOT.
, firstly, we need to negotiate
with them. Try to reason with them. A good man never seeks out a fight. If that doesn't work, well -- when life gives you lemon, you make lemonade." He turns his gaze to Arthur, his head cocked quizzically. "And what's what?"
You're talking to the Doctor, Arthur. There's a lot of "what the hell" things on him.((ooc: Now have the image of a rapping Arthur in this sort of vain; thank you <3 ))
Arthur nods, because that seems entirely logical. It's the opposite of what his father would likely do, but that doesn't make it wrong in the slightest.
"I'm pretty sure you're making up half of the words out of your mouth. And what's That." He says, pointing to the sonic screwdriver.
"I hear that a lot actually and this?" The Doctor tips his screwdriver towards Arthur. "This is my sonic screwdriver. And, yes, instead of going out and meeting women, I saw a screwdriver and thought, 'This could use a bit more sonic!'"
Up until now, Arthur had been quite content with thinking that this was a dream, or that he had lost his mind. Now though, something clicks. He stares at the Doctor, backing away slowly.
"You're using magic."
"Not magic", he pauses to lift the sonic into the air like a sword. "SCIENCE!" He hasn't remembered that magic (or, rather, science that is not yet understood), in Arthur's time has not fully been accepted and will not be accepted until Arthur's reign.
Arthur hardly believes that, and he stares around helplessly, wishing for a weapon.
"That is not science. Medicine is science."
"Yes it is. You see, sonic waves exit here", he points to the tip of the screwdriver. "Waves travel through the air", he makes some vague wave motions. "Hits the target, those waves excite the particles in said object and" -- blah, blah, blah. BORING!
"You made up half those words. You're a mental sorcerer, and I want none of this."
For a moment he wants to get as far away as he can, but he clenches his fists and frowns, his morals getting in the way.
"How much danger are these people in?"
"In a nutshell? Lots. Thousands of people will die and you, Arthur Pendragon, will allow it to happen because of your prejudice against so-called magic." Once again, not magic; just misunderstood or not yet discovered science.
"You're a good man and I know you won't allow it to happen, but, if you can't, then head back into the TARDIS. I'll take you home as soon as I'm finished saving the world again."
Arthur only had to think for a moment, and he squares his shoulders with a nod.
"What do I have to do?"
Prejudices aside, people matter more.
The Doctor looks at Arthur for a moment before clapping his hands together and pointing to a large clearing next to them. "From my calculations, I expect them to land there. However, we can't allow them to get that far. Long story short, we beam up there, try to talk them out of this whole thing, and, if -- and I mean if -- that doesn't work." He pulls out a lemon from his jacket and tosses it to him. "Make lemonade."