Grym: Breaking the Silence
Feb. 11th, 2014 03:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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calufraxHello, I'm Clocketpatch and I'll be your reccer for the next two weeks.
Story: Breaking the Silence
Author: Grym
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 2078
Author's Summary: The Doctor struggles with memory, loss, and a forceful companion as he and Donna leave the planet of the Ood. (S4 spoilers through PotO.)
Characters/Pairings: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor
Warnings: None
Recced because:
Ten and Donna are one of my all-time favourite TARDIS teams. They worked as bright and shiny complements to each other. Ten gave Donna the inspiration to stretch her wings, and Donna was always there to pick up the Doctor when his wings failed him. In this episode-tag to Planet of the Ood, Ten is pretending to be fine, as he does, and Donna uses her practical, no-nonsense Chiswick approach to sort him out.
This fic is warm and sad at the same time; emotional H/C at its best. It's got great dialogue, beautifully poetic descriptions, and a wonderful portrayal of "Donna Noble of Chiswick, social justice activist from the galaxy next door". I love it a lot, and I hope you do too.
Excerpt:
Donna clears her throat, elbowing him in the ribs. He flashes her a quicksilver grin, all teeth and fervor, opens the door and shepherds her inside. The door closes behind them with a terminal click.
Immediately, silence.
No song pulling gently, insistently at the edges of the pit inside his mind. No impression of others lingering just beyond his senses. The sudden, severed connection takes his breath like a blow to the gut, and he stops at the threshold and leans against the closed doors, teeth gritted, eyes closed.
Donna’s rubber soles squelch across the console room, a counterpoint to her voice. “Who’d ever imagine people like the Ood making music like that? Very Bach. Very Mozart, if you know what I mean. Ood to Joy.”
“Beethoven,” he corrects automatically, leaning his head back against the TARDIS. “Only sounds that way because the ship translates it into something familiar.” His isolated voice inside his head echoes as if across a vast distance, lost, desolate. He raises a hand to rub his face, leaves it there.
“Doctor?”
Story: Breaking the Silence
Author: Grym
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 2078
Author's Summary: The Doctor struggles with memory, loss, and a forceful companion as he and Donna leave the planet of the Ood. (S4 spoilers through PotO.)
Characters/Pairings: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor
Warnings: None
Recced because:
Ten and Donna are one of my all-time favourite TARDIS teams. They worked as bright and shiny complements to each other. Ten gave Donna the inspiration to stretch her wings, and Donna was always there to pick up the Doctor when his wings failed him. In this episode-tag to Planet of the Ood, Ten is pretending to be fine, as he does, and Donna uses her practical, no-nonsense Chiswick approach to sort him out.
This fic is warm and sad at the same time; emotional H/C at its best. It's got great dialogue, beautifully poetic descriptions, and a wonderful portrayal of "Donna Noble of Chiswick, social justice activist from the galaxy next door". I love it a lot, and I hope you do too.
Excerpt:
Donna clears her throat, elbowing him in the ribs. He flashes her a quicksilver grin, all teeth and fervor, opens the door and shepherds her inside. The door closes behind them with a terminal click.
Immediately, silence.
No song pulling gently, insistently at the edges of the pit inside his mind. No impression of others lingering just beyond his senses. The sudden, severed connection takes his breath like a blow to the gut, and he stops at the threshold and leans against the closed doors, teeth gritted, eyes closed.
Donna’s rubber soles squelch across the console room, a counterpoint to her voice. “Who’d ever imagine people like the Ood making music like that? Very Bach. Very Mozart, if you know what I mean. Ood to Joy.”
“Beethoven,” he corrects automatically, leaning his head back against the TARDIS. “Only sounds that way because the ship translates it into something familiar.” His isolated voice inside his head echoes as if across a vast distance, lost, desolate. He raises a hand to rub his face, leaves it there.
“Doctor?”
