wyrdwritere (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wyrdwritere) wrote2023-04-26 05:21 pm
wyrdwritere) wrote2023-04-26 05:21 pm
Entry tags:
The Tombs Of The Timelords, Episode 1
It’s a sunny day, late morning, on a beautiful tropical beach. The waves are gentle, birds hop about on the sand, and the Thirtheenth Doctor naps on an opulent chaise longe wearing a striped Edwardian swimsuit, a gorgeous kimono, and an extravagant gauchos hat. A volcanic cone smolders on the horizon during a montage of Yaz and Dan using high-grade tools to competitively build impressive sandcastles. They take turns wearing a spectacular conical hat that reads “It’s my birthday!”, swapping it back and forth whenever one of them scores a point.
Suddenly, the mountain bursts in a huge blast of fire and smoke, vaporizing the distant island. The flash awakens the Doctor.
Doctor: Finally!
The Doctor grabs up the beach chair and heads to the TARDIS. Her companions follow, towing a really big red wagon filled with sand sculpture stuff, and they all get into the TARDIS just as the massive tsunami hits.
The TARDIS tumbles a bit before the Doctor manages to dematerialize and they all pick themselves up.
Doctor: So, that’s Krakatoa.
OPENING CREDITS
Dan: I told you sandcastles was fun.
Yaz: yeah, all right.
She hands him the birthday hat, pulls out a noise maker, and blows it once.
Doctor [from behind a changing screen]: You know this is a time machine, right? It’s your birthday whenever you want it to be?
Dan: Yes, but we have the same birthday, and it happens to be the day of the Krakatoa eruption of 1883, so when you insisted we had to go spend a day at the beach right there and then, what else were we supposed to do?
Yaz: And now that it’s done, why did we do it? It’s not the first time you’ve taken us to a disaster, but setting up in advance and then leaving once it starts is a new one.
Doctor: It was the closest entry point for a safe passage to our real destination.
Yaz: Where’s that?
Doctor [emerges in her normal outfit]: The Boötes supervoid.
Yaz: Ugh, why there? It’s one of the creepiest places in the universe.
Dan: Why? What’s a supervoid?
Yaz: It’s a region of space with nothing in it.
Dan: Isn’t that just… space?
Yaz: No, I mean NOTHING in it. It’s 300 million light years across, and it’s EMPTY. No stars, no galaxies, nothing.
Doctor: It’s not completely empty. There are a few dwarf galaxies here and there. It’s just mostly empty.
Yaz: You could stretch 3,000 Milky Way galaxies across end to end, and it would still be mostly empty. You’d need, what… 200 trillion Milky Ways to fill it?
Doctor: Well, the Milky Way is a flattened disk and the void itself is only roughly spherical–
Yaz glares.
Doctor: So it would actually be more like.…
Dan: So, if it’s so empty, why are we making such an effort to go there?
Doctor: I have to go to a funeral.
BEAT
Yaz & Dan: What??
Doctor: It’s a family funeral…. Sort of.
Yaz: You have a family?
Dan: I’m sorry for your loss.
Yaz: And I’m just hearing about them now one of them is gone?
Doctor: Family’s not really the right word, but it’s about as close as English gets. They aren’t a relative; we didn’t grow up together or anything, except we very profoundly did…
Yaz puts a hand on the Doctor’s back.
Yaz: Back up, Doctor; what’s this person’s name? Who are they?
Doctor: They’re the Prydonian Prefect.
Dan: That’s a tight collar of a name.
Yaz: Like you’re the Doctor, a name and an identity and an aspiration all at once?
Doctor nods.
Yaz: So, this is another Timelord?
Doctor: Yes.
Yaz: How do you know them?
Dan: Do you want to sit down? Would you like a cuppa?
Doctor: Yes, thanks.
Dan nods to Yaz: I’ll make it.
Yaz and the Doctor walk past the console and sit together. Dan heads off to make tea, but is still in earshot. As the Doctor passes the console, she presses a lever and a biscuit slides down a little chute and into her hand. She nibbles as she goes.
Doctor: So, what you need to understand is that all Timelords are from Gallifrey, but not all of us are Timelords.
Yaz: OK
Doctor: Becoming a Timelord is an involved process, but the early stages all happen at an Academy, and they’re stranger than any school you’ve ever heard of.
Dan pops his head back into frame to interject, but before he can the Doctor adds: “Not even Hogwarts!”
Doctor: I was one of the Prydonians, the longest.
Yaz: You mean oldest?
Doctor: Sort of. You see, the easiest form of time travel is a kind of bridge, a hub that connects all the moments between when you turn it on and when you turn it off. During that time, anyone who enters the nexus can leave at any other point in its existence. The Prydonian academy is longer than any of the others. The Paramephors say otherwise, but they would.
Yaz: That must make for strange class reunions.
Doctor: Well, that’s one of the ways it’s not like any normal school: there aren’t different years of students; we don’t have a class of 91 followed by a class of 92. There’s just the Prydonians. We’re one group, who all started and finished together.
Yaz: [a beat while she thinks about this] So, like someone who built the pyramids, someone who fought in the Trojan War, someone from the French Revolution, and someone from my time would all be at school together at exactly the same time, learning the exact same lessons?
Doctor: Yes, but add students from the Cambrian, Jurassic, and Cretaceous eras, and you’ve got a better sense of the spread.
Yaz: How can people from so many different times and places even understand each other, much less learn to be Timelords together?
Doctor: We were all kids.
Dan comes over with tea.
Dan: That must have been such a lonely time for each of you.
Doctor: Yes. Yes, Dan. It was.
Yaz: So now we’re off to the funeral for the head girl of your school?
Doctor: Yes, basically.
Yaz hugs the Doctor, who appreciates it.
Doctor: I’ve been asked to serve as psychopomp.
Yaz: I’m pretty sure that’s not a kind of therapist, but what…?
Dan: It’s a guide for the dead, like Charon the ferryman or the Valkyries.
Yaz: I can picture you as a valkyrie. Will you be wearing a costume?
Dan: We don’t have to wear suits or anything, do we?
There is a thud as the TARDIS arrives.
Doctor: … Nothing you need to worry about.
———————
The Doctor, Yaz, and Dan emerge from the TARDIS, the Doctor dressed as she usually is, but wearing a sort of techno tiara. Yaz has dressed in a smart ensemble (perhaps a ruddy blazer and slacks, with a neck tie) and Dan sports an outfit that was probably cobbled together from the third doctor’s wardrobe. After a glance from Yaz, he tosses the birthday hat back into the TARDIS.
The three friends stand inside a glass sphere atop an elegantly spiraled tower overlooking a lush tropical rainforest. The sky is a ring of orange that fades to starless black overhead.
Doctor: You really didn’t need to change clothes.
Yaz: It’s a family funeral, so yes we did. And what’s that on your head?
Doctor: It's a Matrix Integrator. It's for the psychopompery.
Dan: Where are we?
Doctor: It’s the entry point, the center of the labyrinth. This whole thing is a bit like a scaled up confession dial.
Dan: A scaled up what?
Doctor: Oh, it’s so much to explain.
Dan and Yaz exchange glances. “It’s OK, you don’t need to,” he replies.
Yaz: There are patterns in the foliage; are those the paths through the maze?
Doctor: Labyrinth. Yes, there are different routes that proceed all through the environments on this planet. We don’t need to worry about those; they’re for guests.
Yaz: Aren’t we guests?
Doctor: I’m not, and you’re with me. Instead, let’s cut to the chase.
She pulls out her sonic screwdriver, which makes a noise we have never heard it make before, and the transparent sphere they’re in whirls so quickly around them the scenery blurs. Then it stops and peels away, revealing a plain white room with no distinct light sources and with white glowing circles in the walls. (The “round things”.)
Doctor: Oooh, fancy.
Dan: You’re kidding, right?
Doctor: “I experience the world in ways you don’t. Anyway, it’s this way.” She walks forward and the way opens before her, revealing a plain corridor also lined with round things.
Yaz: OK, so what do we need to know not to embarrass ourselves?
Dan: Or get ourselves killed?
Doctor: Oh, it’s perfectly safe here. You should feel free to wander off if you want.
Yaz: Really?
Doctor: Yep.
Dan and Yaz exchange glances then survey the monochromatic hallway and its lack of obvious doors or branches.
Dan: So who else will be coming to this funeral?
Doctor: It’s hard to say. Every Prydonian, of course, ambassadors from other academies, the High Council, all the observers needed for treaty oversight, friends and family, not to mention…
[montage of them walking down what might as well be the same stretch of corridor repeatedly while the Doctor talks. Yaz listens attentively, but Dan checks out, pulls a marker from his pocket and starts drawing arrows on the otherwise featureless walls.]
Doctor: … Of course, that’s assuming the Prefect will be as formal as usual. And who knows how the time war will affect things.
Yaz: Meaning there could be multiple versions of each of these people, or people from recessed timelines, or we could be the only ones here, or we could have to fight off a Dalek attack.
Doctor: Yes, exactly. You’ve really been paying attention, haven’t you?
While Yaz and the Doctor share a look, Dan draws another arrow on the wall, or tries to. Instead, the marker and his hand leave a gouge instead of a mark, and his hand comes away coated in white flecks akin to styrofoam packing peanuts.
Dan: Doctor, come and look at this.
She turns to him, sees what’s on his hand and regards it with interest, before sniffing it cautiously, then pushing on the wall herself.
Doctor: Something has replaced this part of corridor. See how the color’s slightly off?
Dan: No.
Doctor: Well, it’s subtle. I didn’t notice it myself until you pointed it out. But what is it?
She starts rapping on different parts of the wall. She doesn’t notice the floor is starting to drain away like sand in an hourglass beneath them all, but Yaz does and she cries out a warning as she shoves her two friends out of the way, and falls into the sudden sinkhole herself. Dan and the Doctor collect themselves and move to help, when the wall next to them also cascades down, forming a strange, blobby shape. Dan leaps upon it, holding it back while the Doctor sprawls out and reaches down for Yaz, who has sunk pretty far down. Their arms stretch out, their hands almost meet, before the grains of sand swallow Yaz entirely.
END CREDITS
Suddenly, the mountain bursts in a huge blast of fire and smoke, vaporizing the distant island. The flash awakens the Doctor.
Doctor: Finally!
The Doctor grabs up the beach chair and heads to the TARDIS. Her companions follow, towing a really big red wagon filled with sand sculpture stuff, and they all get into the TARDIS just as the massive tsunami hits.
The TARDIS tumbles a bit before the Doctor manages to dematerialize and they all pick themselves up.
Doctor: So, that’s Krakatoa.
OPENING CREDITS
Dan: I told you sandcastles was fun.
Yaz: yeah, all right.
She hands him the birthday hat, pulls out a noise maker, and blows it once.
Doctor [from behind a changing screen]: You know this is a time machine, right? It’s your birthday whenever you want it to be?
Dan: Yes, but we have the same birthday, and it happens to be the day of the Krakatoa eruption of 1883, so when you insisted we had to go spend a day at the beach right there and then, what else were we supposed to do?
Yaz: And now that it’s done, why did we do it? It’s not the first time you’ve taken us to a disaster, but setting up in advance and then leaving once it starts is a new one.
Doctor: It was the closest entry point for a safe passage to our real destination.
Yaz: Where’s that?
Doctor [emerges in her normal outfit]: The Boötes supervoid.
Yaz: Ugh, why there? It’s one of the creepiest places in the universe.
Dan: Why? What’s a supervoid?
Yaz: It’s a region of space with nothing in it.
Dan: Isn’t that just… space?
Yaz: No, I mean NOTHING in it. It’s 300 million light years across, and it’s EMPTY. No stars, no galaxies, nothing.
Doctor: It’s not completely empty. There are a few dwarf galaxies here and there. It’s just mostly empty.
Yaz: You could stretch 3,000 Milky Way galaxies across end to end, and it would still be mostly empty. You’d need, what… 200 trillion Milky Ways to fill it?
Doctor: Well, the Milky Way is a flattened disk and the void itself is only roughly spherical–
Yaz glares.
Doctor: So it would actually be more like.…
Dan: So, if it’s so empty, why are we making such an effort to go there?
Doctor: I have to go to a funeral.
BEAT
Yaz & Dan: What??
Doctor: It’s a family funeral…. Sort of.
Yaz: You have a family?
Dan: I’m sorry for your loss.
Yaz: And I’m just hearing about them now one of them is gone?
Doctor: Family’s not really the right word, but it’s about as close as English gets. They aren’t a relative; we didn’t grow up together or anything, except we very profoundly did…
Yaz puts a hand on the Doctor’s back.
Yaz: Back up, Doctor; what’s this person’s name? Who are they?
Doctor: They’re the Prydonian Prefect.
Dan: That’s a tight collar of a name.
Yaz: Like you’re the Doctor, a name and an identity and an aspiration all at once?
Doctor nods.
Yaz: So, this is another Timelord?
Doctor: Yes.
Yaz: How do you know them?
Dan: Do you want to sit down? Would you like a cuppa?
Doctor: Yes, thanks.
Dan nods to Yaz: I’ll make it.
Yaz and the Doctor walk past the console and sit together. Dan heads off to make tea, but is still in earshot. As the Doctor passes the console, she presses a lever and a biscuit slides down a little chute and into her hand. She nibbles as she goes.
Doctor: So, what you need to understand is that all Timelords are from Gallifrey, but not all of us are Timelords.
Yaz: OK
Doctor: Becoming a Timelord is an involved process, but the early stages all happen at an Academy, and they’re stranger than any school you’ve ever heard of.
Dan pops his head back into frame to interject, but before he can the Doctor adds: “Not even Hogwarts!”
Doctor: I was one of the Prydonians, the longest.
Yaz: You mean oldest?
Doctor: Sort of. You see, the easiest form of time travel is a kind of bridge, a hub that connects all the moments between when you turn it on and when you turn it off. During that time, anyone who enters the nexus can leave at any other point in its existence. The Prydonian academy is longer than any of the others. The Paramephors say otherwise, but they would.
Yaz: That must make for strange class reunions.
Doctor: Well, that’s one of the ways it’s not like any normal school: there aren’t different years of students; we don’t have a class of 91 followed by a class of 92. There’s just the Prydonians. We’re one group, who all started and finished together.
Yaz: [a beat while she thinks about this] So, like someone who built the pyramids, someone who fought in the Trojan War, someone from the French Revolution, and someone from my time would all be at school together at exactly the same time, learning the exact same lessons?
Doctor: Yes, but add students from the Cambrian, Jurassic, and Cretaceous eras, and you’ve got a better sense of the spread.
Yaz: How can people from so many different times and places even understand each other, much less learn to be Timelords together?
Doctor: We were all kids.
Dan comes over with tea.
Dan: That must have been such a lonely time for each of you.
Doctor: Yes. Yes, Dan. It was.
Yaz: So now we’re off to the funeral for the head girl of your school?
Doctor: Yes, basically.
Yaz hugs the Doctor, who appreciates it.
Doctor: I’ve been asked to serve as psychopomp.
Yaz: I’m pretty sure that’s not a kind of therapist, but what…?
Dan: It’s a guide for the dead, like Charon the ferryman or the Valkyries.
Yaz: I can picture you as a valkyrie. Will you be wearing a costume?
Dan: We don’t have to wear suits or anything, do we?
There is a thud as the TARDIS arrives.
Doctor: … Nothing you need to worry about.
———————
The Doctor, Yaz, and Dan emerge from the TARDIS, the Doctor dressed as she usually is, but wearing a sort of techno tiara. Yaz has dressed in a smart ensemble (perhaps a ruddy blazer and slacks, with a neck tie) and Dan sports an outfit that was probably cobbled together from the third doctor’s wardrobe. After a glance from Yaz, he tosses the birthday hat back into the TARDIS.
The three friends stand inside a glass sphere atop an elegantly spiraled tower overlooking a lush tropical rainforest. The sky is a ring of orange that fades to starless black overhead.
Doctor: You really didn’t need to change clothes.
Yaz: It’s a family funeral, so yes we did. And what’s that on your head?
Doctor: It's a Matrix Integrator. It's for the psychopompery.
Dan: Where are we?
Doctor: It’s the entry point, the center of the labyrinth. This whole thing is a bit like a scaled up confession dial.
Dan: A scaled up what?
Doctor: Oh, it’s so much to explain.
Dan and Yaz exchange glances. “It’s OK, you don’t need to,” he replies.
Yaz: There are patterns in the foliage; are those the paths through the maze?
Doctor: Labyrinth. Yes, there are different routes that proceed all through the environments on this planet. We don’t need to worry about those; they’re for guests.
Yaz: Aren’t we guests?
Doctor: I’m not, and you’re with me. Instead, let’s cut to the chase.
She pulls out her sonic screwdriver, which makes a noise we have never heard it make before, and the transparent sphere they’re in whirls so quickly around them the scenery blurs. Then it stops and peels away, revealing a plain white room with no distinct light sources and with white glowing circles in the walls. (The “round things”.)
Doctor: Oooh, fancy.
Dan: You’re kidding, right?
Doctor: “I experience the world in ways you don’t. Anyway, it’s this way.” She walks forward and the way opens before her, revealing a plain corridor also lined with round things.
Yaz: OK, so what do we need to know not to embarrass ourselves?
Dan: Or get ourselves killed?
Doctor: Oh, it’s perfectly safe here. You should feel free to wander off if you want.
Yaz: Really?
Doctor: Yep.
Dan and Yaz exchange glances then survey the monochromatic hallway and its lack of obvious doors or branches.
Dan: So who else will be coming to this funeral?
Doctor: It’s hard to say. Every Prydonian, of course, ambassadors from other academies, the High Council, all the observers needed for treaty oversight, friends and family, not to mention…
[montage of them walking down what might as well be the same stretch of corridor repeatedly while the Doctor talks. Yaz listens attentively, but Dan checks out, pulls a marker from his pocket and starts drawing arrows on the otherwise featureless walls.]
Doctor: … Of course, that’s assuming the Prefect will be as formal as usual. And who knows how the time war will affect things.
Yaz: Meaning there could be multiple versions of each of these people, or people from recessed timelines, or we could be the only ones here, or we could have to fight off a Dalek attack.
Doctor: Yes, exactly. You’ve really been paying attention, haven’t you?
While Yaz and the Doctor share a look, Dan draws another arrow on the wall, or tries to. Instead, the marker and his hand leave a gouge instead of a mark, and his hand comes away coated in white flecks akin to styrofoam packing peanuts.
Dan: Doctor, come and look at this.
She turns to him, sees what’s on his hand and regards it with interest, before sniffing it cautiously, then pushing on the wall herself.
Doctor: Something has replaced this part of corridor. See how the color’s slightly off?
Dan: No.
Doctor: Well, it’s subtle. I didn’t notice it myself until you pointed it out. But what is it?
She starts rapping on different parts of the wall. She doesn’t notice the floor is starting to drain away like sand in an hourglass beneath them all, but Yaz does and she cries out a warning as she shoves her two friends out of the way, and falls into the sudden sinkhole herself. Dan and the Doctor collect themselves and move to help, when the wall next to them also cascades down, forming a strange, blobby shape. Dan leaps upon it, holding it back while the Doctor sprawls out and reaches down for Yaz, who has sunk pretty far down. Their arms stretch out, their hands almost meet, before the grains of sand swallow Yaz entirely.
END CREDITS
Continue to Part Two