Doctor Who - Spazz Community

Hi. I am a fan of Sarah Jane Smith and Harry Sullivan. I roleplay Sarah Jane on a site and for the past so many months have been looking for a Harry for her but had no luck. If anyone would like to, let me know and I will give you the information. Sorry if I have posted this in the wrong place.

I changed the journal style so the comments aren't nearly so cramped, however, there aren't any icons on the main page.

Let me know if it's obnoxious.

Or actually, if anyone still watches this comm. *chuckles*

The Valeyard sits quietly in the empty space at a table, his gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. This space has been abandoned for quite some time, he presumes, and perhaps a little appearance might liven up the place.

"Tell me," he murmurs in his soft baritone, "What do you most regret?'

Hello!

I'm a first poster and I'm not even sure it is allowed so if I'm doing it wrong please forgive me.
I have a huge problem. I'm at the end of my Ba studies, so I have to write a thesis. My wonderful teacher accepted that my topic will be about Doctor Who and the British society. However as I'm not British (English is not even my native language so forgive any mistakes)
I'm not sure what to write about. She said I should concentrate on the David Tennant episode's so I'm re watching it. But it's too much and I don't have enough time.
So here it comes can you British people tell me if you can see similarities/ connections between Doctor Who and your culture.
I was thinking on maybe something like this:
Harriet Jones was first introduced as a good character, than politicians became bad- can it be because first the iraq war was justified as freedom fight and protection against biological weapons later on it was revealed that there were no weapons and the people's opinion about politicians became worse? Am I seeing too much into it?
But I need these kind of things how real life affected the writers of Doctor Who.

Thanks in advance.

[Spoilers for the Big Finish audio Patient Zero. If you don't want to know, please move along.]

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This is the Master.  Not a Master many might be familiar with, but a Master nonetheless.

In need of some respite, perhaps, he has retired to the Nexus, and is currently to be found wielding a beautifully crafted rapier with an elaborately twisted wire hilt, the blade wickedly sharp, gleaming and whistling as he fences against an invisible foe.   He's just burning energy, really, taking small pleasures where he can.  Interrupt him if you feel like it; depending who you are, he may or may not mind.

The TARDIS appears in the Nexus, the usual groaning sound discordant and labored. The materialization takes longer than normal, as though she is barely able to pull herself into definite space and time. Her exterior is dull and battered and neither the windows nor the Police Box sign are illuminated. The door is slightly ajar. She has not bothered to close it, since there is no one inside who would need protection from angry outsiders or the forces of the time vortex. Not anymore.

'This is not the graveyard,' she wonders. Whatever this place is, it feels quite soothing to her senses. Things are in flow here, almost like in the time vortex that she doesn't have the energy nor the will to enter again.

She will stay here for a while.

Here is the Doctor.

Or rather, here is Zagreus.

When he knows who he is at all, of course.  At the moment, he doesn't seem to have noticed he's wandered into the Nexus at all, looking thoroughly distracted and muttering darkly to himself.  'Zagreus seeks the hero's ship/ Zagreus needs the web to rip/ Zagreus sups time at a drip-' he pauses briefly to chuckle, a discordant little sound, before finishing the verse with quiet relish.  'And life aside, he's sweeping.'

To anyone with psychic abilities or temporal senses, there is something about him that will feel very, very wrong.  A grating along the edges, as if there's a rhythm to him that's syncopated half a beat off with the rest of the universe.  This, should anyone care to put a name to it, is anti-Time.  It is, in a manner of speaking, Zagreus.  An anathema to positive time, a positive universe, to order and the stability of the Web of Time.  It is, in addition to being very, very wrong, very, very dangerous.

Or it has the potential to be, at any rate, if the man- the Doctor or Zagreus- sways one way instead of the other.

Abruptly, he pauses.  'I-' blinks, pauses again, and all the dark relish in his face gives way to honest confusion.  'I'm quite sure I was looking for something just now, only I haven't- Ship!'  He raises his voice to a shout.  ' SHIP!  Where have you brought me to?  You sneaking, conniving, useless Ship, I was looking for something!'

In one corner of the Nexus sits the Doctor, wearing one of those silly cone-shaped party hats (his is green with silver stars on it!), behind a rather long table that has, among a few other things, a huge cake.

Not just any cake.  A birthday cake.  Said cake has three candles on it, one shaped like a 9, one shaped like a 2, and another 9.  There are a few sad strands of streamers taped to the wall, as if he got distracted halfway through putting them up and forgot about the rest.  Perhaps he was distracted by the few balloons that are tied to an even fewer amount of the chairs, who knows?

"As someone who travels in time," the Doctor begins to anybody close enough to hear (as he didn't send out invitations, and is merely hoping that people who want to celebrate with him will happen to be wandering past), "I get to decide when my birthday is.  So guess what, everybody?  Today is my birthday!"

Though, don't let the cake fool you; this is roughly the 150th time he has turned '929'.


((OOC: Yes, this is a party thread, so mingle around, and feel free to threadjack and whatnot as much as you'd like. :3  Also yes, I do live vicariously through my characters, as tomorrow is MY birthday, why do you ask?))

Look everybody!  It's Lucie Miller!

She's doing a crossword puzzle, or at least attempting to do it, anyway.  The look on her face as she chews on the cap of her ballpoint pen might suggest she's not exactly having the easiest time of it.  Maybe somebody should distract her with conversation, or something.  That might be nice.