Showing posts with label The Warrior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Warrior. Show all posts

Sunday, 24 February 2019

Journey, The Blue Soldier



JOURNEY: 
I'm Lieutenant Journey Blue of the Combined Galactic Resistance. 
I demand you take me back to my command ship, the Aristotle, which is currently located -


Attack Eyebrows : 
No. Hey, not like that. 

JOURNEY: 
You will take me back to my command ship, which is currently positioned -

Attack Eyebrows : 
No, no. Come on. 
Not like that. Not like that. 
Get it right

(Journey lowers her gun.)

JOURNEY: 
.....Will you take me back to my ship? 
....Please? 

Attack Eyebrows : 
The Aristotle's the big fella parked in the asteroid belt, yeah? 


(The Doctor sets the TARDIS moving.)

JOURNEY: 
It's shielded.

Attack Eyebrows : 
More or less. 

(The Aristotle is hiding by one edge of a long thin asteroid. Journey opens the Tardis door.)

Attack Eyebrows : 
Dry your eyes, Journey Blue. 
Crying's for civilians. 
It's how we communicate with you lot. 

*****




JOURNEY: 
These are nanocontrollers. 
Once we're miniaturised, they take over the molecular compression. 
When the mission's over, hit the button. 

(Journey puts the bracelet on Clara's wrist.)

JOURNEY: 
Are you sure you understand?

CLARA: 
Why wouldn't I? 

JOURNEY: 
Because this is a dangerous mission 
and you look like a school teacher. 

CLARA: 
I am a school teacher -
Still didn't catch your name. 

JOURNEY: 
Journey Blue. 

CLARA: 
Blue? 

JOURNEY: 
Blue, yes. 
Problem? 

CLARA: 
No. Er, I just met a soldier called Pink. 

JOURNEY: 
Lucky fella. 

CLARA: 
Lucky? 

JOURNEY: 
From the way you smile. 

CLARA: 
So, er, who makes you smile 
or is nobody up to the job? 

JOURNEY: 
My Brother. 
But he burned to death a couple of hours ago, so he's really letting me down today. 

Excuse me. 




Attack Eyebrows : 
What are those ones for? 
I don't need armed baby-sitters. 

GRETCHEN: 
We're not baby-sitters.

ROSS: 
We're here to shoot you dead if you turn out to be a Dalek spy. 

Attack Eyebrows : 
Well, that's a relief. 
I hate baby-sitters. 



JOURNEY: 
Okay, listen up. 
Now, remember, do not hold your breath when the nanoscaler engages. 
You'll feel like you want to, but you must keep breathing normally during the miniaturisation process. 

CLARA: 
Why? 

Attack Eyebrows: 
Ever microwaved a lasagne without pricking the film on top? 

CLARA: 
It explodes. 

Attack Eyebrows: 
Don't be lasagne. 

MORGAN: 
Nanoscaler engaging in five four three two. 
Nanoscaler engaging now. 

COMPUTER: 
Nanoscaling in progress. 

(A crossbeam passes back and forth over chamber id AR-O13-AR-F74 until it shrinks with a bump.)

COMPUTER: 
Nanoscaling complete. 

MORGAN: 
Nanoscaling successful. 
Everyone okay in there? 

(The chamber is carefully picked up with a pair of tweezers.)

JOURNEY Blue :
We made it. 
Nobody popped. 

Danny, The Pink Soldier


DANNY,
The Pink Soldier : 
There's a bit more to modern soldiering than just shooting people. 
I like to think there's a moral dimension. 

CLARA: 
Ah, you shoot people then cry about it afterwards? 






QUINTUS = ‘FIVE’ = GRACE




GRACE :
A People Should Know When They’re Conquered.

Maximus Decimus Meridius 
The Pink Soldier :
Would You, Quintus?
Would I?


Soil?

The Elder :
No, I’m fine, Ta.


Maximus Decimus Meridius 
The Pink Soldier :
Strength+Honour



SECRETARY
So, Mister Pink, did you have a good weekend? 

DANNY
The Pink Soldier : 
Yeah, I did, thanks. 

SECRETARY: 
Yeah, I'll bet you did. 
What did you get up to? 

DANNY
The Pink Soldier : 
Er, you know. 
A bit of reading. 

SECRETARY: 
Oh, I bet you were reading. 

DANNY
The Pink Soldier : 
I was, yeah. 

SECRETARY:
 Yeah, I bet you were. 

DANNY
The Pink Soldier : 
Well, yeah, I was. 

SECRETARY:
 I know your type. 

(A schoolgirl, The Damsel, is listening at the public counter.)

COURTNEY,
The Damsel : 
She wishes. 

SECRETARY: 
Be quiet, you. 

[Maths classroom]
DANNY: 
So that's all the questions on page 32, 
except the last one, and then everything on page 33. 
All that in for Thursday. Any questions? 


FLEMING: 
Sir? Have you ever killed a man? 

(Groans from the rest of the class.)

DANNY: 
I was a soldier. 
There were other soldiers 
and some of them weren't on our side. 
I shall leave the rest to your imagination. 
And, please, think of another question? 

FLEMING: 
Okay. Have you ever killed anyone who wasn't a soldier? 

DANNY: 
Just to repeat, that's all the questions on page 32, except the last one, and then everything on page 33. 
All that in for Thursday. Is everyone clear? 

CLASS: 
Yes, sir.
(The class watch a lone tear roll down Danny's cheek.)


[Staff room]


(The staff are putting on their coats to leave. Clara is discussing timetables with the headmaster.)

CLARA: 
Fine, I'll take that class and then, they can do some of the test. 

ARMITAGE: 
I know. Oh, Clara, you've not met Danny Pink yet? 
New fella, maths. Danny? 
Clara Oswald. 

CLARA: 
Hey.

ARMITAGE: 
English. 

DANNY: 
Hey, nice to meet you. 

CLARA: 
You too. 

ARMITAGE: 
Want to watch yourself around him. 
Bit of a lady-killer, but always denies it. 

DANNY: 
I am not a lady-killer. 

ARMITAGE: 
See what I mean?
Oh, Beth, can I have a word? 

BETH [OC]: 
Yeah, yeah, sure. 

CLARA: 
Er, was it you that I saw outside doing the soldiery thing? 

DANNY: 
Ah yeah, probably. 
The Coal Hill Cadets. Just a bit of fun. 

CLARA: 
What, teaching them how to shoot people? 

DANNY: 
There's a bit more to modern soldiering than just shooting people. 
I like to think there's a moral dimension. 

CLARA: 
Ah, you shoot people then cry about it afterwards? 

DANNY: 
Ah. 

CLARA: 
Something wrong? 

DANNY: 
Nothing, no. Sorry, no, nothing. 
I just. I didn't think they'd say anything, that's all. 

CLARA: 
Sorry? 

DANNY: 
Have they told everyone? 

CLARA: 
No, no, no. 
As far as I know, nobody has told anybody anything. 
What are you talking about? 

DANNY: 
Why did you just say the crying thing? 

CLARA: 
I was being funny. 

DANNY: 
Why? 

CLARA: 
I just do that. 

DANNY: 
Why? 

CLARA: 
I don't know. 

DANNY: 
Anyway I, er, 
I've left some stuff in my class. 

CLARA: 
Okay, see you. 

DANNY: 
See you. 

CLARA: 
Er, are you going to the, er, leaving thing tonight for Cathy? 

DANNY: 
Um. 


[Maths classroom]

DANNY: 
Yeah. I wasn't going, but I am now, because you're going to be there, and suddenly it seems like the best idea ever. 

[Staff room]


DANNY: 
No, I'm not. 

CLARA: 
Oh, okay, never mind. 

DANNY: 
Good night. 

CLARA: 
Change your mind. 

DANNY: 
Excuse me? 

CLARA: 
I'm going. Er, I'll give you a lift. 
Why not? 


[Maths classroom]


DANNY: 
Actually, now that you mention it, seems like the best plan ever.
 Thank you. 


[Staff room]


DANNY: 
No, I've got some reading. 

CLARA: 
Ah, okay. Maybe some other time, then? 


[Maths classroom]

DANNY: 
Thank you!

(He bangs his forehead on his desk.) 

CLARA: 
Ahem. 
Is the wooden sound you or or the desk? 

DANNY: 
How long have you been there? 

CLARA: 
Longer than you would like. 

DANNY: 
Okay. 

CLARA: 
Are you going to look that terrified when you take me out for a drink? 

DANNY: 
I, I absolutely promise I won't. 

CLARA: 
Play your cards right and you might.



Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes — 
men who despise you — 
enslave you — who regiment your lives — 
tell you what to do — what to think or what to feel! 
Who drill you, diet you, 
treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. 

Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men — 
machine-men with machine minds 
and machine hearts! 

You are not machines! 
You are not cattle! 
You are men! 

You have the love of humanity in your hearts. 
You don't hate! Only the unloved hate — 
The unloved and the unnatural! 


Soldiers! 
Don't fight for slavery! Fight for liberty! 

In the 17th Chapter of St. Luke it is written: 
"the Kingdom of God is within Man" — 
not one man nor a group of men, 
but in all men! In you! 

You, the people have the power — 
The power to create machines. 
The power to create happiness! 

You, the people, have the power 
to make this life free and beautiful, 
to make this life a wonderful adventure. 

Sunday, 7 October 2018

Jodie Won't Fail



" Each Life creates The Next - no wonder Time Lords and Buddhists get on so well. " 

- The Chorister

"The Old Man must die;
and The New Man Will Discover,
to his inexpressible joy,
that He has never existed...!"

- Buddhist/Time Lord Aphorism
K'Ampo Rimpoche

"This is above all Strangeness..."
" This Doctor keeps cropping up all over the place. 

Political diaries, conspiracy theories, even ghost stories. No first name, no last name, just The Doctor. 

Always The Doctor. 

And the title seems to have been passed down from Father to Son. 

It appears to be an inheritance.... "

- Clive Finch, 2005


Not-Shakespeare :
Perhaps it's time I wrote about Fathers and Sons
in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet. 


MARTHA: 
Hamnet? 


Not-Shakespeare :
That's him. 


MARTHA: 
Hamnet


Not-Shakespeare :
What's wrong with that? 


Old Grandfather


The Cosmic Hobo


The Established Dandy

The Exception That is The Rule

The Chorister

The Colourful Jester

Time's Champion

Life's Champion

Intermezzo

"You were The Doctor on The Day it Was Impossible to Be The Doctor"

The Designated Survivor

Perfect-10
( The Life So Nice, I Lived it Twice )

The Chin

Dr. Disco - The Wait of The Whirled

(Davros is crying.)

Dr. Disco :
Okay, don't ever tell anyone that I did this...

(He waves his hand around until a golden glow forms.)

Dr. Disco :
A little bit of regeneration energy.

Probably cost me an arm or a leg somewhere down the line.

Or, I'll just be really little....





The Wait of The Whirled: 
Sontarans! Perverting the Course of Human History! 

I Don't Want to Go. 

When The Doctor, When The Doctor Was Me. 

When The Doctor Was Me. 

It's starting. 
I'm regenerating. 

No! No! No! No! No! No! 

(The Regeneration stops, and The TARDIS has materialised.


The Wait of The Whirled: 
Where have you taken me? 
If you're trying to make a point, I'm not listening. 

I Don't Want to Change Again. 

Never Again! 

I Can't Keep on Being Somebody Else. 

Wherever it is, I'm staying. 

( He runs outside and the Cloister Bell sounds. )

[Snowstorm]

The Wait of The Whirled: 
No! 

( He plunges his hands into the snow with a sizzle - )

( HE HEALS THE EARTH )

( The Regeneration stops again. ) 

The Wait of The Whirled: 
I Will Not Change. 

Old Grandfather: 
I Will Not Change.
I Will Not!
No, no, no, no. 
The Whole Thing's ridiculous. 

The Wait of The Whirled: 
Hello? Is someone there? 

Old Grandfather: 
Who is that? 

The Wait of The Whirled: 
I'm The Doctor. 

(The elderly figure in checked trousers, cape, scarf and astrakhan hat comes into view.

Old Grandfather : 
The Doctor...? 
Oh, I don't think so. 
No, dear me, no. 


Old Grandfather : 
You may be a doctor, 
but I am The Doctor
The Original, you might say!


The Woman.

"The Old Man must die * ;
and The Woman Will Discover,
to Her inexpressible joy,
that She has never existed...!

...and so She says :

'Oh, brilliant...!' indeed, matey!


" To Sherlock Holmes she is always The Woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. 

It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. 

But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. 

And yet there was but One Woman to him.

I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition...

*****

"What a Woman—oh, what a Woman!” cried the King of Bohemia, when we had all three read this epistle.
"Did I not tell you how quick and resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? Is it not a pity that she was not on my level?”

“From what I have seen of The Lady, she seems, indeed, to be on a very different level to your Majesty,” said Holmes coldly.

[ He ain't kidding... ]

“I am sorry that I have not been able to bring your Majesty’s business to a more successful conclusion.”

On the contrary, my dear sir,” cried the King; “nothing could be more successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The photograph is now as safe as if it were in the fire.

“I am glad to hear your Majesty say so.  Because I failed - She beat me.  And She knows that She did. And then didn't rub my nose in it by gloating over having humiliated and emasculated me (and The King) in front of my client and employer - who is The King. And a Fool. ]

“I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way I can reward you. This ring—” He slipped an emerald snake ring from his finger and held it out upon the palm of his hand.

[ What a Tool... ]

“Your Majesty has something which I should value even more highly,” said Holmes.

“You have but to name it.”

“This photograph!”

The King stared at him in amazement.
Irene’s photograph!” he cried. “Certainly, if you wish it.”

“I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the matter. I have the honour to wish you a very good morning.” He bowed, and, turning away without observing the hand which the King had stretched out to him, he set off in my company for his chambers. 

And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom of Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a woman’s wit. He used to make merry over the cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it of late. And when he speaks of Irene Adler, or when he refers to her photograph, it is always under the honourable title of The Woman.

[ * Letting go, as He does so, to thelast  physical renmant of the mourning of The Memory of Prof. River Song ]



The Woman


Our Lady