The Last of the Time Lords

Premise/Background

So, I've had this character in my head since I first started watching Doctor Who.  Usually, my fan fictions get morphed into completely original works, but this character just never seemed to want to divorce herself from the show.

I'd already planned to turn it into a serial on Wattpad before discovering this class, but this has given me ideas on how to proceed.

Target Audience

Doctor Who fans will, of course, be my primary audience.  It will probably cater more toward female audiences, specifically 18-35 years of age.

Short Blurb

Abbie had spent a lifetime trying to pretend she was human.  When a fellow alien convinces her to use the TARDIS her mother stole a lifetime ago, it opens her life to a world of wonder... and pain.

Long Blurb

At a glance, Abigail Gabrielle Hart is an ordinary woman.  She goes to work, fusses about her weight, and often has to chase the guys off with a stick.  But a chance encounter with David has her confessing what she is, to him and to herself.  Abby is a Time Lord, and hidden somewhere in the wilderness of Europe is a device that will change their lives forever. 

David, haunted by the sacrifice his parents made when he was just a child, convinces Abby to use the TARDIS, to step away from the ordinary life she'd created for herself and strive for greatness.

But David isn't the only one who's haunted by the past.  There's a reason Abby has lived the life she has, a reason she's forsaken her heritage.  And some doors are best left Deadlock sealed.

Cover

I'm not 100% happy with my cover.  I refuse to use material without clear rights, and because this in a fan fiction, I feel like that limited my options as it has to pull back into the original universe.  Still, the image I found reminds me of the time vortex, and I think that was promising.

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Marketing/Branding

On an impulse today, I did some modifications to my branding.  Changed background images on Wattpad and Twitter, and completely updated my website.

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Story

The first chapter ended up being just under 1500 words.  I'm not sure I pulled off the whole leaving the reader curious without doing a cliffhanger thing.  I'll be posting this on Wattpad soon, but haven't done so yet.

Episode 1.1: Worlds Collide

This shirt was going to kill her. Abby tugged at the hem, but it just creeped right back up again, exposing a small patch of midriff, much to her chagrin. Nobody needed to see that, even if she’d gotten three wolf calls just walking down the street. She sighed, and settled for holding her shirt down so it wouldn’t roll up once more. She looked stupid, but clothes designers designed clothes for size zeros, not size fourteens, and something always got lost scaling up.

A horn blared at she jumped back, tripping on the curb, and landing on her cushioned backside, her heart pounding in her throat from the close call.

“Oh, my God. Are you alright?” a bystander said.

Abby resisted the urge to slug the person. Why did people always seem to use that exact phrasing? She wasn’t clumsy, but she was accident-prone, and she heard it far more often than she would like. “It’s all good.” She stood, brushed herself off, and checked both ways before crossing the street this time.

Her butt hurt, and her ankle throbbed a bit from where it connected with the curb, but it would pass soon enough. And within moments, it did. She crossed the street, pranced onto the next sidewalk, and kept going as if nothing had happened.

Then her shirt rolled up again, and she grabbed it to pull it back down.

Okay, this is proof. God hates me.

The shirt had been cute when she’d tried it on, and she could have sworn it didn’t ride up like this in the dressing room. She just had too many curves. Abby looked best in tight clothes, clothes that hugged all those curves, but too tight, and this happened.

Her phone chirped, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. It never went off. A few times, she’d signed up for various messaging services and alerts just to feel a little less alone… and to justify the monthly cost of a smart phone. Good Lord, those things were expensive.

A text message from her boss: Could you pick up toner on your way in?

Abby sighed and shook her head. Her boss always forgot that she didn’t have a car, that she didn’t drive to work. Abby didn’t like cars. They made her feel slightly claustrophobic, and she justified it by telling people that she was saving the environment. So in good weather, she walked to work. In bad weather, she took the bus. It meant she had to live in downtown, which she hated, but the idea of sitting in traffic just made her shudder.

She sent a quick text back, reminding her boss about her transportation status, and pocketed the phone once more. Abby would get to work, and Carla, her boss, would approach her completely bewildered, as if she hadn’t told the woman a hundred times that she didn’t have a vehicle. It wouldn’t sink in this time either. Carla didn’t want to hear it.

Abby stopped at the next intersection, waiting for the light to change, when screeching brakes made her turn her head, looking behind her. A car veered around the corner behind her. She half expected it to come up on two wheels with how fast it made the turn. The engine roared as it caught traction, gunning down the straightaway.

Her gaze caught movement in the crosswalk. A tall man walked sedately through, headphones in his ears, and his gaze glued to his phone’s screen. She looked back at the car, and with a sinking in her gut knew it was on a crash course to hit the man, and showed no intention of stopping.

Not even thinking, she ran out into the street, dropping her leather messenger bag in her haste, all her focus on the man in the street, a man completely oblivious to the danger heading his way. She kept her gaze over her shoulder, and time seemed to slow, and speed up, and a thousand possible outcomes blurred through her mind. This wasn’t a fixed point. He didn’t have to die.

The distance between her and him seemed impossibly far, and between her and the car impossibly close. Could she make it? She had to. Besides, she could definitely see an outcome where she made it. She would make it.

Abby tried to pick up speed, but her short legs didn’t make it easy. She reached him and shoved, registering the car as a black body that blocked out everything to the left of her.

“Hey!” he cried.

They tumbled together. Abby gasped as pain shot through her leg, but they rolled out of the way, bumping into the curb in a sprawl of arms and legs. She laid their for a few moments, taking in shuddering breaths, trying to breathe through the pain that throbbed sharp and intense from her left leg.

“Jesus,” he said, rolling off of her, and sitting up, and taking out his headphones. “That car almost creamed me.” He looked down at her, a boyish smile that had to drive the ladies crazy gracing his face. “Thanks. I owe you my life. I’m David.”

“Abby.”

She sat up, being careful of her throbbing leg. They were in the road. The light was still red, but wouldn’t be for long. Abby moved herself back onto the sidewalk, ignoring the screaming pain that told her that her leg was probably broken.

The man she’d rescued hovered over her, becoming more alarmed by the second as she cleared the edge of the curb, and nearly collapsed.

“You’re hurt.”

Abby waved it off. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. I can see it in your face.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have done that. I can take care of myself. I would have been fine.”

She laughed, forgetting her leg for a moment. “Fine? You were about to be mowed down by a two ton killing machine. How could you have possibly been fine?”

He squirmed, but didn’t say anything. People looked their way, but didn’t stop—proof positive that at some point the world had gone to hell.

Ignoring her protests, he shifted positions, holding her leg, and gently lifting the leg of her slacks to look for damage. Abby could see the distinct impression of tread marks on her pants, telling her exactly how she’d broken it.

He lifted the material to her knee, and looked away. “Jesus.” But he turned back, and focused on her injury, like a switch had been flipped. “You need to go to a hospital. This looks like an open fracture.”

Oh, this wasn’t good. Abby couldn’t go to a hospital. She would get dissected for sure. The moment they realized she had two hearts they would freak out. And what about her leg? It would heal before they ever got her to the hospital. And if any medical professionals witnessed it? Oh, this was a disaster in the making? Where had she gone wrong?

She tried to move out of his grip, but he help firm, holding her hostage.

“Stay still. You’ll just make it worse.”

“I should go.”

“Abby, you can’t go. You can’t walk.”

“I have to!” she yelled, trying to pull out of his grip in spite of the injury.

“That’s not possible,” he said reverently.

Abby froze, looking down at her leg, knowing what she would see. While previously slightly bent from the break, it had straightened, the gash on her shin had nearly closed up, and the bruises that had rapidly formed had turned yellow and green. She looked David right in the eye, her own wide with horror.

“You’re healing.”

Abby couldn’t place the expression on his face, or the tone in his voice, but her own imagination filled in the blanks, telling her to run, telling her he would hate her, fear her. “Let go!” she said with renewed fervor.

“Abby, Abby, please! Stop!” He changed grips, holding her by the shoulders now. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe with me.”

She tried to break free, but his hands were like iron, unmovable. “Let me go!”

He looked her in the eyes, sincerity bleeding through, and almost setting her at ease. “I mean you no harm.” Keeping one hand on her shoulder, and moving slowly so as not to startle her, he reached out to the sign for the bus stop next to them and bent the metal with his fingers as if it were nothing more than a thin piece of copper wire. “See?”

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