"...just an errant wish..."

sentences.

“do you hear that?”

“was that a dog?”

“it's a toothy trip, for sure. you don't even know where you'll end up.”

“i don't like how dark it's getting.”

“quick, do you have a light?”

“is that a flare in the distance?”

“it's a full moon, i think we're safe.”

“that plant is staring at me.”

“what a tall house... whose is it?”

“i think this needs more of a scientific basis.”

“careful with that axe.”

“urgent question. whose hand was that?”

“do you have any gold?”

“are those berries safe to eat?”

“is that a... cat?”

“are you feeling alright?”

“are you mental?”

“what an ugly creature.”

“i don't think we should head near that den.”

scenarios.

[ sc/quake ] for both muses to feel the ground tremble beneath them.

[ sc/meteor shower ] for receiver to notice a meteor inbound for both muses.

[ sc/drizzle ] for both muses to be caught outside in a rainstorm.

[ sc/drought ] for both muses to be caught outside during a heat wave.

[ sc/shiver ] for both muses to be caught in a snowstorm.

[ sc/cave-in ] for both muses, who were spelunking, to feel the cavern shake as rocks begin fall.

[ sc/combustion ] for receiver to notice that an object, belonging to the sender, has caught fire.

[ sc/giant ] for the muses to notice a large monster lurking on the path that they need to go.

[ sc/hunt ] for the muses to stumble across an odd looking footprint trail.

actions.

[ act/rile up ] for sender to tap an angry receiver's shoulder and direct them towards [something/one].

[ act/soothe ] for sender to lay a hand on receiver's arm to try and pull them away in order to calm them.

[ act/whistle ] for sender to whistle sharply to get receiver's attention.

[ act/shoo ] for sender to try and wave off receiver, dismissing them.

[ act/kindle ] for receiver to notice sender is attempting to start a fire.

[ act/sane? ] for sender to notice receiver is acting strange, and approach them with a look of concern.

[ act/give ] for sender to present receiver with [insert object] as a gift.

[ act/pantomime ] for sender to try and act out [insert thing] to receiver.

[ act/attack ] for sender to attempt to harm receiver with a weapon.

@errantwish​ asked: “ you’re a little trickster, aren’t you?”

for animal muses.

—❁—

B.J’s remark was met with an uproarious laughing fit, muffled a bit from within his cupped hands. She couldn’t help it: Chase was one of Melody’s favorite games, and all that time spent playing it with her father trained her well. Though, on this occasion:

"Well, I gotcha, you little rascal," B.J chuckled. This little one's laughter was real damn contagious. Was it really a wonder, given all that he had seen in his time, that he could find friendship in something like this?

The knight turned around silently. He did not reach for his sheathed sword, though his mind and body both screamed at him to do so. This wolf-man, he could tell at a glance, was supernatural. Or, perhaps more accurately, he was the most natural thing in the world: death. His death, that was, should this wolfman want it so.

For a moment, the wolf doesn't respond - at least, not with words. Instead, he whistles, a haunting melody leaving pursed lips as he takes the opportunity to approach Antonius, closing the gap between them.

(Death does not strike, however - not yet.)

Antonius swallowed a lump in his throat— when had his blood turned to ice in his veins?! Why, when he met this creature, no, this inevitability, of course— and kept his blond head high, though the whistled tune haunted him to his very core.

"You are Death. And you are here to claim my spirit from my body."

He didn't draw a sword, or anything of that variety. It would, he knew, be a useless display. Potentially just as useless, he decided to ask a question, test his luck.

@errantwish​ continued from here.

–

B.J sighed heavily, shaking his head.

“You want the real report on how things’re goin’ on the front, or you want me to tell you all’s fine and fuckin’ dandy?”

He took a canteen from his side— not a water canteen, filled with whiskey, which wasn’t his typical fare, but it was what they had— and took a swig.

“Sorry, Sarge. Didn’t mean to snap at you. Ain’t angry with you. Just… this war won’t fuckin’ stop. We think we’re takin’ a step forward, Deathshead and the rest of the krauts’re a dozen ahead of us. Can’t keep up. Not with that tech they got.”

Had their visit to the X-Labs even slowed ‘em at all? Fuck. He hoped so.

“Just… checkin’ in on you. I know 'fore you left, you came to me, talkin’ bout some… heavy subjects. Wanted to make sure you’re alright, soldier.”

No, not soldier. Max.

–

      “ Ooohoho, believe me, do I fuckin’ kno’ things ain’t goin’ good. I got cut into by Deathfuck n’ now I hate bein’ on these cots. ” He pointed his flask to him with a huff, “ N’ we lost Dylan, too– Atkinson?… poor son of a bitch. ” His eyes flicked away for a moment, perhaps to hold back any tears. Lots’a people Max knew. Lots he couldn’t see anymore.

      Eyes drifting back to B.J, he just managed a grin, “ I getya, tho’, don’t worry… but if it helps? They got Operation Wolfstone comin’ up from what I hear. OSA’s really lookin’ fer the topdogs right now– I’m guessin’ they’ll send you’s n’ maybe Cap’n Wesley. I’ll be thrown t’uh Wulfburg– Old High German n’ all that. N’ Latin. Jeeesus, lucky suns’uh bitches, wit’ me bein’ able to translate that shit– only reason I’m lucky is ‘cause we got some roots in English in there. Crazy stuff, y’kno’ how much we just kinda– take shit from others? Latin? French? Fuckin’ Old German? Crazy… ” A moment of nerding out, as Max would say– but with a snort he moved to try to sit himself up… though, he grimaced not long afterward as his leg had moved a bit too much for his comfort. “ Fffhhhuck, fuckfuckfuck fuck… ”

      Once he looked up as he now sat himself up in bed, he fluffed his pillow and only finally brought his gaze to B.J’s when he heard the last sentence, making him pause.

      “ … yeah. I am, Cap. ” His voice got rather quiet as a result– perhaps out of character for him, but with the topic? He really wasn’t gonna risk a blue discharge. Walls could be paper-fucking-thin. “ Jus’– I guess tryin’ to wrap my head around it, y’kno’? I– I’m gonna be honest, I expected gettin’ my ass kicked… ”

      Hesitation. But then, a genuine smile instead of that big ol’ grin he’d always put on merely moments before.

      “ Y’really… made it way easier t’a keep fightin’, y’kno’? Jus’ that talk really helped. Really did. Y’wanna sit down n’ jus’ talk the day away? Hope yuh don’t mind me annoyin’ ya– ‘cause now that yuh chose t’uh visit, yer stuck here… muahahaha! ” A halfhearted little evil laugh to boot, as he lifted his three-fingered hand to wiggle his fingers menacingly, “ Now I’ll summon GHOST HITLER on yer ass! Ooga-booga-boo, he can’t open doors! ”

Operation Wolfstone— what may have very well been the last stand of the Allies against the rapidly-advancing Nazi war-machine. With all that technology they'd developed thanks to Wilhelm Strasse, the whole damn rest of the world was beginning to get outclassed and outgunned. B.J's shoulders stiffened, but he did his damndest not to show his subordinate— no, friend— that apprehension. America will never fold. It can't. Ain't the America he knows that would do something like that— America was to Blazkowicz a proud nation of patriots, with the fighting spirit in their blood. Especially fighting against tyranny. Them, the Brits, French, Canadians; hell, even the communists in Russia... they had to win this war. They fuckin' had to. He had been thinking like a fuckin' quitter before. He took another small swig of whiskey.

He put a hand on Max's shoulder, squeezed it tight, and smiled. "We'll get 'em. We'll get 'em good," he said, gravely Texan twang in full-swing. "With Max fuckin' Bennett against 'em, they ain't no match. Maybe his ol' Captain Blazkowicz can help, too. And Wesley. Wing Commander Reid. All of us. Whatever the hell kinda whacky summon you got up that sleeve of yours, I'm sure it'll knock 'em dead."

‘ let’s go again. ’

‘ i’m not done yet. ’

‘ you’re focusing too much with your left/right foot. ’

‘ here, try it again. ’

‘ steady your breathing. ’

‘ you’re getting better. ’

‘ you’re getting sloppy. ’

‘ show me what you’ve got. ’

‘ too slow. ’

‘ you’re moving too fast! ’

‘ watch me first. ’

‘ no, hold the gun/staff like this. ’

‘ straighten your posture. ’

‘ am i too stiff? ’

‘ i’m don’t think i’m getting this. ’

‘ it’s six am. it’s time to train. ’

‘ i don’t need your help. ’  

‘ i can train by myself, thanks. ’

‘ i’m just trying to help you. ’

‘ that’s right. let it all out. ’

‘ you’re letting your emotions control you. ’

‘ clear your mind. ’

‘ we’re done for today. ’

‘ good job out there. ’

‘ i think you’re already better than me. ’

‘ no offense. you’re good, but you’ll never be better than me. ’

‘ stretch first, then we’ll get started. ’

‘ wait for my word, then throw the first punch. ’

‘ teach me that move. ’

‘ i want to learn from you. ’

"Give me frogs, flies, locusts, anything but this! Compared to you, the other plagues were a joy!"

"I'm sorry, it was an accident."

"You are a catastrophe! Why do I put up with you?"

"Have you no respect for the dead?"

"Where did you get this?"

"My whole life I've never found anything. [name], tell me I've found something."

"it's all fairy tales and hokum."

"Two questions. Who the hell is [name]? And is he rich?"

"You lied to me!"

"I lie to everybody, what makes you so special?"

"How do we know that's not a load of pig swallow?"

"What did you find? What did you see?"

"Any last requests, pig?"

"Personally, I think he's filthy, rude and a complete scoundrel. I don't like him one bit."

"Smashing day for the start of an adventure, eh, [name]?"

"Yes, yes, you're right, filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel, nothing to like there at all."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to protect my investment, thank you very much."

"I only gamble with my life, never my money."

"What makes you so confident?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya."

"The only thing that scares me, [name], are your manners."

"Still angry that I kissed ya, huh?"

"Did I miss something? Are we going into battle?"

"The last time I was at that place everybody I was with died."

"Why if it ain't my little buddy, [name]. I outta kill you."

"You never were any good with the ladies, [name]."

"You always did have more balls than brains."

"[Name]! I am going to kill you for this!"

"All night you snored!"

"Ah, begging your pardon, but shouldn't we be going?"

"That thing gives me the creeps."

"Do you realize we are standing inside a room that no one has entered in over four thousand years?"

"That is a neat trick."

"Ten to one, [name], your odds are no-so-good."

"Let's be nice, children. If we're going to play together, we must learn to share."

"Whoever's in here, sure wasn't getting out."

"Maybe this place really is cursed."

"Don't believe in curses, huh?"

"I believe if I can see it and I can touch it, then it's real. That's what I believe."

"Going somewhere?"

"Leave this place! Leave this place or die!"

"I may not be an explorer, or an adventurer, or a treasure hunter, or a gunfighter, [name], but I'm proud of what I am."

"No!!! You must not read from the book!"

"What have we done?"

"Oh, [name]. Thank goodness. I was just starting to get scared. I've lost everyone."

"There's gotta be a switch or something around here someplace."

"Run, you sons of bitches, run!"

"There you are! Will you quit playing hide-and-seek?! Let's get out of here!"

"Did you see that? It was walking. It was walking!"

"I told you, leave or die. You refused."

"What am I to you? A contract?"

"You can either tag along with me or you can stay here and try and save the world."

"We are in serious trouble."

"What is he doing here?"

"Do you really want to know, or would you prefer to just shoot us?"

"Yes, that is very romantic, but what has it got to do with me?"

"This may just give us the time we need to kill the creature."

"This door doesn't open. No one gets. out. Right?"

"Lemme guess. Spring cleaning?"

"What's in it for you, huh?"

"So it has begun, the beginning of the end."

"You better think of something fast, because if he turns me into a [thing], you're the first one I'm coming after."

"Take my hand, and I will spare your friends."

"I'll be seeing you again."

"Hey! get your ugly face off of her!"

"You're gonna get yours, [name]! You hear me?! You're gonna get yours!"

"Live today, fight tomorrow."

"See that? I've never seen one so big."

"Stop it! You'll kill them!"

"Nasty little vermin such as yourself always get their comeuppance."

"Do something! Do something! Not that! Not that!"

"Damn. These guys just don't quit, do they?"

"With your death, [name] shall live. And I shall be invincible!"

" What're you going to do with that little thing, stab me? I saved your life! " An offended huff, and in moments, he marched his way along to the console with a little grumble, " Shouldn't be surprised, Londoners are always like that. You're in my CONSOLE ROOM. Time machine, call it what you'd like, bigger on the inside-- things like that! Not even a little thank-you? I was a fan, heard all about what you did with the Red Queen and everything! "

Well, Reid was undoubtedly going to deal with attitude now. A flick of the switch, the doors were shut, and soon enough... they were on their way! He hated the blue stabilizers, though, but he'd might as well not spook the man too much.

With him huffing once again, he scrunched his nose in a bit of distaste towards Reid, " Excuse me, " He continued, opting to jab him a bit further about the issue as he now no doubt felt a bit petty at being met with a sudden threat, " do you mind NOT aiming a machete at me when I saved your life and plan on getting you home? "

There went his one damn way out. Jonathan scowled, and reluctantly returned the machete to its holster. There was in this other man something he had never seen before, something he had to vocalize aloud: "You have two hearts."

He paused, and took stock of the situation. It was not as though he had any option to leave now, and he would much rather be here than fighting for his life against Priwen's hunters.

"So you're not some vampire hunter here to kill me? With all due respect, I apologize for having drawn my weapon on you. These are dangerous times. However, I would rather prefer you don't tell me you're going to get me involved in some fight that isn't mine, Sir."

He reluctantly walked towards the strange console, all manner of lights and bits and bobs flashing upon it. It was like nothing Dr. Reid had ever seen before.

@errantwish sent:

Sanctuary (—Dr. Reid)

send me   “sanctuary“    for my muse ( receiver’s )  to pull yours  (sender’s)  into their house to protect them from an approaching danger /  a bad storm or disaster / etc. 

A hand reached out from an oddly-placed police box, grasping at Dr. Reid's hand as it seemed as though the Priwen hunters had fully closed in on the famed surgeon in the pattering rain, some alleyway in Whitechapel from what could be gathered by his surroundings-- but then, in seconds, Dr. Reid's whole world changed insurmountably.

A console room-- completely different from the flu-ridden London Dr. Reid had been used to, of wooden floors and wallpaper on walls-- this was much different. Floors and walls of metal with a coral-like theme. The walls were golden with small hexagonal sections, with a grand alien console in the center that had a cyan-turquoise glow, contrasting heavily with the orange glow from the walls, with coral-like arches that surrounded the circular floor the console was on.

What met him, in terms of people, though, was a man. A man with big ears, a big nose, a velvet or leather jacket with rather short hair, practically only resembling the hairline. Eyes looked at Dr. Reid, up and down in curiosity-- with eyes of a madman and yet, eyes that held so much knowledge. It was like he'd seen the birth of the universe, the beginnings of stars and the end of the world-- all of the history of the universe in those eyes, a sadness and yet filled with its own sense of excitement upon looking over Jonathan.

" Well! " Came his voice-- a northern English accent, notably-- " Do-ctor Reid... famous blood surgeon of the first World War-- great fan of your studies, love the whole blood samples being used to make serums tactic, absolutely brilliant, fantastic, even!-- though, I can only presume those blokes weren't exactly fans of... well, all of that. Too Gothic for their tastes? "

A cry came from Dr. Reid as he was grabbed and pulled somewhere, and yet, instead of the pain of dying to Priwen guard dogs, there was no pain at all. There was only the whir of machinery, and a bright room before him which had quite literally to him appeared out of nowhere.

Jonathan had saved the world once, averted the Disaster of the Red Queen. In that time, he had grown quite tired of being a pawn in the schemes of others, notably, Myrddin, and vowed to forge his own path. He took a deep breath, put a partially-closed hand to his heart to heal himself, and then— well, then, his mysterious, large-eared and buzzed-haired savior was looked upon with skepticism and distrust. He drew the machete from its holster on his hips, and held it out defensively, threatening to strike. He was not going to be made into anyone's plaything again.

Everybody lives, Rose... Just this once! EVERYBODY LIVES!

Indie 9th Doctor from the Doctor Who Series

headcanon and media/show-based

semi-selective

OC/Canon Friendly

written by Ken

established 5/29/2023

follows back from @kcnhub.

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