Title: 'The Wrongness'
Fandom: Doctor Who/Welcome to Night Vale
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
but_can_i_be_trusted
Rating: G
Challenge: #27: John Prine Song Titles ('Crooked Piece Of Time') (crossposted to![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
whatif_au)
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: The TARDIS doesn't like this place.
The TARDIS doesn't like this place. Under some circumstances, the Doctor would willingly chalk that down to the old girl occasionally displaying an odd bit of finickiness about where he pilots her. A bit of live-and-let-live, agree-to-disagree, though, will usually set things straight.
In this particular instance, however, the Doctor finds that he can't very well blame her. What looks like a perfectly ordinary desert community has something lurking just beneath the surface. Something that's getting under his own skin.
He can taste the wrongness at the back of his tongue. Time is wonky here. Askew. It's gone crooked, in every way he can imagine--and probably in several ways that he can't. There are too many potential realities at work in this small town.
Coming here was a mistake. And, much as the Doctor would ordinarily enjoy satisfying his curiosity about what leaves things so desperately out of sorts wherever he goes, he knows that staying here would be a far, far worse mistake than coming could ever have been.
"Let's get out of here," he mutters under his breath, setting the TARDIS' engines going. The sooner he can put this peculiar Night Vale behind him, the better.
In other news, listeners, a strange blue box was spotted at the edge of town early this evening. No one was able to get any closer, however, due to its vanishing as suddenly as it arrived.
Peculiar, inexplicable art installation? Advertising ploy that forgot its own punchline? It's anybody's guess.
And now, the weather...
Fandom: Doctor Who/Welcome to Night Vale
Author:
but_can_i_be_trustedRating: G
Challenge: #27: John Prine Song Titles ('Crooked Piece Of Time') (crossposted to
whatif_au)Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: The TARDIS doesn't like this place.
The TARDIS doesn't like this place. Under some circumstances, the Doctor would willingly chalk that down to the old girl occasionally displaying an odd bit of finickiness about where he pilots her. A bit of live-and-let-live, agree-to-disagree, though, will usually set things straight.
In this particular instance, however, the Doctor finds that he can't very well blame her. What looks like a perfectly ordinary desert community has something lurking just beneath the surface. Something that's getting under his own skin.
He can taste the wrongness at the back of his tongue. Time is wonky here. Askew. It's gone crooked, in every way he can imagine--and probably in several ways that he can't. There are too many potential realities at work in this small town.
Coming here was a mistake. And, much as the Doctor would ordinarily enjoy satisfying his curiosity about what leaves things so desperately out of sorts wherever he goes, he knows that staying here would be a far, far worse mistake than coming could ever have been.
"Let's get out of here," he mutters under his breath, setting the TARDIS' engines going. The sooner he can put this peculiar Night Vale behind him, the better.
In other news, listeners, a strange blue box was spotted at the edge of town early this evening. No one was able to get any closer, however, due to its vanishing as suddenly as it arrived.
Peculiar, inexplicable art installation? Advertising ploy that forgot its own punchline? It's anybody's guess.
And now, the weather...
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