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Meme: DVD Commentary

All the cool kids are doing it.  Ganked fromwendymr . 

Pick a paragraph (or any passage less than 500 words) from any fanfic I've written, and comment to this post with that selection. I will then give you a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what's going on in the character's heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you'd expect to find on a DVD commentary track.

Use the master fic list at the top of my LJ, or go to Teaspoon.


( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 6th, 2010 03:17 am (UTC)
The Wife's Tale
I'll bite!

Of course I love him. He's exactly the sort of man that I was always destined to love, only... more. More attractive, more charismatic, more powerful. I knew it even before he revealed who he truly is, before he showed me the truth that lies at the end of everything.

When I am with him I am so aware of being small, and human, and insignificant, like a mote of dust beside a mountain. Every day, I feel myself shrinking. Someday, I will shrink down to nothingness. Then -- finally -- I will feel safe.

Of course I love him.

Maybe i'll do this one, too.
Nov. 6th, 2010 04:15 am (UTC)
Re: The Wife's Tale
Interesting choice. Of the 33 Valiant Tales, only 3 are told from the POV of canon characters. Lucy Saxon is an intriguing character. She gets very little screen time, and even less dialogue. It's never clear how much of her attachment to the Master was hypnosis, how much was the seduction of power, and how much was genuine attraction (I hesitate to call it love).

In my view,Lucy had an unstable personality to begin with. Her mental state was made worse by an abusive relationship with a charismatic psychopath. She tried to save herself by embracing the role he created for her: a tiny, unimportant creature in the shadow of a godlike being.

What I tried to do here was to show Lucy in the depths of denial and self-abnegation, but with a hint of her saner side fighting for survival.
Nov. 6th, 2010 03:19 am (UTC)
From Haggard:

The second time Jack runs, he plans it carefully. He has a hiding place that no one knows about. (What you don't know, you can't betray.) He has two different routes to the spaceport in the high desert, three different ships that are willing to take him on, and four backup plans. In his coat pocket, he has a spray canister of a substance that will put most oxygen breathers out for an hour. It should work on a Time Lord. And since it's absorbed through the skin, respiratory bypass is no protection.

When he walks into the delivery bay of Cray-Tech Spacelines, he sees a large crate marked Caution! Extremely hazardous! Sitting on top of the crate is an extremely annoyed Time Lord. "You're late," the Doctor snaps. "I was beginning to worry."

Jack chokes back an impulse to laugh. The Oncoming Storm, playing mother hen. "Thank you for your concern," he says in a smooth tone that doesn't quite disguise his bitterness, "but as you can see, I'm fine." He slips his hands in his pockets and surreptitiously touches the canister of knock-out spray.

The Doctor holds out one hand. "Give that to me." His voice hardens. "Now, please."

Carefully, Jack removes the canister from his pocket. It's not too late to use it. The Doctor may have better-than-human reflexes, but Jack can still press a button faster than the Time Lord can cross two metres of sun-softened tarmac. Still, he hesitates. How the hell does he know what I've got?

The Doctor answers his unspoken question. "I know everything that goes on in my TARDIS." He continues to hold out his hand. "You don't want to use that, Jack."

Anger bubbles up in him. "What I want, Doctor, is my freedom."

The Doctor's voice is weary. "We don't always get what we want, Captain."

Jack feels a flash of fear, and he's not sure why. Then he looks into eyes that are dark and full of ancient pain, and he understands. That isn't the Oncoming Storm sitting there, but the Destroyer of Worlds. He's pitting his will against that of a being who wiped out his own species for the good of the Universe. Slowly, and following proper protocol for surrendering a weapon, he holds out the canister.

The Doctor takes it and nods stiffly. "Thank you." Then in one smooth motion, he points the nozzle at himself and presses the button. A fine mist engulfs his head, leaving clear droplets on his face. He smiles. "Blimey, that feels good." His smile broadens at Jack's horrified reaction. "What? Oh, this? It's distilled water. You don't think I'd let you go wandering about with a Class Five anaesthetic, do you? Someone might get hurt." He slips off the crate with the careless grace of a child jumping off a swing. "Back to the TARDIS, now."

As Jack follows behind the Doctor, he feels something deep inside him begin to crack.
Nov. 7th, 2010 05:14 am (UTC)
I confess you surprised me with your choice, as I know this story disturbed you. All right, then . . .

This Doctor feels the burden of being the only Time Lord left to maintain the Web of Time. He's convinced himself that Jack (immortal, impossible, wrong Jack) is a potential danger to the Universe, and needs to be kept under close supervision. Jack's ironic thought that the Doctor is acting like a Mother Hen isn't too far off. The Doctor feels responsible for Jack -- he also feels that he's older and wiser and entitled to tell him what to do.

In this scene, the Doctor's brilliant plan is to show Jack that his attempts to escape are futile, that the Doctor will always out-think him, and that Jack should be a good boy and do as he's told. Naturally, he overdoes it by a hundredfold, and leaves Jack feeling helpless and desperate.

Having the Doctor sitting on a crate labelled "Extremely hazardous" was my joke, because it describes him very well. The Doctor didn't notice it -- or rather, he noticed it (he notices everything), but didn't connect it to himself.

The knock-out spray is Jack's attempt to solve one of his biggest problems: he doesn't want to hurt the Doctor. As angry as he is with the Doctor, Jack knows that the Time Lord is a force for good in the Universe.

(TV commercial announcer: "We've secretly replaced Jack's knock-out spray with distilled water. Let's see if he notices!")

Replacing the contents of the canister was a precaution on the Doctor's part. Spraying himself with it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. He just couldn't resist showing off how terribly clever he'd been.
Nov. 7th, 2010 03:53 pm (UTC)
It's not that the fic disturbs me, so much as that I want it to be fixed. I want Jack to feel loved, not controlled, and I want my happy OT3 back :) So you've set up a classic angsty start to what I hope will be eventual hurt-comfort, and I want the comfort. Make sense?

You've given me the characters' motivations here, but what about their feelings? Jack doesn't want to hurt the Doctor, yet the Doctor doesn't seem to have worried too much about hurting him. As for the Doctor, why is he playing this in such a cat-and-mouse way? Why didn't he, right at the start, just sit Jack down and tell him what he's afraid of and why he needs Jack to stay around - and do it in such a way that he doesn't come across as quite such an arrogant bastard?

Sure, some of these issues may be points for the eventual sequel, so I'd understand if you don't want to discuss them here - but it would be nice to get a little deeper into the characters' overall motivations and feelings :)

Nov. 7th, 2010 03:06 am (UTC)
from Ghosts of Gallifrey

It has been a long time -- Oh, such a long time! -- since he has felt the delight of bodies and minds so closely intertwined that he can scarcely tell which ripple of pleasure comes from his own flesh, and which from his lovers'. The pleasure is all the greater because the humans have never experienced anything like this. Even for Jack, interstellar Casanova though he is, this is unfamiliar territory.

A fragment of memory drifts by: Jack wrapped in the six arms of a Rhodian, her telepathic projections enveloping him in a vivid fantasy that would have been the envy of holovid producers in four galaxies. That was great, but this is-- oh god oh god ohgodohgod-- Jack holds his breath, then exhales forcefully as Rose's orgasm reverberates through the pleasure center of his brain.

Rose is making soft breathy moans while her mindvoice is nearly shouting with desire and joy. One thought floats to the surface, tinged with mischief and just a little embarrassment. She hastily tugs it back down out of sight, but not before he catches a glimpse. We can try that sometime, if you want, he thinks at her, trying to sound unsurprised.

Jack, of course, can't keep his mouth shut, even when his mouth is shut (or otherwise occupied). Why, Rose Tyler, where did you get such a naughty idea?

Rose reaches over and does something with her quick, clever hands that leaves Jack unable to speak coherently, telepathically or out loud.

Thought you'd have learnt by now not to aggravate her, Jack, the Doctor teases. Like good old Rudyard said, 'the female of the species is more deadly than the male'.

I'll show you aggravation, Rose promises, and she proceeds to demonstrate to both of them that the female of the species is frequently sneakier than the male.
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )



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