icanbuyafez (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
icanbuyafez) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thoughtformed2012-07-22 09:08 pm
icanbuyafez) wrote in thoughtformed2012-07-22 09:08 pm
Entry tags:
[Private Log]
WHO: Arthur Kirkland/England & The 11th Doctor (The Purifier) - let me know if one of your characters wants in on this
WHAT: Arthur comes across the Doctor's alternate persona and is unprepared for what he finds
WHEN: Some time on the 22nd of September
WHERE: The darkest back-alley in town
WARNINGS: Murder, coarse language, possible trigger subjects
The Purifier was out on the town late that evening, up to his usual exploits. Hunting down information on the Silver Sextant for the Captain was only one of his many goals for the night.
He looked disdainfully around the town; there was so much wrong with this society - poverty, slavery, men and women treating each other without respect or dignity or humanity - and yet nobody did anything to help, to stop it, to reach out. Sure, there was an occasional church or good Samaritan who went about their "good deed" - but even those were usually just token actions, a balm to calm their small consciences. He despised the lot of them.
Like this woman - obviously a person of prestige, given her clothes and the manner in which others address her. She walked by, not oblivious to the poverty and desolation, the slavery, that afflicted those less fortunate than her - but very clearly turning away from them. Ignoring the old man who cried out for a penny. Averting her eyes from each scene that crossed her path. The cowardly woman couldn't even deign to look at the civilization that supported her, couldn't be bothered to see what was done to others to give her the wealth and affluence she so clearly enjoyed, let alone try to help.
He could feel that old hatred, that cold rage of his begin to sear. If she just reached out to someone, helped up just one person she didn't have to, he might be able to forgive her - but this was too ingrained. It wasn't going to happen, because she didn't want to see the problem, wouldn't acknowledge that it was there. It was people like her who stood by and did nothing, who turned their back on his family when they became ill. It was people like this who he had been saving when he had murdered his family and friends to prevent the disease from spreading.
Not for the first time, he considered that he should have left the disease to spread, to ravage the world - bring divine retribution on this society that so richly deserved it. He hadn't, though. There were still those out there, few and far between, who deserved this life. Captain Jack was one. Life had dealt him the worst hand, but he was still a good man, and the only one he still loved.
The rest of these people, however, this woman... No. A crime of inaction, a crime of willful ignorance was just as damming as the actual crimes of slavery and oppression here. It would have cost her nothing to give that old man a penny, a crust of bread. He would make them afraid, he would make them remember - he would purify this town, if only a little.
He followed the the woman from the shadows, staying out of sight until they were relatively alone. When she worked her way into an alley, a shortcut on her way home, he took his opportunity. Appearing out of the shadows in front of her, his falchion lashed out without warning and without hesitation, stabbing her through the chest. She looked up at him, shocked - her eyes wide and not comprehending as she struggled to make a sound. His voice quiet and full of wrath as he leaned down at her with cold eyes and whispered in her ear.
"I will meet you in Hell one day."
She made a choking sound and he shrugged her off his sword, watching emotionlessly as the life drained out of her eyes. He cleaned off his falchion with a handkerchief which he tossed atop her as he stepped over her now lifeless body on his way out of the alley.
WHAT: Arthur comes across the Doctor's alternate persona and is unprepared for what he finds
WHEN: Some time on the 22nd of September
WHERE: The darkest back-alley in town
WARNINGS: Murder, coarse language, possible trigger subjects
The Purifier was out on the town late that evening, up to his usual exploits. Hunting down information on the Silver Sextant for the Captain was only one of his many goals for the night.
He looked disdainfully around the town; there was so much wrong with this society - poverty, slavery, men and women treating each other without respect or dignity or humanity - and yet nobody did anything to help, to stop it, to reach out. Sure, there was an occasional church or good Samaritan who went about their "good deed" - but even those were usually just token actions, a balm to calm their small consciences. He despised the lot of them.
Like this woman - obviously a person of prestige, given her clothes and the manner in which others address her. She walked by, not oblivious to the poverty and desolation, the slavery, that afflicted those less fortunate than her - but very clearly turning away from them. Ignoring the old man who cried out for a penny. Averting her eyes from each scene that crossed her path. The cowardly woman couldn't even deign to look at the civilization that supported her, couldn't be bothered to see what was done to others to give her the wealth and affluence she so clearly enjoyed, let alone try to help.
He could feel that old hatred, that cold rage of his begin to sear. If she just reached out to someone, helped up just one person she didn't have to, he might be able to forgive her - but this was too ingrained. It wasn't going to happen, because she didn't want to see the problem, wouldn't acknowledge that it was there. It was people like her who stood by and did nothing, who turned their back on his family when they became ill. It was people like this who he had been saving when he had murdered his family and friends to prevent the disease from spreading.
Not for the first time, he considered that he should have left the disease to spread, to ravage the world - bring divine retribution on this society that so richly deserved it. He hadn't, though. There were still those out there, few and far between, who deserved this life. Captain Jack was one. Life had dealt him the worst hand, but he was still a good man, and the only one he still loved.
The rest of these people, however, this woman... No. A crime of inaction, a crime of willful ignorance was just as damming as the actual crimes of slavery and oppression here. It would have cost her nothing to give that old man a penny, a crust of bread. He would make them afraid, he would make them remember - he would purify this town, if only a little.
He followed the the woman from the shadows, staying out of sight until they were relatively alone. When she worked her way into an alley, a shortcut on her way home, he took his opportunity. Appearing out of the shadows in front of her, his falchion lashed out without warning and without hesitation, stabbing her through the chest. She looked up at him, shocked - her eyes wide and not comprehending as she struggled to make a sound. His voice quiet and full of wrath as he leaned down at her with cold eyes and whispered in her ear.
"I will meet you in Hell one day."
She made a choking sound and he shrugged her off his sword, watching emotionlessly as the life drained out of her eyes. He cleaned off his falchion with a handkerchief which he tossed atop her as he stepped over her now lifeless body on his way out of the alley.
no subject
To look back on it now, Arthur could see very well the things that had been wrong in this period of history. Everything from the social attitudes to the distribution of wealth had been wrong and although such problems had persisted even hundreds of years on, at least then, they were not seen as commonplace or, dare he say it, normal. People were so much more willing to reach out, to look towards helping those less fortunate than themselves. It was nothing like this, and yet..
Yet, somehow it was.
Still, Arthur could overlook it. He could overlook those who passed the beggars in the streets without giving them a second look and he didn't blame them for it, for he remembered a time when he would have done the same thing. That wasn't a defence, mind.. merely an observation.
He was making his way down the street, past the entrance of an alleyway when he heard it - a sound he couldn't mistake for anything else and a smell that rose above the salty tang in the air.
Death. Blood.
It was an old combination, one far too familiar to him, and although something in his mind screamed at him not to look, he did, and found his eyes falling first not on the woman on the ground but the man exiting onto the street, a face that he knew and was immeasurably fond of, but one that as of this moment, he did not recognise. For some people, it was difficult to know if they were under the influence of these odd events or not, and for others... for others, it was all too clear. His gaze found the body, then, and he felt his legs turn to lead, feet rooted to the ground as he stared, eyes slightly wide.
Oh, he was no stranger to murder, but he had seen no crime committed here, nothing that commanded such retaliation. He felt his blood run cold.
"... What have you done?"
no subject
"Nothing that didn't need doing."
He drew himself up proudly, his face terrible and his voice cold. It was not an overt attempt at intimidation, though it could easily have doubled as such. There was no warmth in those too-familiar eyes - no compassion. They were utterly alien to anyone who knew the Doctor, and not in the usual way.
His expression and his manner was a little tense, but much less so than would be expected, having been caught at the scene of a murder. He clearly felt no doubt or remorse as regards the deed, and he was not afraid to have other people see what was, in his eyes, the direct result of their society.
"Do I know you?"
no subject
The Doctor had the advantage over him in height, but that didn't keep him from straightening his shoulders and tilting his chin up as a cold chill slid up his spine. He knew.. oh, he knew just what this man could be capable of and it seemed that this scenario had utterly unleashed everything dark and unforgiving about the Time Lord. This certainly wasn't the man that Arthur knew.
"No," he said, with a quick shake of his head to dismiss the question. This man.. whoever he was.. he didn't know Arthur. The blond man made a small gesture, towards the dead woman, then slanted a glance up at the Doctor from under the brim of his hat.
"Pray tell, what was her crime?"
no subject
"She accepted.
She turned away.
She bore the fruits of slavery and exploitation, and then she couldn't even stand to look into the eyes of the people whose lives were being destroyed to support the system that provided her with everything she had.
She was a coward. She renounced her claim to mercy when she turned away from her humanity."
He looked down at Arthur rather contemptuously, seeing that the man disagreed. No matter, he didn't require anyone's validation but his own's.
"The world is a better place without her in it."
no subject
He didn't agree, and a somewhat haughty expression took its place on his features. The Doctor wasn't the only one with a dark side and this kind of situation, with the strain he was already under and the kinds of memories that this 'event' had dredged up set the scene perfectly for the emergence of his own.
"Consider this, then, if you will," he said, keeping his voice low and level. "You have taken a life blighted by ignorance. One which might have been taught to care and to see. Her eyes might have been opened. Even tomorrow, tonight, an hour from now, something might have happened to show her the suffering around her. She might have gone on to do great things. That potential is now gone, because you condemned her for her failings in the present, rather than thinking of what might be achieved in the days ahead."
The contempt was returned in full force. "For now, the world may be better for the lack of her ignorance to it, but the future may be blighted by the loss of a mind with the potential to be enlightened."
no subject
"Ignorance? No, she was far from ignorant. She knew what was happening. She turned aside because she knew what she'd see if she didn't. She was blighted not by ignorance, but by cowardice. Indifference. She was spiritless. Craven.
I cannot judge by what people may do. The world is better off now. That is what I have changed, and that is what matters. Perhaps there is a chance she could be changed, but it is more likely she would have continued down this path, doing more harm as she goes. What is 'potential'? The most enlightened man yet has the potential to turn to evil. Should we judge him for that?
No. No, I did what I had to. I've dispensed my justice, with the tools that I have. Judge me for that, if you will. If you wish to dispense your own justice, come at me. Otherwise, step out of my way."