“Seven deadly sins are often thought to be abuses or excessive versions of one’s natural faculties or passions.”
James was pride. The source of all the other sins as he was the spine of the Marauders. James was spoiled rotten and he was constantly told that he was the best at whatever he did, it didn’t help that he actually was the best. His ego was fed by the people around him, especially Peter Pettigrew who looked up to the messy haired boy as if he wanted to be him. James was aware of what people thought about him, a popular and a good-looking boy who is also a good Quidditch player with good grades, which was a very rare combination. He was aware that he was close to being perfect only to be stopped by his pride as Lily Evans pointed out several times. James never saw anything wrong with the way he was, in his mind he was telling the truth. Why hide it when it’s clear as day? It was his pride that made him make fun of others or go after the people who he didn’t like, because they were nothing like him, they weren’t even close. James knew he was superior to most of the school, not because of his blood status but because he is James Potter, then why not have some fun with it? He had never gotten in trouble before so why it should change just because he is in Hogwarts? One thinks where his pride was when he met the Marauders but that’s just the thing, he chose them to be his friend so they must be just as good as he is. Unlike Lily who’s choices couldn’t be worse, in James’ opinion hence the bullying. No one told James that whatever was going through his mind was not the right thing, not someone he actually thought was important anyways. Lily Evans was a pass time until his fifth year when he realised that Lily was actually as perfect as he was. It was later in sixth year that he realised he wasn’t anything he thought he was without Lily Evans. It was in seventh year he stopped seeing himself as the Prince of Hogwarts, even though he really was. He was eighteen when he realised he didn’t deserve the red haired girl walking down the altar, he had felt entitled to everything he had up until that moment Lily Evans stood before him. James Potter was twenty-one when he realised he didn’t matter at all if he was without Lily and Harry.
Peter was envy, not that he wanted to be but he just couldn’t help it at this point. He never understood how he got to be friends with the Marauders anyway, he never understood how they befriended him. Sirius was the heir of the Black house when they met and then he was one of the most notorious blood-traitors the history has ever seen. He was also ridiculously good looking. James was the Prince of the school and one of the best students in their year despite all the mischief they got up to. He had heaps of girls (and boys) running after him and swooning at everything he did. Also, he was ten times the Quidditch player Peter will ever be. Remus was a kind soul with a brilliant mind. The only reasons girls didn’t moon over Remus or Sirius was that everyone was aware they didn’t have eyes for anybody else than each other but that didn’t stop people from admiring them. Peter knew what people thought even though the Marauders never made him feel like that, he knew everyone thought he was irrelevant, he knew everyone thought James Potter befriended him because he was a lost case and he wanted to protect Peter. Peter would show them, he would show them that he could be better than his friends. He had high hopes for the Animagi idea, he hoped he would turn out to be a lion but when it was all said and done, he felt small. Marauders told him how he was the most useful one but he was small, as always. However he was determined, he would show them, he could be better like them, powerful, strong and admirable. So Peter did. He really did show them, but none of them could see it. When he was done he didn’t have any friends he could compare himself to.
Sirius was wrath. It came with the family name, he couldn’t control it. He didn’t control it when his relatives called him out for being a disgrace to family name. He didn’t control it when third year Ravenclaws were being mean to Peter. He didn’t hold back when Walburga almost attacked Regulus during Christmas break, he paid for it severely. He didn’t even try to take it under control when Bellatrix insulted his friends during a family dinner, his wand was out in less than 2 seconds, he paid for that, too, and carried the scars with pride. Sirius Black made decisions on the spot without thinking and everyone knew this, but Severus Snape knew how to manipulate it and he was hell bent on finding out what was wrong with that weird Lupin boy. So he pushed every button he knew Sirius had and Sirius didn’t control his impulse, he paid for this one way worse than he did before. He got hexed by James, punched by Peter and Remus shut him out, just because Sirius couldn’t control his anger. It was the turning point for Sirius, he taught himself to calm down, he had to and he stopped blaming it on the family name, this was all him. Sirius’ wrath got the best of him on that October night, too, when he was denied to have Harry he figured he didn’t have anything to lose anymore when he had so much to live for. One moment of giving in and he was being dragged away by the Aurors. Sirius felt like there was left nothing to do, so he just laughed until he couldn’t anymore.
Remus was lust, not him but the wolf that took control ever so often. Remus would never deny how he felt on the nights leading to the full moon. He would only think about Sirius’ skin and all the things he would rather be doing with him instead of staying away. Sometimes he just wanted to let go of the protective instinct he had about the raven haired boy and let the wolf do what he wanted with him because no matter how much he tried to deny it Remus enjoyed it. The small bites and not so soft scratches, silent growls and the complete control he had over the boy who couldn’t be restrained. There was another side to his lust he couldn’t control even if he wanted to, the carnal desire, the wolf’s need to see blood spilling even if it’s just it’s own. Sometimes Remus couldn’t see the thin line between what the wolf wants and what he wants, sometimes he would just want to rip someone’s skin off for being too perfect unlike his own skin which was covered with scars which wouldn’t heal. He wanted all the things he couldn’t have. Sirius kept him at bay, tried to make him love his scars and he admired them when Remus refused. When he was gone Remus let the lust of the wolf take over so it could have all the blood he wanted, dark red and sticky just so he could stop longing for the perfectly pale white skin that used to be his and only his.
“Every great decision creates ripples, like a huge boulder dropped in a lake. The ripples merge and rebound off the banks in unforeseeable ways. The heavier the decision, the larger the waves, the more uncertain the consequences.”
Originally, the Eighth Doctor was all over this, but the fic evolved so that he doesn’t actually make himself physically known. He’s just talked about a lot. He’ll be present in a future installment, I’m sure, so for those of you who were looking forward to seeing him, don’t be disappointed. And for my Classic Who fans, look! It’s Seven!
The TARDIS was in between stages. She had changed a lot, under Seven’s
watch, and at this point in her timeline, she was still a mix between the more
sterile aura that Six had left behind and the dim-lit, paper-and-tea-scented, homey
place she would be by time Seven would start losing his hair (which was a
terrible shame, considering the Doctor’s tradition of keeping a fabulous head
of hair through all his regenerations, but then again, who was Nine to judge?).
At the moment, though, Seven was still in his younger years and still the
keeper of a full head of hair. And he was calmly preparing mint tea like it was
nobody’s business, which was mostly true, seeing as the only other person in
the TARDIS with him was… himself.
“So, what is the matter?” Seven
asked. Nine immediately wanted to call Seven out on his placating tone, because
I was you and I remember and I
practically invented that tone of voice so don’t you dare use that on me,
but he found himself… placated. Well, as much as he remembered being Seven, he
had forgotten how good Seven was at this. This, being… well, whatever it was. “It
must be something important if you crossed timelines to talk to yourself about
“We met a girl,” said Nine.
“Oh, dear, that’s awfully specific,” Seven snarked casually, shifting the
kettle. “Please, be more vague so that we can include basically every day of
our lives and ninety-five percent of our companions.”
“Shut it. I’m the one who’s supposed to be a snark, not you,” Nine said. He
would have been amused if he wasn’t in such a foul temper.
“Hmph. I can be whatever I want to be.” Seven shifted the kettle again, more
out of habit than necessity, since moving the tea kettle did absolutely
nothing. “So, tell me. What’s so important about the girl.”
“We love her.” Sometimes blunt really was the way to go, especially with
one’s own self.
“We do?” Seven looked as startled as he had ever been, which was saying
something, considering how many times he had gotten a gun pointed in his face. Really should be a bit more wary of guns,
Nine thought, remembering Seven’s unfortunate and honestly stupid end, but it wasn’t as if he could warn his younger self, so
he stayed silent on that matter. Seven stared Nine down, looking for some hint
as to his future self’s meaning, and he must have found it genuine, because he
suddenly went slack in his seat and said, “Oh, my. We do.”
Seven’s eyes darted aimlessly before settling on Nine’ shoe. “So. Love. I
“Neither did I,” Nine agreed, bobbing his head in a nod. “But she’s
A small smile lit Seven’s face. “So, did you come just to tell me the big
news, or did you need something? Not that news like that isn’t enough. I won’t be able to remember it, but I’ll still
have that sensation of looking forward to something. Thank you.”
“S’pose I should tell the others,” Nine pondered, before shaking himself. “But
I’m here because… well, I did something stupid.”
“Oh, of course,” Seven groaned. “I may not be particularly knowledgeable of
your regeneration, seeing as you do come sometime after me, but I think I can
guess that it was something you said. Our talent with words doesn’t seem to
last past myself.”
“It does, though,” corrected the Ninth with a sneer. “It lasts through
Eight, that’s for certain.”
For a moment or two, Seven was pleased, before he noticed Nine’s sneer of
disdain. “Oh, dear. What does this have to do with Eight?”
“Well, y’see, it started…” Nine leaned forward, and so did Seven, both
looking as though they were about to divulge the secrets of the universe. “Um…
Oh, this is weird. Thing is, she’s human.”
“Human?” echoed Seven, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “Well, I
suppose that’s… very much like us, to give our affections to a human. I never
really considered it, I don’t think.”
“Hm. So, what’s it like? Loving a…
“Fantastic.” Nine smiled. “Not like those Gallifreyan ladies. She’s not full
of it, actin’ better’n I am ’cause-a station. She’s jus’… her. Wants to see the
whole universe. I get to show her everythin’. And she tries so hard, jus’t’be
alive. Harder’n any Gallifreyan in history ever bothered to.”
A warm, toasty feeling started to crackle to life between Seven’s hearts. “That
“Is. Problem, though,” admitted Nine.
Seven turned to gather two teacups from the cabinet. Nine looked at the
delicate cups with some level of amusement. They didn’t really suit him or
Seven, but they had been around for so long, he couldn’t imagine getting rid of
them. He hadn’t dared to take them out around you, but now that he thought
about it, maybe you would find them as funny as he did.
“Of course there is,” said Seven, snatching the kettle off the burner (and,
really, was that a Bunsen burner? Why did he even own one of those, much less
make tea on it?). “Go on.”
“Well, being human, she doesn’t really know about the courtin’ procedures,”
Nine admitted. Seven saw where the conversation was going and immediately
groaned and allowed his head to bump against the cabinet door with a dull thud. “My thoughts exactly. And the
worst part is’at I’m not all that good at courtin’ in the first place. I tried
a few little things, messed the last one up horribly.”
“Double down,” Seven mused. “So you want me to help–” and then Seven paused,
because the whole conversation clicked in his mind like the final piece of a
jigsaw puzzle. “Eight is good with words, you said. You went to him for help.”
“Yeah,” said Nine. “Eight is… well, you’ll understand when you’re him, but
it seemed like the perfect plan. He’s good with that sort of… thing. Women, I
guess. He practically memorized the courting procedures, and he’s very…
charming, y’could say, so I thought it would work.”
“What would work? You didn’t… oh.
“I took ’er t’see’im,” Nine admitted, scrubbing a palm down his face and
covering his eyes. Seven scooted a cup of freshly-brewed tea under the other
Doctor’s rather prominent nose. The steam rose up and wetted Nine’s skin. “It
seemed like a good idea. He was so lonely, y’know. That body wanted love more’n
any o’ the others did, so I thought he would be the most willing to help. Was a
bit too willing.”
“Ah.” Seven sipped his tea and instantly regretted it. The liquid was
“He was all over her!” Nine exclaimed, suddenly throwing both hands into the
air. If he hadn’t been feeling so tired, he might have jumped out of his chair
to pace, as well. “I swear, second I told him who she was to us, he practically
ran over and snogged her right then and there.”
“Well, you did say he wanted love more than the rest of us, and that’s
saying something, considering how much we’ve wanted a… a bond-mate, over the
Nine scoffed. “Either way, he was ridiculous. Eight’s very tactile, no sense
of personal space, so I was expecting him to get a bit touchy with her, but he
had her sitting on his lap. On his lap, hear me? I’ve known her for years,
few weeks ago I finally get her to lie down on the couch with me, and in less
than five minutes he’s got her on his
lap, holding his hand. Oh, n’his hands were everywhere. On her face, in her
hair, on her thigh, blast it. And she
didn’t stop ’im, either.”
“Why would you want her to?” Seven asked, confused. “He’s us, he was forward
enough to initiate courting touches, and she accepted. That’s perfect. What’s
“She’s human, Doctor,” said Nine, frowning. “From a Gallifreyan woman, that
might have been perfect, but she’s human. To her, it wasn’t me. It was a man
who was more handsome and better spoken than me, touching her, and she was fine
“So you didn’t tell her that you and Eight are the same person? That we’re
all the Doctor, despite our differences?” asked Seven, who was beginning to
wonder if his counterpart had lost some brain cells through regeneration.
“Of course I did, but–”
“But nothing!” Seven cut his future self off abruptly. “You explained to her
that Eight is you, she met Eight, and she accepted his courting offers. Maybe
she doesn’t know the first thing about courting procedures, but it sounds to me
as if he was making himself rather obvious. If she accepted it from him, then
she accepted it from you, just as much as from me and all of us who come before
Nine was silent.
“I don’t know how your regeneration thinks,” Seven continued, voice much
softer, “but I don’t think we would fall in love with a girl who wouldn’t love all of us. If she is who I hope she is,
then she knows that we’re all… us. If she accepted Eight, she accepted us all,
and that includes you, in case you didn’t notice. Now, stop being a jealous sod
and go to her.”
Slowly, Nine eased his way out of his chair. His eyes wandered over the
TARDIS’s mixed interior, obviously recalling when it had been his, what had
come before and what would come after. Then he looked down at Seven, and Seven
saw a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“I’d better get back to her, then,” Nine said, a smile playing at his lips
but not coming all the way through. “Y’know… seems t’me like ya understand it
all better than I do, and you haven’t even met her yet.”
“Maybe so,” Seven admitted, shrugging. He dipped his head down to take a sip
of tea, but, remembering the perfectly unacceptable temperature, he refrained. “Still,
would you give her my love?”
The smile turned into a full grin. “Aye. I’ll do that.”
And just like that, Nine swiftly escaped from Seven’s TARDIS and into the
rough terrain of whatever planet they had agreed to meet each other on. Seven
knew that Nine’s TARDIS couldn’t be far away, which meant that you were
probably close by. He stamped down the temptation to follow Nine, to catch a
glimpse of you, or maybe just to hear your voice. He wanted to know. As
confident as he had acted for his counterpart’s sake, he didn’t know anything
about you, and he wished… he just wanted to know something about you. Anything.
Someday, he thought, sipping the
tea that had finally cooled, someday.
He would have to forget all of this. If he didn’t, it would cause a paradox.
But there was nothing saying that he had to forget immediately. He could keep the memory for a day, or two. Maybe…
maybe, if he kept the memory overnight, he would dream of you. Yes. Just
overnight, and then he would make himself forget. Until then, though… he could
“All over the world fools are poised, ready to let death fly. Machines of death, Morgaine, screaming from above. Light brighter than the sun. Not a war between armies, nor a war between nations, but just death. Death gone mad! A child looks up into the sky, his eyes turn to cinders. No more tears, only ashes. Is this honor? Is this war? Are these the weapons you would use?”
A nice little documentary released in ‘84 (filmed in ‘83). Highlights include fragments of live performances of The Reflex, New Moon on Monday and a bit of Is there something I should know (here’s an extracted NMoM and Reflex). There’s also short interviews with John, Nick and Simon.
Everyone’s favourite question on how long they expect the band to last gets asked I get emotional cause even back then they wanted to stay together 5ever.
Simon steals the show telling the blood curling tale of the murderous wombat. Here’s the Duran Duran and Australian animals segment he mentions, the wombat M.I.A by that point, only the kangaroo and possum left.