The first series of The Eighth Doctor Adventures saw a dark, airy, isolated TARDIS, not dissimilar to the hall of a Gothic mansion.
But times have changed - now accompanied by many friends, the Doctor has given his ship a redesign. Or rather, I have. (Hi.) Here's a little insight into the creative decisions, and a set tour of the TARDIS of The Eighth Doctor Adventures' second series... |
“I’ll come.” Tommy joined the Doctor and Autumn down in the lower area around the bar, where Autumn had poured three lemonades. “I spoke to Natalie, and after six cups of tea and a session of therapy, she believed me and understood. She was my best friend for a long time. We can go back. So thank you the offer.”
He abandoned his hope of tapping in coordinates and headed down to the bar, pouring himself a glass of lemonade. He tried to ignore the empty seats beside him, and looked up at the painting of Gallifrey on his wall. The thought of home made him feel more isolated than ever – it seemed so far away now, and Robin was right; it had been a long time. He would let it take longer.
He took a while over his lemonade, and found himself a book to read. He let the TARDIS stay where it was; a funny object on a London street. No one would question it there. No one would even notice it.
Autumn sat up on the barstool, watching Alfie crawl around on the floor in the lowered area of the ship where she could keep a closer eye on him, his feet pitter-pattering along as he squeaked merrily away to himself. Tommy watched from a distance, amused and faintly touched, bags of clothes and possessions at his feet to be taken to his room, while Chris and Robin stood up on the gallery, watching the others.
He admired the architecture of the TARDIS. He loved his new desktop theme, but he had missed the obvious inspiration behind it: people. It was large and airy, with places to stand and sit. A place for a team. The TARDIS had plucked it from his thoughts, from what he wanted, anticipated – he had just assumed that his friends would stay forever.
She ushered him around to an archway, as if what she had just said was somehow irrelevant trivia. “Now I’d like you to meet our friend,” she said, as Tommy entered the archway: “the Doctor.”
The Doctor was sitting at his desk, scribbling something and fast running out of room; his globe took up a large portion of the desk, but he seemed reluctant to move it. He was dressed in a long, light brown coat and a blue shirt, his top button undone. He glanced down at it as Tommy noticed it.
When he eventually decided to leave the room, he turned the rest of the lights out, and wandered down a hitherto untrodden corridor, hoping, with what little there was left of him capable of hope, that the TARDIS would allow him to become lost in it.