As Brittle As Quicksilver (Fourth in The Creators Saga)

Planet of the Ood

 . . . 261, people. 261!!! :D You guys already met the comment goal! Perhaps I need a new rule . . . I won't count comment strings over 30, especially because of a 60+ string on "Voyage of the Damned" and . . . a much larger one on "Apocalypse Rising." You culprits know who you are. *narrows eyes*

Lol, and thank God for Wattpad being unblocked by the school server. Update in pre-calc! :P

Also, a bit of an announcement, guys: school is almost out! Which means my iPad gets turned in, which MAY mean no updates over summer. HOWEVER, my dad has a new iPad and I have college applications to write, which means I may be able to update some. I can't promise how much, and I can't promise if I will at all. So, after this update, this book is officially under the "Slow Updates" category . . . like, sloth slow.

ANYWAY, time to go save the Ood! Here's "Planet of the Ood!"

***

The Alchemist walked into the console room, her face slightly pale as she pulled her hair back in a ponytail. "Don't push her so hard," she complained.

"Sorry," the Doctor said sheepishly, wincing when Donna gave him a look. Since the last adventure, the Alchemist had gotten worse. From what Donna had implied, something that had happened in the med bay had made her worse. The Doctor had threatened to put a restraining bracelet on her, ones that the Time Lords used for renegade Creators that went insane with their power and held it inside. The Alchemist had instantly agreed to not use the Vortex for the next few trips to see if she improved. The Doctor and Donna had been watching her with eagle eyes since. "Anyway, set the controls to random," he gestured to the console. "Mystery tour. Outside that door could be any planet, anywhere, anywhen in the whole wide universe." He raised an eyebrow when he saw Donna pale this time. "Are you all right?"

"Terrified," she admitted. "I mean, history's one thing, but an alien planet?"

"We could always take you home," the Alchemist joked.

"Yeah, don't laugh at me," Donna rolled her eyes.

"I know what it's like," the Doctor smiled at her. "Everything you're feeling right now. The fear, the joy, the wonder? I get that."

"Seriously?" Donna asked, stunned. "After all this time?"

"Yeah," the Doctor grinned. "Why do you think I keep on going?"

"Oh," Donna said quietly. "All right, then. You and me both. This is barmy! I was born in Chiswick! I've only ever had package holidays. Now I'm here. This is so . . . I mean, it's . . . I don't know, it's all sort of . . . I don't even know what the word is!"

"Your sister," the Alchemist snickered as Donna ran for the door. "Definitely."

"I know," the Doctor grinned as they headed out.

"Oh, I've got the word!" Donna shouted from outside. "Freezing!"

The Doctor looked outside and grinned. "Snow!" he cheered, the Alchemist laughing at his excitement. "Oh, real snow! Proper snow, at last! That's more like it. Lovely."

"About time," the Alchemist sighed. After the Sycorax and the Racnoss and the Titanic, she was wondering when they'd get real snow again. "What about you, Donna?"

"Bit cold," Donna answered, clenching her teeth. Then again, she was the one wearing the short sleeves.

"Look at that view!" the Doctor admired, looking out at the massive icicles hanging from bridges over ravines.

"Yep," Donna nodded. "Beautiful, cold view."

"Millions of planets, millions of galaxies, and we're on this one," the Doctor grinned. "Molto bene! Bellissimo, says Donna, born in Chiswick." The Alchemist just snickered when she saw Donna head back inside, the Doctor continuing as if she was still there. "All you've got is a life of work and sleep and telly and rent and tax and takeaway dinners, all birthdays and Christmases and two weeks holiday a year, and then you end up here! Donna Noble, citizen of the Earth, standing on a different planet. How about that, Donna?"