Introduction: Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please! This series tells the tale of a man named Mr. Marwah and a boy (possibly a girl) named Surat. You may know these two in real life actually, as they are both very popular in their own retrospects. Anyway, the two of them are singers/musicians and they co-exist in the school for the music and arts and performing arts. So what if this seemingly "normal" school gets several visitors from inter-dimensional and interplanetary beings? What if they're all from the fandoms that exist within this universe but have managed to leak in because of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff?

Techivita’s note: Phew. Note to writers, never put off your writing till the due date, especially if you're working with other writers because then it’s going to end up a mess with only a few people writing and not everyone… *sigh* Anyway, I’m hoping I can finish this series by the time I graduate (might not be possible considering how long this thing takes due to the overwhelming amount of fandoms and plot points in this). Dedicated to Mr. Marwah who’s sadly leaving before I get to graduate. Sir, you will be truely missed. Anyway, may the tale commence!
Concept art drawn by Techivita
Concept art drawn by Techivita

Chapter 1 – Time Will Tell

Original Idea by Katasu1996 and Techivita

Written by Techivita, La Sosuia, and HappinessPatrol

Something seemed familiar about him. The way he dressed and definitely the way he sounded. But there was something else, that made him stand out, but he just couldn’t point it out. He was an amazing singer, he stood out to him when they first met, but there was something else, and he just couldn’t quite pinpoint it. He was-


Surat glanced over to where the voice rang from and found Mr. Marwah standing before him with a concerned expression on his face. He was dressed in a black collared t-shirt – that seemed to lack the usual bow tie addition – dark blue jeans and vans. Mr. Marwah didn’t exactly tower over Surat, but he gave him a very disapproving glance that made Surat worry about disappointing the person he so highly respected

“Surat, sit up straight please.” Mr. Marwah commanded politely.

Surat slid quickly and silently from the back of his chair, straightening his posture to form the perfect singing position. Mr. Marwah, happy with Surat fulfilling his command, returned to the crook of the piano at the other side of the room and began his daily warm up exercises with his class. However, instead of paying attention, Surat’s mind still wandered elsewhere as he sang through the exercises.

Mr. Marwah gave him burning sensation of deja vu every time he saw him, as if he knew someone like him from the past. Why? He didn’t even know him until he came to LaGuardia.

The Doctor quietly wandered around the control panel of the TARDIS, the green light of the center column reflecting onto his doleful young face. He wore his favorite tweed jacket that day – the tan one with the leather elbow pads – and his usual, and very cool, red bowtie. His brown hair flopped over to one side of his head as he collapsed onto the control panel with a sigh, accidentally pushing some of the buttons and levers as he did so. The large silver and green colored room was quiet, save for the soft creaks and whirs emanating from the sentient mechanism. The Doctor closed his weary eyes and listened quietly to the inner workings of the TARDIS.

Suddenly, the spire of the TARDIS began flashing a scarlet red, plastering its warning of danger onto the walls. A siren could be heard blaring in the distance as the room shook violently, throwing the Doctor off of his feet as he tried to cling onto the side railings for support. Sparks flew from the central control panel and wires fell from the ceiling, slowly turning the once neat and organized control room into a jungle-like mess.

Rushing to his feet, the Doctor pushed multiple switches and buttons in order to stop the violent shaking, but to no avail. He was flung back to the railings and grabbed on for dear life as the TARDIS did its tumbling and sickening dance, crashing through the time vortex into an unknown and possibly dangerous place.

Suddenly the shaking stopped and the room turned silent. The TARDIS dimmed its lights, sending the room into darkness. The only light that emanated from the room was from the once bright central spire, now glowing a dim light green, and a small control screen attached to the control panel. The Doctor slowly rose to his feet, cautiously surveying the amount of damage his ship had sustained. He walked tentatively over to the monitor, kicking some of the debris away from his path. The monitor fizzled a bit as the Doctor took a hold of it, but then refocused and displayed some text in large letters:

Planet: Earth/Midgard/Terra/Planet 42

Area: New York City, Upper West Side/Manhattan

Species Dominant: Homo-sapiens

Date: October 25, 2013

Status of Ship: Low Fuel, No More Fish Fingers and Custard

The Doctor sighed, pushing away the monitor and flipping a couple of switches below it. The TARDIS gave a soft hum as the color of the spire changed from light green to a dark blue, beginning the process of absorbing the surrounding rift energy to charge its fuel cells. Straightening his bowtie, the Doctor slowly walked towards the exit doors, and timidly pushed them open, peeking out into the world he crashed in.

What he found was a large, scaffold covered building with the numbers “1984” engraved into one of the large concrete blocks on its side. The scaffolding covered almost every part of the building – like the blue tendrils of a kaled mutant – that diminished the beauty of the building itself. However, the scaffolding didn’t cover the engraving on the very top of the building, which displayed the words “Fiorello H. Laguardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts”. The Doctor found this title to be very annoying, as the usage of polysyndetons were slightly repetitive, but otherwise the building seemed normal.

Except for the enormous hole in the base of the building.

The Doctor slowly approached the hole, observing it carefully with his two, curious brown eyes. The semi-circle hole looked as if it was hastily broken down, as if a large object rammed into a small portion of the building. However, some of the edges looked singed and its ashes still drifted around the broken wall. Surprisingly the building hadn’t collapsed on itself nor had anyone – besides the Doctor – found the gigantic gaping hole on the side of a school building just a tad bit suspicious.

The Doctor mumbled to himself in curiosity as he looked around the hole in the wall, finding two pairs of of footprints leading into to it. They both entered through the opening, but he couldn’t tell where they led, as the prints ended as soon as the tile began. The first track seemed to be human-like, but the second one was more animal-like. The second was a fresher print, seeming to have possibly come from a dog, except it was smaller and only had three toes.

The Doctor took a few steps back from his findings and pulled out his golden and silver-clawed sonic screwdriver out from his coat pocket. The green bulb at the end of the claw whirred to life as it examined the imprints left in the soil. After a few seconds of waving the mechanical stick over the footprints, the Doctor pressed a button allowing the claw to open up with a click, displaying the information picked up from the imprints:

First Print:

Height: 1.93m

Weight: 238.14kg

Species: Jötunn

Last Location: Ásgarðr

Second Print:

Height: 0.89m

Weight: 26.5kg

Species: Sun

Last Location: ジョウト地方

The Doctor turned on his heels and dashed back towards the TARDIS, still holding his screwdriver at hand. He was going to need more tools to figure out who or what these tracks belonged to.

Because they were definitely not from Earth, that’s for sure.

“Ugh how long is Matthew going to take?” Ashley sighed as she slammed her notebook onto the table in frustration. She could have been home by now had she not decided to agree to wait for Matthew. That idiot probably totally forgot about her and just left. Ugh, she could leave now but what would she tell Surat? That she was abandoning Matthew – who still could, quite possibly, be in the building? Nah she didn’t want to seem like she was being the jerk. Ashley looked where Surat sat and watched as he fiddled with his blackberry. They have been waiting in an empty classroom for the past 30 minutes and yet Matthew still wasn’t here. What could be taking him so-

A loud crash resounded through the hallway, making Ashley and Surat jump in their seats.

“What was that?” Ashley whispered to Surat as he quickly tucked his phone into his pocket.

The two quickly hid behind the door, looking out of the window in search for the source of the bang. They ran towards the blue locker section, coming to a nearby math room. Ashley tip toed closer to the corner of the hallway, her body tingling with excitement at the prospect of possibly apprehending an intruder.

Surat on the other hand, shook slightly with fear. He didn’t like loud noises, and he just wanted to go home and watch lots of Ariana Grande videos. He clutched onto his bag, his eyes dilating, shining with desperation to leave.

“Um, Ashley, what about Matthew-“

“Matt’s taken long enough,” Ashley snapped, creeping closer to the staircase. Surat whimpered, and cursed under his breath. He didn’t really want to abandon her, so he followed her insecurely from behind.

Ashley turned the corner and dodged back and forth along the walls of the hallway – like they do in action movies – trying to avoid being detected by the intruder. Surat, however, found this movie imitation to be very cliché and unnecessary.

As crept closer to the orange locker section, they found a very tall man with raven black hair exiting the staircase. He wore what seemed to be a black and green leather trench coat that had straps that draped down to his knees. He wore leather pants, an intricate pair of boots with many buckles, and was adorned with several golden arm and shoulder plates, in what seemed to be one of the most expensive looking costume Surat had ever seen. He turned to Ashley and what he saw was something he had not expected.

Ashley’s pupils were dilated, as if she had seen the most wonderful of treasures ever to have been discovered on earth. Surat could also hear a small squeaking sound emanating from her.

“Quiet Ash,” Surat whispered “you’re gonna get us caught.”

“I-I-I-It’s Tom Hiddleston!” Ashley replied in a fashion that seemed to be a squeak whisper.

“Pero… like who that?”

“He’s amazing. He’s so nice and he’s a awesome actor and he’s fantastic and he’s dressed up as Loki and oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I’m seeing Tom Hiddleston right in front of me oh my go-”

Suddenly the man turned around and directed his eyes towards them. His face held no visual emotion besides disgust.

“Mewling quim.” He spat out. “What art thou doing here! Depart before I destroy your pathetic lives.”

“Oh my god he’s doing the Loki thing! He’s doing the thing!” Ashley squealed, jumping around with joy, but Surat didn’t look all too thrilled. He was pretty sure that they just received a death threat, which freaked him out, but Ashley looked to happy to notice he was uncomfortable with the situation.

“Yes dear child,” Loki replied, confusion plastering his face but was quickly replaced with confidence. The girl who stared at him intently looked like she was ready to give up his life for him, and he wasn’t going to let that go. “I’m so glad you picked that up. Now, by any chance dost thou knoweth where all thy music is stored?”

“Sheet music? Yea I know the-I mean I know where it is! Come on Tom, I’ll show you.” Ashley sputtered.

“Perfect. Come now. Take me to where thy music is kept.” Loki menacingly smiled, allowing the girl to lead the way. He began to follow her, but he felt the glares of the young boy burning into his back. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but it still made him worry that his plans to get the Vocadamus just might be slipping through his hands.

“I don’t know Dasha, I feel like I’m coming in late on some of these entrances.” Alex sighed as she took a look at her sheet music one last time before carefully folding it in half and shoving it into the front pocket of her bag.

“I have senioritis,” Dasha proclaimed, like she usually did, “I don’t really care about entrances anymore. Also we still have plenty of time before the performance, but we don’t have that much time so let’s go before we’re late; that way we can still get bubble tea before chorus.” Dasha said, slightly irritated by her hunger.

“Yea, sure, uhm, can you just wait for me a sec, I really have to pee.” Alex replied as she started walking toward the girls restroom. Dasha leaned back onto the lockers, as an audible slam could be heard as Alex walked into the bathroom. She opened the door to the only bathroom stall still open and poked her head inside. “Damnit no toilet paper.” she mumbled to herself.

“Just a second and I’ll be out!” said an almost too cheerful voice that sounded vaguely familiar. The toilet flushed and out walked Alex’s friend Victoria. “Oh, hey Alex! What are you still doing here?” she inquired eagerly.

“Oh Dasha and I were just practicing for JYC, but we ran a bit later than expected. I hate to be rude but I really have to go before I make both Dasha and I late for chorus.” Alex said as she gave a half smile.

“Oh that’s cool I just-” a harsh grin settled on Victoria face and her pupils completely dilated making her eyes appear completely pitch black.

“Victoria?” Alex said with a faint voice as she slowly backed away from her.

“No sweetie, it’s Alaezah now,” came out Victoria’s voice, but Alex knew it wasn’t Victoria anymore. She dashed for the door, furiously twisting the knob but it was no use. She was stuck in the bathroom with Alaezah. She turned back to Alaezah who was still in control of Victoria and watched as she tilted her head up towards the ceiling, releasing a cloud of smoke into the air as it simmered above their heads. Immediately Victoria fainted rendering her unconscious. Alex stared at the scene in front of her terrified and unable to do anything. She watched as the smoke began to sink down towards her and with a scream everything went black.

Azaelah stretched herself in her new body. Getting a new host was always a fun experience, but maybe her choice was a wrong one. As she scanned the memories of the new host she held she was dismayed to find that this human didn’t know anything about Vocadamus either. Azaelah continued to rack through the memories of Alex and came upon a recent one. It was the girl she was possessing, singing with an older girl who directly stated that she was a senior. It was her, Azaelah decided, that she must possess next. She stepped out of the bathroom and walked to the area where the girls were standing before only to find that the other human – the one named Dasha – had left. Azaelah pulled at the head of the mortal she possessed in annoyance only to be interrupted by a vibration in her back pocket.

She picked up the phone and searched through the memories of the mortal, quickly finding the passcode, imputing it in like she had done it so many times before. Once she had opened it she received the notification from Dasha, the girl that she was looking for.

*Meowwww* I’m outside waiting for youuuuuu

Azaelah smirked. She would not let the Vocadamus slip through her hands this time.  

Sam and Dean randomly ran into a wall. Teleportation still wasn’t a thing they were used to. Pushing themselves off the wall they slightly stumbled back but managed to get steady on their feet. Dean noticed that they were in a staircase indicating they were on the second floor of the building, and saw the back of the one who transported them in the the first place at the top of stairs.

“You couldn’t have helped us land softly, Cas?” Dean accused. “With all your powers I would have thought you could have given us a soft pillow to land on.”

Cas showed no emotion as he answered back. “I’m an angel Dean, not Sleepy’s.”

“Well, I’m not too sure which one I should be trusting for the rest of my life,” Dean shot back harshly but his tone was not registered to Cas.

“Can we get back to the actual issue at hand, like why we’re even here?” Sam retorted, unfazed by the immaturity constantly presented by Dean and Cas. Cas gave a little nod of the head and clasped his hands together.

“Well there’s a demon here.”

Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes in annoyance. “Yes Cas, we know there’s a demon here. There’s always a demon. It’s our job to hunt them down.”

“So why was there a question?” Cas wondered, genuinely confused.

“Well is there a background story?” Sam interrogated, “Like if there was a series of murders, here-” Sam paused. “Hold up, where is here anyways?”

“I could answer that for you,” a voice resounded from the corner. It was dark and heavy, breaking through the chattering of the three men. The accent the man held was distinctly British, a fancy one that sounded like it belonged to a narrator in a movie. Soft steps echoed throughout the stairwell area as the man walked down the stairs in order to meet face to face with the demon hunting trio.

“I believe, I could be of great use to you three gentlemen.” The accented man stated coyly as Sam and Dean met his blue-grey eyes. Despite his lanky figure, his posture was perfect and he had a ‘greater-than-thou’ aura surrounding him, even if he was shorter than the group of demon hunters.

“I know exactly what you are thinking,” the man spouted, “Who the bloody hell is he? Well, quite frankly… that point is irrelevant.”

Dean flashed a smile of amusement. “Oh really now?” He crossed his arms and walked towards the young british man, effectively towering above him. “And just exactly what does Mr. High and Mighty intend to do?”

“First of all, I don’t think that an insecure man who has recurring dreams, has as much self-restraint as a monkey when it comes to the opposite sex, and is a daddy’s boy has the right to even come up to my face.” Sherlock sneered, listing off qualities of Dean, each of them like a bullet to the chest.

“And exactly how would you know that?” Dean inquired.

“Just like how I know that there isn’t an history of any past murder, suicide, or burial site in this area, like you demon hunters would presume would attract a demon here.” The words rolled off his tongue, intending to insult.

“And you an angel?” he scoffed, directing his comment to Castiel. “That’s even less believable than that demon talk.” He then pulled his collar up and walked out the doors of the staircase.

“Well that was interesting,” Sam said awkwardly, and Castiel nodded in agreement.

“Most interesting, that man’s deductive reasoning was top notch, almost as good as Doyle’s book character himself.”

Amberley sighed as she stood in front of the elevator on the seventh floor. It was about to hit 6PM and she had just finished a stressful but fun day at club. Actually, club wasn’t actually finished. As it was a dance club, some people were extremely devoted to it, and wanted to reach perfection for their dances, but it was getting late so Amberley had to get home. For some reason, Dasha wasn’t at club today and Amberley refused to go home on the L train by herself. It would be best for her to leave before the darkness of the night came, making her unable to see two feet in front of her.

The opening of the elevator shook Amberley from her thoughts and she stepped inside, pressing the button that sent her to the fourth floor and quickly pressed the button that shut the elevator doors. Soon enough she reached the fourth floor and began to walk out, her heels resounding in the empty hallway. Usually she would have seen someone from Opera Workshop gathering their things from their lockers or maybe Ms. Zimmerman and her students, but today the hallways were desolate, save for her and the silent janitor. After taking necessary things out of her locker, Amberley took the straps of her bag and tugged on it habitually. She slammed her locker shut, ready to embrace the silence in the hallway, but she never received it. Instead she heard distinct footsteps walking down the corridor and Amberley was one-hundred percent sure that it wasn’t the janitor. As a knee-jerk reaction she turned her head and caught sight of a man walking straight towards her, and he looked slightly like…

Amberley adjusted her glasses in shock. There was no way that- but this was LaGuardia… – but he’s too big of a star – but he’s too nice for his own good – why wasn’t he with the drama department -what was he doing on the fourth floor? The mental questioning Amberley was giving herself stopped when she realized that he stood directly in front of her, towering over her like… well… like everyone did. Yup. It was Benedict Cumberbatch.

Play it cool Amberley, play it cool. “Are you looking for the drama department?” she said starting the conversation on an easy note, but the look Sherlock gave her wasn’t all too pleasant.

“And exactly why would I be looking for the drama department?” Sherlock said snidely. Amberley immediately caught the influctions in his voice and wasn’t all too amused. This was an actor that she looked up to for his superb skills and his humble nature, and he was acting like a complete jerk.

“I’m so sorry that I offended you with such a question sir actor sir? What ever can I do to beg for your forgiveness?” Amberley dramatically commented back, the sarcasm pouring from her mouth like a never ending fountain.

“I fail to find any clear reasoning as to why you call me an actor because my intelligence is at a higher level than just memorizing lines and making a sad face at a camera.” Sherlock retorted back, surprised that he was having yet again another pointless conversation.

“Your intelligence, huh? Let me guess you’re a British detective who’s here under some alibi because you heard that something is going on in this school like a priceless sheet of music got stolen and you’re here to find it, because you think you’re the only one who can.”

Sherlock’s eyes widened. She didn’t seem like she knew deductive reasoning… In fact there were no signs of her body language indicating that at all and yet it was clear that she was confident in her answer; confident that she was right. And strangely enough, she was.

“And exactly how did you figure that out?”

“Wasn’t it obvious that I just made it up. I literally made a story in my head based upon multiple fandom’s I belong to, oh, and I’ve had reference from your show.” Amberley answered back. “I’ve had enough of this game Sherlock Holmes,” and she began to walk away. She pulled up the collar of her jacket, an action familiar to him.

“Wait a second,” he called out and Amberley stopped in her tracks. “The alibi is a dance instructor.”

A laugh escaped Amberley’s mouth. “I should have known.”

“And yes, my name is Sherlock Holmes.”

“So… how’s it like to work with Benedict Cumberbatch?”

Loki grumbled again as he listened to the Midgardian spew her thoughtless platitudes. He faked a smile and chuckled half heartedly, trying to resist the urge to punch her in the face or obliterate her from existence.

“He is a dear friend of mine and he is absolutely wonderful.” he mumbled, trying not to loose character of the actor he was supposed to be. Ashley jumped around in excitement as after he spoke, a high pitched, held back scream that was apparently supposed to represent the sound of joy.

He honestly did not know why the girl had not realized that he was not this “Tom” human she assumed him to be. This person, couldn’t look anything like him. He was Loki of Jötunheim, the only Loki in existence and no pathetic mortal could ever look as dashing as he. But playing as this “Tom” person easily had its perks. For one, Loki could easily find the Vocadamus now that these two fools were going to lead him straight to it. It made this search mission much easier and he didn’t have to spend as much seiðr as he thought he would. However, she seemed too jubilant whenever he talked and seemed to enjoy his arch comments everytime he became annoyed, as she would squeal with a high pitched squeak, making Loki start to question whether or not he should just have stuck with his original plan to kill the two on sight.

The male on the other hand seemed a bit more wary of him. He had assumed the boy seemed like a complete ditz at first, but something told him that this Midgardian wasn’t the complete idiot he seemed to be. Humans had dubbed innocent eyes and fluffy hair as the qualities of a trusting boy, but Loki could see the suspicion behind those innocent eyes. He realized then that he would have to be cautious of his actions, for it seemed as if this boy was protective of his female companion. Ah such pathetic mortals. Always so protective of strangers that could easily murder them in their sleep lest they turned their back.

“Here it is,” the female Midgardian squeaked as she bounced happily in a very annoyingly cheerful way, “456, where are the music is storied!”

“Thank you darlings for your services,” Loki said, wanting to puke after saying that comment, “May you do me one more favor?”

“Actually,” Surat began, “we were kinda waiting for a friend of ours and-”

“Yes!” Ashley exclaimed, her high pitched squeal resonating throughout the room, making Loki wince as she did so. Surat though, uncomfortably shifted back and forth on his feet.

“Pero like….Matthew though….”

“Matthew can do what he has to do by himself,” Ashley huffed, while keeping her eyes on Loki, full of admiration. “We already waited long enough for him.”

“This guy can do what he wants to do himself too,” he muttered under his breath. Ashley didn’t pick it up, but Loki had heard it loud and clear. Where did he even come from? Surat thought to himself, not minding to voice it. Besides, Ashley wouldn’t have paid attention to him anyways. No, she was much too preoccupied with this Tom Hiddleston guy to even question him, or even his motives. For Surat, everything just seemed all a bit too suspicious.

Loki placed a smile on face causing Ashley to blush and inwardly he smirked at her reaction. Everything was going to plan, except for the involvement of that boy named Surat, but he decided to pay him no mind…for now. It was time to search for the Vocadamus in the piles of papers which look almost exactly like one another. Brilliant. At least he had slaves to help him now.

Mr. Marwah had searched everywhere. The one time he took off his bowtie, he lost it. Great. It was his favorite bow tie too. He moved around several cushioned clipboards on the shelves nearby the piano, managing to spill some of the small white foam beads from one of the broken lap desk as he did so. He clumsily put the clipboards and papers into order, shoving the beads behind them, and began pacing the floor to see if he could remember where he had placed them.

“Heyo” A voice called from behind him. Mr. Marwah could easily recognize Mr. Hamilton’s voice even without having to turn around.

“Oh hey.” Mr. Marwah replied, as he moved aside some of the pink elastic bands in one of the green cabinets near the piano.

“What ya lookin’ for?” Mr. Hamilton asked, taking a bite out of his chocolate chip cookie as he did so, causing some of the crumbs to fall on his blue plaid shirt. He offered one to Mr. Marwah, but he declined so Mr. Hamilton shrugged it off and took another bite.

“I lost my bow tie,” Mr. Marwah sighed as he closed the metal cabinet. He turned to see the bass playing teacher as he slumped into the piano bench in defeat. “I checked everywhere! 405 , 401, everywhere!”

“You could check the chorus room,” Mr. Hamilton replied as he finished the cookie and tossed out the Lindor wrapper it came from. “I’m pretty sure I saw you have it before 8th period.”

“Hm. I’m sure I’ve already checked there, but I’ll look again” Mr. Marwah replied “Thanks!”

Mr. Hamilton nodded as he proceeded to take out his red bass guitar and began strumming on it. Mr. Marwah left him to his playing as he rushed down the hall towards the chorus room.

Maybe he could finally get it back.

Mr. Marwah quickly pushed the chorus room’s doors open, rushing inside in search for his bowtie.

“Shucks, where did I put it….”

He lifted up the blanket on the piano and checked inside the drawers of music, but yet no bow tie could be found. Mr. Marwah sighed again, beginning to feel both annoyed and frustrated. No matter how he thought about it, there was no doubt that he had left the bowtie in the chorus room. Suddenly, there was a whooshing sound that filled the classroom and it definitely wasn’t coming from outside. The noise was so loud within the small room that all Mr. Marwah could do was cover his ears with his hands and shut his eyes close. By the time he had opened his eyes, in the front of the room was a large blue box and a man standing right in front of it wearing a tweed brown jacket and a red bowtie.

He had brown hair slicked back, and a stout nose and his eyes gleamed with curiosity and wisdom. Swaying around the place, he sauntered onto a chair, shoving his hands in his pockets and gazing around the vast room. He looked rather young, but his shoulders gave away a sense of age, like he had been around for a long long time… So long, the burden was visible on his body, on his walk….

“W-Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

“I believe I am the man with your bowtie,” he said as he dug in his inside coat pocket pulling out Mr. Marwah’s black bowtie. “Well, I’m not really a man,” he muttered under his breath, “but I look like one enough to be called one.” He handed Mr. Marwah back the bow tie and the latter awkwardly took it from the former’s hands.

“No, really who are you?” Mr. Marwah asked as he put the bow tie back on.

“I’m the Doctor,” he simply replied, pulling out a pair of 3D glasses out of his inner coat pocket. “According to other people I’m a bit silly.” He puts on the glasses and wiggles them a bit. “Wow I haven’t put on this thing on my face since I last wore converse on my feet. Amazing how time flies doesn’t it?” he asks Mr. Marwah as he gave off a tiny laugh.

“You got some greenie flying around that bow tie,” he stated as he looked above the glasses. “No, no, no, no, this is impossible! How could you have void attached to your clothes if you’ve never been inside the TARDIS. Have you been inside my TARDIS? Have you ever been in any TARDIS? Wait, I’m the last Timelords, there can’t be another TARIS whizzing around here, so there can’t be any other explanation!”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, kind young sir,” the Doctor said as he adjusted the lapels of his jacket.


The Doctor releases a little laugh. “Ah, this is my favorite part.” He stands behind Mr. Marwah and he began pushing him towards the blue box in the front of the classroom.

“Woah, woah, there,” Mr. Marwah said alarmed. “Just exactly where are you taking me?”

“Well you asked me what the TARDIS is,” the Doctor said matter-of-factly. “You’re just going to have to see it for yourself.” He stood Mr. Marwah in front of the door. “I’ll give you the honor of opening the door.”

Mr. Marwah uneasily stood at the door and began to pull at it, causing nothing to happen.

“No, no, no, you’re doing it all wrong! Push the door for Gallifrey’s sake!” the Doctor reprimanded.

“It clearly says to pull though!” Mr. Marwah retorted back.

“Just push it!”

“Fine then!”

Mr. Marwah pushed the door, and at that moment a whole new world was revealed to him. The interior was vast, a silver, green and gold steampunk like interior. In the center was a raised platform and a center spire filled with buttons and levers that a child could easily spend hours on end flipping the switches. The spire itself seemed to be made of glass and rose and fell as the seconds past, as if it was breathing. There was a soft hum to the machine, as if it was… singing.

“It’s… It’s bigger on the inside!” Mr. Marwah shouted as he took in the sight.

“I love it when they do the thing!” The Doctor said to no one in particular.

Suddenly a loud warning sign blared from the balconies of the TARDIS, making Mr. Marwah cover his ears. The Doctor muttered something under his breath as he flipped a couple of switches to make the blaring fog horn stop. Mr. Marwah slowly uncovered his now ringing ears and brought his attention towards the bright flash from the detached television screen that had the words ‘attention’ in scarlet letters and displayed some text and an image underneath it:


Missing from Gallifrey Files – The Vocadamus:

  • Has been used by the timelord race for eons, mainly used as a form of psychic paper that can manipulate any official document that has to be scanned
  • Harbors a ton of ionized energy that many ancient civilizations have used as a form of seiðr and can significantly amplify a magic user’s ability
  • Can also amplify psychic energy
  • Has been shown to repel specific species of humans for unknown reasons

If found missing, please notify the Gallifreyan society at once.

Mr. Marwah’s eyes widened, as he read the screen to himself.

“Oh my God…”

“Just an old message, probably a few thousand years late. Don’t really want to go see-”

“No… I think I… I…”

The Doctor turned to look at the image of the missing file. It was a stack a paper that was possibly only a few centimeters thick, and was scribbled with music notations. The title read ‘Say Something’ and there seemed to be pencil marks scrawled all over the page, making some of the notes hard to read.

“Yes. Good. Sheet music. Just like any old sheet music that looks like the old papers amongst the papers of all papers. Yes, magical papers, but ordinary looking papers, so why are you so shocked by it.

“No, you don’t understand. I had one of those ‘Say Something’ copies. Those are my notations, but I gave it to one of my students. I… I don’t remember who it was.”

The Doctor smacked his forehead,“Fantastic.” he muttered sarcastically, “So you had a really, really important document – a possibly very dangerous document – yet you decided to give it to some little kid? Out of all people – not to say I don’t like them – but why a little kid?”

“Well I didn’t know it was important! I could have easily made another copy if I chose to!”

The Doctor paced around the TARDIS panel as Mr. Marwah tried to remember who he gave his copy of ‘Say Something’ to – which apparently was some important document in which, with the wrong hands, could potentially harm many people.

Mr. Marwah scratched his head in confusion. Who did I give it to?