Unseen By Mirrors

On Tom (Aquatom1968)‘ s blog there is a button marked “Fancy a Writing Challenge?” He is one of many of you who are attempting to complete 101 tasks in 1001 days, and one of his tasks is: “11. To appear in at least five random short stories on other people’s blogs”.

Since very few of us have ever met each other he offers the following information about himself:

“Bear in mind that I have the body of a Greek God, many super-heroic abilities, occasional vampire tendencies, time-travel experience with a supernatural pull to the Seventeenth Century, various Inner Beings who try to take over my persona, and exceptionally unruly (at times) hair. I live in a Mansion that crosses the border between Reality and Surreal Reality that contains rooms even I haven’t seen yet. And I love to fly and soar through the wonders of the Universe.”

Tom posted all this last March so may well have completed the task by now, but just in case…


It was midnight, and time.

Beneath the Houses of Parliament Guy Fawkes struck a match, and a flame ran in an Opening-Sequence-Of-Mission-Impossible manner towards a huge barrel of gunpowder.

Guy stuck his fingers in his ears and so didn’t hear the strange noise as a blue Police Box materialised right on top of the barrel, which split open.

The Tardis door opened and the Doctor’s head popped out and looked down.

“Oops,” he said. “Sorry about that.”

Small amounts of gunpowder burst through holes in the barrel and whizzed off in all directions, exploding at a dazzling variety of heights in a dazzling variety of colours. The Doctor smiled as Guy watched the spectacle in awe. “Good idea for a career move, wouldn’t you say?”

As Guy ran off into the night and the Patent Office, the Doctor and Clara stepped out of the Tardis. “Where are we?” she asked. “And when?”

“London,” said the Doctor. “1605.”

“The seventeenth century?” said Clara. “What are we doing here?”

“I have to meet someone,” said the Doctor. “He hangs around here a lot.”

“Who is he?” asked Clara.

“One of the Time Lords,” said the Doctor.

“Which one? The Master? The Professor? The Pizza Delivery Boy?”

“Tom,” said the Doctor.

“The Tom?”

“No,” said the Doctor, as a second Tardis materialised beside theirs. “Just Tom. Or Aquatom 1968 as we call him.”

“Why Aquatom?” As Clara asked this the second Tardis’s door opened, and gallons of seawater poured out.

“Because he keeps materialising underwater,” said the Doctor.

“And why 1968?”

“Because he’s had to re-generate 1,967 times.”

“Why so many?”

“Because he keeps materialising underwater,” said the Doctor.

“What’s he like?” asked Clara.

“He has the body of a Greek God,” said the Doctor.

“Really?” said Clara, just a shade too enthusiastically for the Doctor’s liking. The water finally finished pouring from the second Tardis, and out stepped a man with a beer-belly, a hungover-look and hair combed across a large bald-spot.

Clara glared at the Doctor, who shrugged. “Dionysius,” he said. “Greek God of booze.”

Tom approached the Doctor and the two looked each other up and down.

“Nice comb-over,” said the Doctor.

“Nice bow-tie,” said Tom.

“Bow-ties are cool,” said the Doctor.

“No they aren’t,” said Tom. Then he noticed Clara for the first time. “Well hello,” he said, in a Terry-Thomas voice. “Would you like to see inside my Tardis? It’s bigger on the inside – it has rooms I’ve never even been in.”

“We’ve got one,” said Clara.

“Oh,” said Tom. Suddenly his hair snaked out and and slapped the Doctor across the face. “Sorry,” he said, “sometimes it’s a bit hard to control.”

“How did you do that,” gasped Clara.

“It’s some stupid super-hero power he’s got,” said the Doctor grudgingly. “Face-Slapping-Hair Man.”

“It’s a very useful super-power,” said Tom, “if you ever want to hit someone while you’re holding an ice-cream cone in each hand.”

“Why would anyone ever -” began the Doctor, then shook his head. “Anyway,” he continued,  “I believe you’re here fighting the Daleks.”

“Yep,” said Tom.

“Need a hand, I suppose,” said the Doctor.

“Nope,” said Tom. “All done.”

“How come?”

“Remember how we were always able to defeat them because they couldn’t climb stairs? Turns out they can’t swim either.”

The two Time Lords smiled at eath other and got back into their Tardises, the Doctor accompanied by Clara, and Tom by his two Inner Beings, Dick and Harry, who sometimes tried to take over his persona. Harry used to make him harry people, while Dick didn’t.

“I’ve just one question,” said Clara as the Doctor powered up the Tardis. “What’s the story with the name of this story?”

“It was the only way I could get the vampire bit in,” said the Doctor.

14 thoughts on “Unseen By Mirrors

  1. Tinman Post author

    I started this story yesterday, and got the Guy Fawkes idea just by looking up stuff that happened in the 17th century, but I was amazed when I saw your poem.
    I’m going to have a go at the Dubstep Goat, I think, without reading what it actually is, because that would spoil the fun…

  2. Tom (Aquatom1968)

    Thank you very much for this, Tinman! I’ve never been part of a Doctor Who story before… this is brilliant! And you’ve captured my likeness so well…! 😉 If only I had that hair flicking super power that would be amazing! I shall re-blog this forthwith as per my challenge blurb, which, the challenge – by the way, is still open!
    I’m off to read Viv’s poem now, but thanks once again for taking the time to write this! 😀

  3. Pingback: Unseen By Mirrors by Tinman | Me! Me! Me me me!

  4. kateshrewsday

    Ingenious as usual, and so lovely to see Tom’s persona beginning to travel. You jogged my memory. Must do a Tom story myself: though it will not have your wit and panache *sigh*

  5. Saturn With Earrings

    Hello, I’m new here and I came across your blog through Tom’s. Hahaah! That was exceedingly clever 🙂 Very well incorporated. Loved it! Will be reading more from you now.


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