As has always been the case, I don’t require your help. - for fandom hero mara
There is a spin kick that makes my heart sing.
hiccstrid + parallels
Marvel & Star Wars
omfgnatalie portman fits in here
are we just going to ignore that Agent Coulson was compare to R2-D2
R2’s badass though
Rocketeer commission from Toronto. First time I’ve done something this finished at a con. I spent about half a day at the con, and another 4 hours in the hotel room on this, using pencils, watercolour and gouache.
“Oh! Right. Sorry. Erm.”
Thoroughly taken aback, The Doctor re-evaluates his attention-span priorities to the fantastically gorgeous raven-haired woman threatening to give him The King Charles the First Treatment. And he does what he does best. He talks fast.
"Doctor. Rude. Not ginger. Also— not your enemy. I just got dragged off-course by a massively powerful spaciotemporal hyperlink— your— erm— Bifrost thingy."
"If that’s a thing we have to settle with a duel, I think I put me cutlass in me other trousers. If not, I really would rather keep this head on these shoulders, it’s a combination that I’ve really come to enjoy.”
Sif’s brows furrowed as she glared a the man, she reluctantly lowered her blade, though she did not sheath it and her grip was no less firm.
"You speak oddly… Doctor Rude…" She began. "You claim to have been waylaid by the Bifrost? Whence do you come?" She may not have been threatening his life at that instant, but she was in interrogation mode, a lost man could still be a dangerous man.
He took a brief moment to breathe, relieved, at the lowering of her weapon— though, like The Lady Sif, he didn’t entirely lower his guard.
"It’s— ‘Doctor.’ Just ‘Doctor.’ The Doctor, if you’re feeling definitive. And, yeah, speaking oddly’s sort of my stock in trade.”
"…whence I come is a bit of a complicated question. Hence, thence, and everywhence. I was just sort of making a temporal orbit to buffer my traveling machine’s shielding systems against dark-matter and The Bifrost must’ve scooped me up like a— well, like a Time Scoop.”
"My machine— she’s called The TARDIS— she just needs some time to recalibrate. Doesn’t much like being rattled about when she’s not the one doing the rattling."
"Can I help you?"
"One of you lot again."
"I don’t mean to sound prejudiced, but the moment I started accepting the fact of your existence, you ehn’t half cropping up everywhere."
He briefly considered turning back to The TARDIS and using this new information to calibrate the coordinates— but something tells him he won’t have much better luck trying again. There’s just too much hyperspacial activity around that particular town.
No, better to leg it. Or, even better—
"Erm. Yeah. If you wouldn’t mind me bumming a lift? There’s a proud tradition of hitch-hiking in this galaxy, it’d be a shame to neglect precedent."
"Also," he reminded himself, belatedly to be less rude where she was more ginger, "thank you.”
Charlie rose an eyebrow and continued to watch him, not really knowing what he was talking about and not knowing if she even wanted to know what he was talking about. It sounded strange, but then again, now that she was a hunter it was suppose to be strange… “Uh Galaxy? What are you talking about?” She asked confused.
She nodded slowly before she said. “Alright, yeah… You can ride with me… But I don’t have a lot of room in my car… And you’re welcome.”
"Erm," he hesitated. "Hitchhiker’s Guide to The Galaxy? Douglas Adams? Lovely fellow, now there was a nice man. Just— just being a touch oblique, don’t mind me.”
Slipping his hands into his pockets, The Doctor grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. They’re always smaller on the inside, these things. Well, don’t worry, I’m skinnier than some rails and while me legs are a bit long they fold up well enough.”