Infinite DC

There was a room typically known to be in a T.A.R.D.I.S. called “The Zero Room,” used by Time Lords during moments of a difficult regeneration or in need of rapid recuperation.

Such a room existed in the Type-Z, though Neas barely made use of it.

Not until her seventh regeneration – Rhyanna.

A fair-skinned woman physically in her early thirties, she acquired long, straight blond hair that was a bit wild when not tied into a ponytail, as well as a strong Australian accent. In over a hundred years since regenerating, she could not figure out how she inherited the latter.

By the flexible, athletic figure that came with it all, her subconscious seemed destine to remind her that she was still the Gladiator.

With Gizmo serving as her only companion in the infinite dimensional corridor, and the endless, tedious hours cooped up in the T.A.R.D.I.S., her most feasible pastime was yoga in the zero room.

It was how she achieved tranquility in this incarnation.

Her previous lives were constantly caught up in the adventure and excitement; all she desired was peace and quiet.

From her headstand position, it was rather challenging to determinate what was up or down by the zero room’s mesmerizing design.

Perfectly leveled against one of the walls, her well-rounded buttocks – heightened by tight purple/blue yoga shorts – slightly pressed against one of the decorative roundels.

Steadied breathing, brought out from her resilient lungs, was all that resonated within the room. Her abdomen relaxed and tightened in correspondence.

Drops of sweat tapped to the floor space around her; a lack of proper air-conditioning to accommodate the stimulating exercise.

Across from her sat Gizmo, who might as well be sitting on the ceiling from her upside-down viewpoint. He enjoyed every second in watching her strain her body to the limit. For his presence, she reduced the zero room lighting.

She lost count in how long she kept herself in headstand position but recognized it to be enough time to bring herself out of it.

Slowly, she lowered her legs, spreading them out in front of her, so that her buttocks would now face the ceiling. In flawless motion, she reversed into a complete split. Her drenched hair dangled over her face and shoulders. She looked to Gizmo, her visage of the little Mogwai barred by moist strands.

“How was that, Giz?”

He garbled with applause.

Rhyanna giggled. “Aww. Thank you.”

She stood, moving to her tiny companion and picking him up to cradle lovingly in her arms.

“You’ve been the only real friend in my travels, Giz. Everyone else leaves eventually, and I go shootin’ off my way with you. Where would I be without you?”

She smooched his small, furry head and headed out with him.

Returning inside the console room, she set Gizmo down on one of the platform chairs before acting on the controls, taking the T.A.R.D.I.S. out of the dimensional corridor.

“Now let’s see where we are,” she said, switching on the view screen.

A colorful forest filled the large, wide monitor.

Noting the abundance of daylight, she elected, “Better I go out there myself, Giz. You hold down the fort for me, won’t ya?”

Seeing the Mogwai nod in acceptance of his task, she gathered her black hoodie and white tennis shoes from the chair beside Gizmo, putting them on prior to her departure from the T.A.R.D.I.S.

Out of the dusky console room and into the lush sunlight, it took a moment for her aquamarine eyes to adjust.

It had been eons since her last venture out of the T.A.R.D.I.S.

After taking a couple of steps, she heard gunfire close by.

“I’m gonna get you, you wasically wabbit and scwewy duck,” she heard an angry voice say, suffering from quite the case of rhoticism.

She crouched low and crawled through bushes, making careful sure not to make much noise that would attract attention. Once she was well-hidden, she peeped out to see an egg-headed, big-game hunter with a double-barreled shotgun, chasing a gray-and-white rabbit and a black-feathered, orange-billed duck.

The hunt halted at a towering tree where a large sign reading “Duck Season” was nailed to the bark.

“Hold it, doc,” the rabbit said to the hunter, speaking with a thick New York accent. “Ya gettin’ it all wrong. Dis ain’t rabbit season. It’s duck season.” He gestured with his white-gloved thumb to the sign.

“Nonsense,” defied the duck with a slobbery, exaggerated lisp. “Anyone with eyes, ears, and a brain can tell you that it’s precisely rabbit season!” To prove this, he brazenly ripped the sign off, revealing the “Rabbit Season” notice underneath.

“Duck season!” The rabbit tore off the new sign, uncovering yet another.

“Rabbit season!” Just as the rabbit, the duck revealed another for the aforementioned period.

This amusing spectacle went on for twenty more signs.

Rhyanna covered her mouth to keep from the characters hearing her explode with laughter in the bushes.

But then another type of explosion entirely brought the farce to a fiery conclusion.

The familiar register of a Dalek death ray disengaging resonated through Rhyanna’s ears before seeing the tree that the rabbit and duck stood beside erupt into a flaming cinder.

Soon thereafter, a black-and-gold Dalek strolled into the enclosure, its gun aimed steadily towards the three animated characters.

“Oh, no,” whispered Rhyanna, recognizing this particular Dalek as the one that hunted her through the dimensional corridor since the Time War.

“Well, dere’s a twist,” said the rabbit of the metallic creature. “Didn’t know Marvin dah Martian was makin’ a guest appearance.”

“I REQUIRE INFORMATION ON THE LOCATION OF THE TIME LORD KNOWN AS GLADIATOR,” screeched Dalek Vec.

The hunter, rabbit, and duck were noticeably dumbfounded.

“Eh, not seen any ‘gladiators’ ’round here, doc,” the rabbit notified.

“THEN YOU SERVE NO IMPORTANCE TO MY MISSION! YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!”

“What?!” The duck maniacally shouted. “You can’t kill us just because we have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“I CAN! I WILL! I AM A DALEK!”

The duck turned to the hunter that earlier was the only predator in those woods, now turned into one of the prey.

“You just gonna stand there and let this tin can wipe us out?!” The duck said. “Shoot ’im! Shoot ’im now!”

Doing what he was suggested to do, the big-game hunter took aim.

Unfortunately, the Dalek was swift in retaliation, not allowing the egg-headed human have first shot. It unleashed its death ray and, in cartoon fashion, the hunter’s charred body dissipated to a pile of ashes, his stunned eyes sitting on top of it.

The rabbit gulped, perceiving himself and the duck next in the line of fire.

“Well, Daffy,” he said, “we had a good run. Shame tah see it end now.”

“You said it, Bugs.” Daffy whimpered. “It was nice knowin’ ya, brother.”

The two shook hands, making their amends on the brink of death.

Rhyanna could not stand to let such fun and lovable (albeit looney) characters be exterminated.

“HEY!” She screamed out from the bushes. “Over here, you nasty bugger!”

It turned to the foliage, blasting away.

She lied down low to the ground, crawling through the interconnecting thickets as quickly as possible.

“SHOW YOURSELF! SHOW YOURSELF!” The Dalek yelled while continuously blasting into the encompassing vegetation.

Bugs and Daffy were frozen in terror, neither knowing what move to make in the sudden turn of events.

Thankfully, one was made for him, thanks to a pair of hands gripping them from behind and hauling them into a section of the shrubbery that Dalek Vec had yet to blast into. They found themselves face-to-face with their rescuer: a young blonde in a black hoodie and yoga shorts.

“Thanks for dah classy rescue,” Bugs acknowledged. “You must be dis ‘gladiator’ dat tin-canned menace is lookin’ for.”

“Let’s turn her in!” Daffy thoughtlessly recommended.

“Daffy, she just saved our lives. We’d be joinin’ Elmer in dah great beyond, if it weren’t for her rescue.”

“What rescue?!” The duck countered. “We’re still hiding in the bushes, giving that thing opportunity in frying us!”

“My T.A.R.D.I.S. isn’t far from here,” Rhyanna alerted. “If we crawl out undetected, we can make it there just fine.”

She led them out, but not while Bugs first asked, “What dah heck is a T.A.R.D.I.S.?”

Wildfire spread over the enclosure from the unceasing death ray.

It strengthened around Rhyanna, Bugs, and Daffy in their sprint, coughing through the developing smoke that burned their lungs and watered their eyes. They barely made the trip before Dalek Vec ultimately spotted them through the engulfing flames.

“EXTERMINATE!” It repeatedly shrieked, mowing over the blazing flora.

Rhyanna did not have to see the monster to know it caught onto them. Her attention was solely on getting the T.A.R.D.I.S. doors open, which she achieved courtesy of her sonic screwdriver.

Witnessing their successful retreat into the Gallifreyan capsule, Dalek Vec made the desperate last resort of firing a single blast. It whizzed by the three escaping targets, striking the control console inside.

The cloister bell rang.

Without caution, the T.A.R.D.I.S. doors closed, inadvertently catching Daffy’s tail feathers in the process.

Rhyanna recognized the Type-Z’s hasty takeoff as an emergency dematerialization, or the H.A.D.S. (“Hostile Action Displacement System”). A defense mechanism in which the unit dematerialized the T.A.R.D.I.S. and rematerialized it a short, safe distance away.

However, the Type-Z was dramatically dissimilar.

Rather than a short distance away, it dematerialized the T.A.R.D.I.S. back into the dimensional corridor.

Making matters worse for the current passengers was the setback in an absence of stability. The Type-Z spiraled out of control down the corridor. Rhyanna, Bugs, Daffy, and Gizmo tumbled all over the spinning console room, their free-moving bodies smacking against the walls, ceiling, and railings.

It was only when Rhyanna’s body reached the control console that she ended the insanity, stabilizing her T.A.R.D.I.S. and taking it out of the dimensional corridor altogether.

“Is everybody alright?” She asked, after the pandemonium settled.

Bugs wobbled back to his feet. “So, you do this often?”

Rhyanna chortled, relieved to see the rabbit’s sense of humor unscathed.

“Let’s find out where the T.A.R.D.I.S. has taken us this time,” she said, switching on the scanner.

The view screen flashed on, but due to the splatter that was Daffy Duck’s body across it, none of them could see the outside feed.

“I got this,” Bugs proclaimed, stepping right up to the splatter and scraping him off the screen.

At last, they could see their new setting on display: the large hall of a castle.

“Where are we? The Middle Ages?” Bugs queried.

“Doubtful,” Rhyanna replied. “Though the T.A.R.D.I.S. can travel through time. The very word is in its name.”

Her instinct was proven to be on-point with the gathering of youths in peculiar school uniforms, looking on the T.A.R.D.I.S. in wonderment and uncertainty.

“From dah look of things, we’ve attracted some local attention,” Bugs indicated.

“Idol worshippers!” A recovering Daffy roared in jubilation.

“Who-do-what-now?” Bugs babbled.

The overjoyed duck pointed to the on-screen minorities. “Look at those astonished faces,” he said. “They’re just dying to worship us!”

Bugs palmed his face in annoyance. “Oh, bruddah.”

Rhyanna jerked once she heard the T.A.R.D.I.S. doors kicked open. She was not certain how Daffy did it, but he did before making his way out into the new atmosphere.

“Oh, no, no!” She exclaimed, following after the foolish fowl. “Bad idea!”

Bugs watched them both leave, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“What a maroon,” the rabbit murmured.

Alone inside the console room, he took in the peaceful silence – a welcoming resonance after the last few harrowing minutes.

Of course, not all was silent.

Faint whimpering prickled his long ears, bringing his focus to the nearest corner.

There, he caught sight of a small, furry creature nursing its left arm.

“Hey, lil’ fella,” he calmly approached the critter. “You O.K.?”

************

“Greetings, dwellers! My name is Daffy Duck, but you may address me as ‘Lord Duck Dodgers’! My beautiful Aussie companion and I are idols from beyond the endless cosmos and have come to liberate your world from…uh…the tyranny of bad school uniforms! In exchange, you will pay us handsomely in whatever wealth and riches you got lying around! So…have we got a deal?”

Rhyanna hid her face deep into her hands, embarrassed and ashamed.

The uniformed adolescents surrounding them were speechless until every one of them busted into laughter.

“How thick you think we are, mate?” One student with flaming red hair rhetorically inquired.

“Wannabe first years,” labeled another with sleek white-blond hair. “So desperate to get in late in the year, they pull a pathetic stunt like this.”

“Shut it, Malfoy!” A girl with long, bushy brown hair blurted in a bossy sort of voice. Holding her schoolbooks close to her bosom, she closed in on Daffy and Rhyanna and advised, “It would be wise to come back and try again later before Dumbledore finds either of you here and forbids you from ever coming back.”

Rhyanna scowled. “But we’re not stu—”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!”

The infuriated female voice, accented in Northern English, echoed the hall.

Everyone quaked in reaction to it, particularly the students, who believed it to have been one of the professors catching them out of their rooms so close to curfew.

They parted as soon as a young, statuesque blonde with fair skin and gleaming blue eyes entered the scene, dressed in the same black, loose-fitting robe as the other students assembled there.

She threateningly advanced solely on Rhyanna, who backed ever so cautiously.

“Tell me why your big, sweaty bum is here at Hogwarts?!” The girl ever-so-rudely interrogated her.

Rhyanna eyed her curiously. “Do I…know you?”

The young blonde let out an aggravated groan. “How could I be so thick? Of course you don’t know me yet.”

“Maureen,” addressed a boy with round-rimmed glasses and a lightning-bolt-shaped scar, “do you know these strangers?”

“In a word – yes,” Maureen verified. “In three more words – so to speak.”

“Somebody help,” called a voice from inside the looming, rectangular solid behind Rhyanna and Daffy.

Bugs zipped out, carrying an injured furry creature in his arms.

“I think dis lil’ guy’s broken his arm,” he told the group.

Maureen’s brow furrowed in concern for the tiny ball of fur curled up in the rabbit’s arms. “Gizmo,” she softly breathed.

Rhyanna heard clearly enough to mentally question the young girl’s noteworthy recognition of the Mogwai.

“Hermione,” Maureen turned to the bushy-haired girl, “how are you with perfecting that healing potion?”

Hermione hesitated with a response. “I…I’ve given it a bit of practice, but I don’t think I…”

“I’ll give ya a nudge,” Maureen hastily encouraged. “I’ll get us the necessary ingredients and meet you in Harry and Ron’s dormitory. Hurry!” She then centered on Rhyanna, Bugs, and Daffy. “As for you three, you go with them and don’t stop for sightseein’!”

By these commands, the congregation dispersed from the hall.