TEAM TARDIS DANCE BREAK
Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 11:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
orange_crushedYOU GUYS, THERE ARE... NO WORDS. The internet keeps giving me reasons to carry on.
YOU JUST GOT SERVED, INTERDIMENSIONALLY.
ETA: Okay,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
the_spin is right, that second one would be better with a ficlet. So here it is, darling ! (Just imagine that Rose twisted her ankle and could not compete, and got to watch from her plush box seats...)
The light fantastic.
The cell door opened with a drawn-out squeal; a theatrical sound with a rich tone, typical of the more traditional prison complexes in Caxullula Majora. It was a good squeak- it raked itself down their eardrums and raised the smaller hairs on the back of their necks like a cat on a fence voicing an existential crisis.
They hurled him through the door.
"I still want my phone call," the Doctor said, from his new position on the concrete floor. A guard considered that for a moment, then pushed his body further into the cell with one booted foot and shut the door with a clang. Rose knelt over the Doctor and started to check his eyes for signs of a concussion.
"Nah," the Master drawled, from the rickety cot. He folded his hands across his knee. "His pupils will be fine. Cranial buffers. We don't concuss." He tilted his head, brightly. "But after blunt trauma we do tend to recite the six founding lines of the forefathers."
"Omega," the Doctor said weakly. "Omegon. Omegon Junior-"
"Shh," said Rose. She cast a dark look over her shoulder. "That goes for both of you." She stroked the hair back from the Doctor's dirtied forehead and patted his cheek. "Are you alright ? You were out there for half an hour- what did they want ?"
"They showed me the arena," he gritted out. "We're to be their show. I'm sorry, Rose- they're a backwater planet, starved for entertainment. There was nothing I could say- nothing I could do." He pounded his fist into the floor. "Why do they never listen to reason ?"
The Master sat up.
"Are you sure ? Are we sure ?" The Master shot a horrified glance at the Doctor. "Their show ?" He took in a deep breath to begin protesting and something occurred to him- his eyes swiveled and rested on Rose, and then slid down the front of her shirt in an entirely unsubtle motion. There was a long pause during which his thoughts, appearing like neon signs inside the Doctor's brain, became a vividly unpleasant shade of disco-carpet orange. "Well," he said. "If we must."
"We must," the Doctor said, raising an eyebrow. He sat up, reached for Rose and pulled her slightly closer to his side. "I'm afraid," he continued, in an incredibly clipped tone, "we're going to have to dance for our lives."
"Oh," said the Master. He sat back. "That."
"What did you think ?" Rose returned, now discreetly buttoning her top button. "He said they were starved for entertainment. What else would it be ? Water-skiing ? Competitive knitting ?" The Doctor and the Master both looked away at exactly the same instant, one of them whistling.
"Something like that," the Doctor coughed. "Now, we've got ten minutes to think of a routine, and then we're going straight to hair and makeup. We'll have to hustle. Or- don't literally hustle. I think they're a Strauss crowd. Maybe a bit of foxtrot. Do I know the foxtrot ?" He turned to Rose. "Could I manage a foxtrot, do you think ?"
"We should have taken Fed Astaire with us, after all," Rose said. "That poor man was dying to get off-planet."
"I could perform a passable imitation of ol' Freddy-boy." He wrapped an arm around her waist and tipped them both over; Rose burst out in sudden giggles. "What do you think, Ginger, my darling ?"
"I think I'm going to be sick," said the Master.
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YOU JUST GOT SERVED, INTERDIMENSIONALLY.
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ETA: Okay,
the_spin is right, that second one would be better with a ficlet. So here it is, darling ! (Just imagine that Rose twisted her ankle and could not compete, and got to watch from her plush box seats...)The light fantastic.
The cell door opened with a drawn-out squeal; a theatrical sound with a rich tone, typical of the more traditional prison complexes in Caxullula Majora. It was a good squeak- it raked itself down their eardrums and raised the smaller hairs on the back of their necks like a cat on a fence voicing an existential crisis.
They hurled him through the door.
"I still want my phone call," the Doctor said, from his new position on the concrete floor. A guard considered that for a moment, then pushed his body further into the cell with one booted foot and shut the door with a clang. Rose knelt over the Doctor and started to check his eyes for signs of a concussion.
"Nah," the Master drawled, from the rickety cot. He folded his hands across his knee. "His pupils will be fine. Cranial buffers. We don't concuss." He tilted his head, brightly. "But after blunt trauma we do tend to recite the six founding lines of the forefathers."
"Omega," the Doctor said weakly. "Omegon. Omegon Junior-"
"Shh," said Rose. She cast a dark look over her shoulder. "That goes for both of you." She stroked the hair back from the Doctor's dirtied forehead and patted his cheek. "Are you alright ? You were out there for half an hour- what did they want ?"
"They showed me the arena," he gritted out. "We're to be their show. I'm sorry, Rose- they're a backwater planet, starved for entertainment. There was nothing I could say- nothing I could do." He pounded his fist into the floor. "Why do they never listen to reason ?"
The Master sat up.
"Are you sure ? Are we sure ?" The Master shot a horrified glance at the Doctor. "Their show ?" He took in a deep breath to begin protesting and something occurred to him- his eyes swiveled and rested on Rose, and then slid down the front of her shirt in an entirely unsubtle motion. There was a long pause during which his thoughts, appearing like neon signs inside the Doctor's brain, became a vividly unpleasant shade of disco-carpet orange. "Well," he said. "If we must."
"We must," the Doctor said, raising an eyebrow. He sat up, reached for Rose and pulled her slightly closer to his side. "I'm afraid," he continued, in an incredibly clipped tone, "we're going to have to dance for our lives."
"Oh," said the Master. He sat back. "That."
"What did you think ?" Rose returned, now discreetly buttoning her top button. "He said they were starved for entertainment. What else would it be ? Water-skiing ? Competitive knitting ?" The Doctor and the Master both looked away at exactly the same instant, one of them whistling.
"Something like that," the Doctor coughed. "Now, we've got ten minutes to think of a routine, and then we're going straight to hair and makeup. We'll have to hustle. Or- don't literally hustle. I think they're a Strauss crowd. Maybe a bit of foxtrot. Do I know the foxtrot ?" He turned to Rose. "Could I manage a foxtrot, do you think ?"
"We should have taken Fed Astaire with us, after all," Rose said. "That poor man was dying to get off-planet."
"I could perform a passable imitation of ol' Freddy-boy." He wrapped an arm around her waist and tipped them both over; Rose burst out in sudden giggles. "What do you think, Ginger, my darling ?"
"I think I'm going to be sick," said the Master.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 03:53 pm (UTC)*rubs eyes*
*blinks*
*rubs eyes again*
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Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 04:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 04:33 pm (UTC)That second one. OMFG. I'm dead.
WORD TO YOUR MOTHER, ERM, LOOM.
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Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 04:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 05:16 pm (UTC)I AM MESMERIZED.
(ALSO, THAT JOHN SIMM PHOTO IS PRETTY WELL CHOSEN.)
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Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 05:36 pm (UTC)<33333333333
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Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 06:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 07:10 pm (UTC)WIN WIN WIN WIN. (THAT'S ME, RINGING LIKE A WIN BELL. FOR YOU.) OMG NOW I NEED TO MAKE A GENE HUNT ONE. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHYEAH.
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Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 07:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 01:38 pm (UTC)I'm thinking about it a little harder, actually...... I am going to make more of these. Like, a Gene Hunt one has become necessary. For life.
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Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 07:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008 08:07 pm (UTC)JUST SAYING.
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Date: Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 01:39 pm (UTC)You'll never know.
(YOU'LL KNOW PRETTY SOON.)
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Date: Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 01:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 02:58 pm (UTC)<3
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 03:38 pm (UTC)OMG WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE MY JOY. <3 <3 <3 <3
You know, I never particularly liked crackfic. Couldn't get into most because they seemed too out of character. AND THEN YOU CAME ALONG AND CHANGED MY LIFE WITH YOUR AWESOME.
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 04:10 pm (UTC)I think crackfic is funniest when it is in character. My favorite crack fics (typed "fix" first, how Freudian) are realistic but just a shade crazier than normal. Like, obviously these characters are already insane. All it would take is a handful of monkeys and some scotch tape to complete the picture.
ILU.
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 04:15 pm (UTC)Exactly! <3
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Date: Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 01:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 01:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 01:40 pm (UTC)<3
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Date: Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 03:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 04:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 04:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 04:23 pm (UTC)The internet has EVERYTHING.
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 06:49 pm (UTC)People ask me why I love it so, and it's totally obvious: the internet has everything. Bad things, good things, dumb things, awesome things. FRIENDS. PICTURES OF SPIDER-MONKEYS.
<3
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 06:52 pm (UTC)I think we need a challenge: post picture of the Doctor + cute fluffy animals! ;-)
*Goes off to hunt for appropriate pictures*
PAGING DOCTOR DOOLITTLE
Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 07:44 pm (UTC)Re: PAGING DOCTOR DOOLITTLE
Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 08:16 pm (UTC)*Saves*
I will stare at this nightly and worship at the altar of Doctor Pokes Kitties.
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 04:42 pm (UTC)*snorts* Our two favorite Time Lords do have a thing for blondes, don’t they?
Heh. Oh, Rose.
Brilliant, as always.
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 06:51 pm (UTC)Thank you so. <3
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 05:10 pm (UTC)Have you seen The Dark Knight yet? Because this:
"I still want my phone call," the Doctor said, from his new position on the concrete floor.
totally reminded me of it, and now I'm imagining the Doctor with a clown face. And also psychotic.
Additionally, I MISS MISTER MASTER.
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 05:33 pm (UTC)I love Mister Master. Every time I write him, I'm like "damn, why do I not do this all day long ?" (And then people in my office stare at me, because obviously I'm at work.)
Er, yeah. <3
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 05:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 06:18 pm (UTC)I love your universe. I'm moving in.
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 07:58 pm (UTC)I'll see you there bb.
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Date: Friday, July 25th, 2008 08:15 pm (UTC)Also, how your prose manages to have kickass analogies and just be so completely fantastic in mini crack!form is something I will never fathom.
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Date: Sunday, July 27th, 2008 08:33 am (UTC)Are there any vacancies in your world? I want to come too.