Incomplete Fics Meme
Oct. 14th, 2008 08:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_losficStolen from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gritsinmisery
When you see this, post an excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
Discounting the un-polished kink meme responses I still mean to post properly and the gorged monster that is the SfC folder, there are 18 things in my Who In Progress/Bits folder at the moment.
1. D/M crack is an ideas page: several rough things, jotted clumsily, probably only intelligible to me.
Wordcount:184
Excerpt: “But I want Brig and Jo to be like, in the room with the Doctor and the Master mid-scheme, breaking off to be like-- "So how's our little girl, then? Still getting good marks? Keeping well? Oh good, back to business. Now you DIE!"-- And to have the humans be all "?" And the Master be like "...what do you mean you 'didn't think it would be proper to tell them'? What do you mean 'divorce papers?!' We're, we're just SEPARATED! That's nothing like di-di-*hyperventilates*"”
2. Exquisite Corpse Summary: the plot arc in detail from some dark-fic you’ll see a chunk of next
Wordcount: 928
3. Exquisite Corpse: the Master has clone!Doctors on his TARDIS from Mind of Evil to the Time War. Lots of angst, Wrongness, dubcon and a high body-count.
Wordcount: 5,110
Pairing: fic all over the place, this section Delgado!Master/somewhat mentally hobbled Clone!Three
Excerpt: “Have the Time Lords done something irrepairable to me?” The Doctor asked, tone very quiet. He was sitting on the bed, feet on the floor, facing the wall. Turned away from him on the other side of the bed, the Master’s eyes widened, and he said nothing. “Something ruined in my mind, that you’ve tried to fix and can’t,” the Doctor continued, turning to lie down, to put a sure hand on the Master’s rigid back. “Please.”
“You’re fine,” the Master snapped, willing the Doctor to stop touching him, “Perfectly fine, just a little disoriented. It will pass, Doctor.”
“I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. Days? Months? What’s it closer to, Master?” The Doctor’s tone was hard, and the Master didn’t deign to answer him.
“I can’t live ignorant of everything that’s happening, unable to really think—I go back to my experiments and I have to read my own notes to understand what I was trying to do. There aren’t dates on the notes, but they’re copious. How long have I been like this?”
“Doctor—”
“If you loved me you’d kill me.”
4. Ficlet Notes: appears to be general
Wordcount: 119
5. Let No Man Tear Asunder: the Wedding Crack Sequel
Wordcount: 20,413
Pairing: here Five/Ainley!Master
Excerpt: “He’d startled the Doctor, who’d been paring fruit with a knife, which slid neatly into his thumb when he jumped. The Doctor touched the thumb to his mouth and sucked lightly. “You frightened me,” tone accusing, blue eyes wounded and dark. The Master had taken the digit and muttered an insincere apology, sweeping his tongue across the cut in a parody of kissing it better, then fastening his mouth to the Doctor’s shoving him up on the counter, tasting blood and its artron energy but mostly him. The Doctor dropped the knife to clatter in the sink, and minutes later—
“God, I love you, oh my—Master, ah!” It made him want to freeze dead, but he was so close, and he pressed on, shook the Doctor’s lazy, fond arm off his neck right after he’d finished and muttered something about wanting to shower.
“I’ll come and join you,” the Doctor suggested gamely. He must not have remembered saying that. With a fugitive look the Master brushed his offer off and thought that would be the end of it.
It wasn’t.”
6. Leer Bit: some quotes from the play I was going to work into something
Wordcount: 30
7. Let No Man Tear Asunder: Extraordinary Machine: i.e. The Big Plot Culmination Chapters, excerpted so I can work on them without having to angst about the unedited bulk of the thing
Wordcount: 2,860
Pairing: Five/Ainley!Master
Excerpt: “I’m so very close,” the Master interrupted in a musing tone, shaking his cautious touch off and taking the Doctor’s chin in his hand and rubbing his thumb across it in a parody of his normal fondness, “to killing you right now.” His murmur grew intimate. “Snapping that neck of yours he’s bruised so prettily. Oh I’d love to listen to you choke on whatever you’re about to say.”
The Doctor titled his captured chin up to give the Master a defiant look. “Now you know threats haven’t ever stopped me before.”
“No,” the Master gave his cheek a sharp pat that held the suggestion of a slap before releasing him entirely. “No you’ve never taken me terribly seriously, have you?”
8. Little Empires: a snipped out bit of something else, destined to become some larger fic, eventually. Here a conversation about developing android semen.
Wordcount: 232
Pairing: Shalka!Doctor/Shalka!Master
Excerpt: “I hate you.”
The Master made a sympathetic moue. “And Trial #58, apparently. You jumped like a scalded cat. Priceless. How’s the current blend? If you’ve made me reminiscent of bananas, I’m going to consider it a affront to my dignity.”
“I went for realism over the ‘ice cream cone I would buy’ approach, but another word on this from you and you’re turning into Baskin Robins.”
“Only 31 flavors?” The Master tsked. “Oh Doctor. I credit you with far more invention than that.”
9. Nadar of Lubefic: a saved conversation that has most of the basics down from a cracky fic about just that substance.
Excerpt: me: GOD, and then the Doctor makes some joke about how pretentious it is and he's crushed and never buys it again.
[Bad username or site: ”blinkidybah” @ livejournal.com]: >XD
me: And the Doctor's like, 3 centuries later, "Hey, whatever happened to INTRIGUE, that was kinda ‘our brand.’ Remember how much we enjoyed making fun of that stuff?"
And the Master, teeth grit, "NO."
"Aw, come on, we LOVED those pompous commercials!"
"You always use we. Is it a royal we? Are you the Queen of England, or just THE queen of England and getting uppity?"
10. Russia Three/Master: a bit of something I wrote when VERY new to the fandom. As such it’s Not Good, though I like the idea, and I afterwards decided it could be thoroughly re-written into an epic Leage of Extraordinary Gentlemen/Character Assassin crossover where I got a lot of glancing Russian Lit walk on characters for my personal amusement. I didn’t write that, though I may someday. This bit is from the Trans Siberian Railway (in League verse steam-punk tech is accelerated, so think an early opening in the late 19th century).
Wordcount: 3,543
Pairing: Three/Delgado!Master
Excerpt: “As if called into awareness by the thought of those wires trembling with the weight of the signals they carried, the Doctor felt he was being stared at. He knew the pressure on the back of his neck and across the width of his shoulders. He finished the honey cake and tried not to move too noticeably for several minutes. As the train pushed into a long tunnel and reflections from the lighted cabin became clear against the ebon background, he picked out the dark eyes fixed on him. In the chiaroscuro picture the Master’s face was distinct, but the Doctor couldn’t quite decipher the expression. Sad, perhaps, or maybe just closed. Wearily the Doctor picked up his suitcase and entered the cabin.
“How could you possibly know I would come this way? He asked, shoving his case under a bench and not looking at the other occupant, who sat on the bench as comfortably and commandingly as if he really were a Prince here. The Doctor was annoyed at himself for not noticing the Master’s distinct psychic presence at the station, though they must have been close if the Master could follow and ask for a ticket in the same cabin as him. The Master smiled lightly, seeming to stare down at the book in his lap, though the Doctor knew full well he hadn’t been reading it.
“You used to have big picture books in your room of Earth trains. You said you wanted to be a conductor once, when we were at your parent’s house and you showed me your toys. I asked why you’d ever want to waste yourself doing something so primitive and stupid. You cried and wouldn’t talk to me for an hour, not even when I said I was sorry. You insisted you hated me. Your mother had to make you apologize for being rude to a guest. I remember, if you don’t.” The Master leaned his head back against the cushion, with no expression on his face. “It was the first time I ever made you cry.” He paused, shut the book in his lap, smiled again at nothing. “Doctor, really. Of course I knew you’d take the train.””
11. Splatter Pattern: a shaved bit of SfC Chapter 8 part one, described by a beta as good but superfluous ‘baby!D/M Sherlock Holmes.’ She suggested I cut it and make it it’s own thing, perhaps. Good idea.
Wordcount: 463
Pairing: Theta/Koschei
Excerpt: “For a few months they swam through old journalism and police reports from ill-used corners of the accessible portion of the Matrix, where events and truths piled up so numerous as to be irrelevant.
They’d both believed that achieving understanding was important, that mastering a situation was impossible without minds sharp and refined as cut diamonds. They cut their mental baby teeth on all the old, memorable crimes of the galaxy that had never been solved for lack of evidence or a deficit of investigative intelligence. Eons of vice had been food for a brief, frantic hobby that their insular classmates, who believed the world began and ended at the sides of the Capitol dome, thought completely eccentric.
In due time they abandoned detection for their next passion, learning the ins and outs of manipulating time flow analogues (managing to ruin each other’s class experiments in their ongoing friendly war—they’d always been competitive). During their school days they’d run through so many areas of study, managing to learn more outside of class than in it. The Master now looked back with disquiet at how quickly the Doctor could loose all interest in something he’d simply adored the day before. The Master wondered why he’d always thought himself safe from being similarly forgotten and ignored.”
12. Srs Shalka: another meh attempt at writing that pairing.
Wordcount: 250
Pairing: Shalka!Doctor/Shalka!Master
Excerpt: “I hope you’re aware that you didn’t save me out of altuism.” The Master swept his gloved fingers delicately over the controls, seeking invisible dust.
“Oh no?” The Doctor looked over from the coil he was retooling, observing his companion’s textbook form without envy. So what if he lacked the Master’s technical precision? The Doctor didn’t pilot accurately—anyone could pilot accurately—but he piloted with wonderful expression.
“Merely a pretext. You were so desperate to obtain a half-competent operator you absolutely leapt at the opportunity to install me in this form.”
13. Ten/Donna O_O: an attempt to write a pairing I don’t care about for a friend who did devolved quickly into the Doctor having a thing for bossy redhead girls b/c he’d been married to one ages ago. This had a pretty cool ‘why the Master’s evil’ and rift explanation attached, but while that got plotted I didn’t get around to writing it.
Wordcount: 140
Pairing: Theta/Koschei, some Ten/Master here
Excerpt: Most bereaved widows have the comfort of telling themselves that their lost lover would have wanted them to move on. To start meaning it when they smiled again. To think of the dead without stumbling into a sort of mental pungee pit of loss and pain and choking hated of someone who you’d loved (hate for the dead because they left you, had the gall to die, hate for yourself for having let it happen, of yourself for living).
Even, in time, after death had done them part, and the widower could go whole hours without thinking of what he’d lost, most of those consigned to the grave would have wished for their living partner to kiss someone else and want it. And like it.
The Doctor, in the wake of the passing of the Master, had no such comforts.
14. The One With Russ: named from a Friends episode that’s Very Applicable, this has Doctor/War Chief as ENTIRELY distinct from Doctor/Master. Both are visiting/pissing off exiled!Three, to everyone’s dismay.
Wordcount:
Pairing: Delgado!Master/Three, in the bitter end
Excerpt: The Master would have looked flustered, but that’s difficult for someone with a rather olive complexion. Instead he leveled an eviscerating glare at Miss Grant. “Jealous? Let me assure you that between the War Chief and I there’s a vast chasm of difference, and I’m perfectly conscious that the disparity’s in my favor. Really,” he sneered, “as if I could possibly contemplate envy of that sniveling little pretender.”
“I don’t really see it,” Jo pointed out. “The vast chasm of difference thing. Even his coat looks a lot like yours.”
“Trust you to fixate on the sartorial, Miss Grant.”
“I’m not exactly sure what that is,” Jo said pleasantly, “but I’m pretty clear on the Doctor blanking you just now to run off with this War Chief.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Kind of sharp looking under the silly facial hair.” She turned an expression of innocent curiosity on the Master. “Is he younger than you?”
15. Thing foraralias: an attempt to write a decent audio!eight voice, and to make aralias less bored at work. Admittedly a touch cracky.
Wordcount: 2,992
Pairing: Eight/Jacobi!Master
Excerpt: “The alien on the throne sighed, his fur ruffling itself softly with the motion. “Must you ask this as the reward for your assistance? I was so looking forward to seeing it dance.”
“I’d spare yourself, Majesty. His Charleston, while spirited, lacks form, and his Venusian Waltzing normally involves broken furniture by the end of the set.”
“That’s rather the point of Venusian waltzing, Master.””
16. Three: three/master kidnapping happily ever after fic, in which there’s supposed to be a future!Prague!steam-punk society and a golemn (well, it is Prague).
Wordcount: 1746
Pairing: Three/Delgado!Master
Excerpt: ““Look here,” the Doctor’s eyes narrowed right on cue, because the Master had known how best to goad him into something for nearly the entirety of their long lives, and had made something of an art of it, “I’ll come along, as I don’t see how I have any other choice in the matter. But why would you shanghai a man you loathe and invite him to share a galactic Grand Tour?”
The Master gave him a shocked, somewhat goggle-eyed look, as if he’d been unexpectedly smacked. “Naturally I chose you! Disagreements aside, you’re—well.” The Master shrugged, a little baffled. “You must know that I regard you very highly. Who better to cheer myself up with? We were inseparable friends for centuries, after all.””
17. Three/Master Big Fic: repeat of above? Why do I have this one here twice? Is one edited?
18. Yana/Doctor: The beginning of a ‘Ten takes Yana as a companion knowing perfectly well what’s in that watch’ fic, to include Ten stealing the watch and chatting with it, and clueless!Yana just delighted with Ten. Eventually the watch has to be opened and Yana!Master to be pissed, otherwise it’s like Chekov’s dueling pistols not getting used.
Wordcount: 137
Pairing:Ten/Yana
Excerpt: “Martha doesn’t notice the watch he fondles in the pocket of his waist coat, though Chantho’s noticed he’d developed a habit of constantly stroking it since the Doctor’s arrived, like something’s worrying at him.”
gritsinmiseryWhen you see this, post an excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
Discounting the un-polished kink meme responses I still mean to post properly and the gorged monster that is the SfC folder, there are 18 things in my Who In Progress/Bits folder at the moment.
1. D/M crack is an ideas page: several rough things, jotted clumsily, probably only intelligible to me.
Wordcount:184
Excerpt: “But I want Brig and Jo to be like, in the room with the Doctor and the Master mid-scheme, breaking off to be like-- "So how's our little girl, then? Still getting good marks? Keeping well? Oh good, back to business. Now you DIE!"-- And to have the humans be all "?" And the Master be like "...what do you mean you 'didn't think it would be proper to tell them'? What do you mean 'divorce papers?!' We're, we're just SEPARATED! That's nothing like di-di-*hyperventilates*"”
2. Exquisite Corpse Summary: the plot arc in detail from some dark-fic you’ll see a chunk of next
Wordcount: 928
3. Exquisite Corpse: the Master has clone!Doctors on his TARDIS from Mind of Evil to the Time War. Lots of angst, Wrongness, dubcon and a high body-count.
Wordcount: 5,110
Pairing: fic all over the place, this section Delgado!Master/somewhat mentally hobbled Clone!Three
Excerpt: “Have the Time Lords done something irrepairable to me?” The Doctor asked, tone very quiet. He was sitting on the bed, feet on the floor, facing the wall. Turned away from him on the other side of the bed, the Master’s eyes widened, and he said nothing. “Something ruined in my mind, that you’ve tried to fix and can’t,” the Doctor continued, turning to lie down, to put a sure hand on the Master’s rigid back. “Please.”
“You’re fine,” the Master snapped, willing the Doctor to stop touching him, “Perfectly fine, just a little disoriented. It will pass, Doctor.”
“I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. Days? Months? What’s it closer to, Master?” The Doctor’s tone was hard, and the Master didn’t deign to answer him.
“I can’t live ignorant of everything that’s happening, unable to really think—I go back to my experiments and I have to read my own notes to understand what I was trying to do. There aren’t dates on the notes, but they’re copious. How long have I been like this?”
“Doctor—”
“If you loved me you’d kill me.”
4. Ficlet Notes: appears to be general
Wordcount: 119
5. Let No Man Tear Asunder: the Wedding Crack Sequel
Wordcount: 20,413
Pairing: here Five/Ainley!Master
Excerpt: “He’d startled the Doctor, who’d been paring fruit with a knife, which slid neatly into his thumb when he jumped. The Doctor touched the thumb to his mouth and sucked lightly. “You frightened me,” tone accusing, blue eyes wounded and dark. The Master had taken the digit and muttered an insincere apology, sweeping his tongue across the cut in a parody of kissing it better, then fastening his mouth to the Doctor’s shoving him up on the counter, tasting blood and its artron energy but mostly him. The Doctor dropped the knife to clatter in the sink, and minutes later—
“God, I love you, oh my—Master, ah!” It made him want to freeze dead, but he was so close, and he pressed on, shook the Doctor’s lazy, fond arm off his neck right after he’d finished and muttered something about wanting to shower.
“I’ll come and join you,” the Doctor suggested gamely. He must not have remembered saying that. With a fugitive look the Master brushed his offer off and thought that would be the end of it.
It wasn’t.”
6. Leer Bit: some quotes from the play I was going to work into something
Wordcount: 30
7. Let No Man Tear Asunder: Extraordinary Machine: i.e. The Big Plot Culmination Chapters, excerpted so I can work on them without having to angst about the unedited bulk of the thing
Wordcount: 2,860
Pairing: Five/Ainley!Master
Excerpt: “I’m so very close,” the Master interrupted in a musing tone, shaking his cautious touch off and taking the Doctor’s chin in his hand and rubbing his thumb across it in a parody of his normal fondness, “to killing you right now.” His murmur grew intimate. “Snapping that neck of yours he’s bruised so prettily. Oh I’d love to listen to you choke on whatever you’re about to say.”
The Doctor titled his captured chin up to give the Master a defiant look. “Now you know threats haven’t ever stopped me before.”
“No,” the Master gave his cheek a sharp pat that held the suggestion of a slap before releasing him entirely. “No you’ve never taken me terribly seriously, have you?”
8. Little Empires: a snipped out bit of something else, destined to become some larger fic, eventually. Here a conversation about developing android semen.
Wordcount: 232
Pairing: Shalka!Doctor/Shalka!Master
Excerpt: “I hate you.”
The Master made a sympathetic moue. “And Trial #58, apparently. You jumped like a scalded cat. Priceless. How’s the current blend? If you’ve made me reminiscent of bananas, I’m going to consider it a affront to my dignity.”
“I went for realism over the ‘ice cream cone I would buy’ approach, but another word on this from you and you’re turning into Baskin Robins.”
“Only 31 flavors?” The Master tsked. “Oh Doctor. I credit you with far more invention than that.”
9. Nadar of Lubefic: a saved conversation that has most of the basics down from a cracky fic about just that substance.
Excerpt: me: GOD, and then the Doctor makes some joke about how pretentious it is and he's crushed and never buys it again.
[Bad username or site: ”blinkidybah” @ livejournal.com]: >XD
me: And the Doctor's like, 3 centuries later, "Hey, whatever happened to INTRIGUE, that was kinda ‘our brand.’ Remember how much we enjoyed making fun of that stuff?"
And the Master, teeth grit, "NO."
"Aw, come on, we LOVED those pompous commercials!"
"You always use we. Is it a royal we? Are you the Queen of England, or just THE queen of England and getting uppity?"
10. Russia Three/Master: a bit of something I wrote when VERY new to the fandom. As such it’s Not Good, though I like the idea, and I afterwards decided it could be thoroughly re-written into an epic Leage of Extraordinary Gentlemen/Character Assassin crossover where I got a lot of glancing Russian Lit walk on characters for my personal amusement. I didn’t write that, though I may someday. This bit is from the Trans Siberian Railway (in League verse steam-punk tech is accelerated, so think an early opening in the late 19th century).
Wordcount: 3,543
Pairing: Three/Delgado!Master
Excerpt: “As if called into awareness by the thought of those wires trembling with the weight of the signals they carried, the Doctor felt he was being stared at. He knew the pressure on the back of his neck and across the width of his shoulders. He finished the honey cake and tried not to move too noticeably for several minutes. As the train pushed into a long tunnel and reflections from the lighted cabin became clear against the ebon background, he picked out the dark eyes fixed on him. In the chiaroscuro picture the Master’s face was distinct, but the Doctor couldn’t quite decipher the expression. Sad, perhaps, or maybe just closed. Wearily the Doctor picked up his suitcase and entered the cabin.
“How could you possibly know I would come this way? He asked, shoving his case under a bench and not looking at the other occupant, who sat on the bench as comfortably and commandingly as if he really were a Prince here. The Doctor was annoyed at himself for not noticing the Master’s distinct psychic presence at the station, though they must have been close if the Master could follow and ask for a ticket in the same cabin as him. The Master smiled lightly, seeming to stare down at the book in his lap, though the Doctor knew full well he hadn’t been reading it.
“You used to have big picture books in your room of Earth trains. You said you wanted to be a conductor once, when we were at your parent’s house and you showed me your toys. I asked why you’d ever want to waste yourself doing something so primitive and stupid. You cried and wouldn’t talk to me for an hour, not even when I said I was sorry. You insisted you hated me. Your mother had to make you apologize for being rude to a guest. I remember, if you don’t.” The Master leaned his head back against the cushion, with no expression on his face. “It was the first time I ever made you cry.” He paused, shut the book in his lap, smiled again at nothing. “Doctor, really. Of course I knew you’d take the train.””
11. Splatter Pattern: a shaved bit of SfC Chapter 8 part one, described by a beta as good but superfluous ‘baby!D/M Sherlock Holmes.’ She suggested I cut it and make it it’s own thing, perhaps. Good idea.
Wordcount: 463
Pairing: Theta/Koschei
Excerpt: “For a few months they swam through old journalism and police reports from ill-used corners of the accessible portion of the Matrix, where events and truths piled up so numerous as to be irrelevant.
They’d both believed that achieving understanding was important, that mastering a situation was impossible without minds sharp and refined as cut diamonds. They cut their mental baby teeth on all the old, memorable crimes of the galaxy that had never been solved for lack of evidence or a deficit of investigative intelligence. Eons of vice had been food for a brief, frantic hobby that their insular classmates, who believed the world began and ended at the sides of the Capitol dome, thought completely eccentric.
In due time they abandoned detection for their next passion, learning the ins and outs of manipulating time flow analogues (managing to ruin each other’s class experiments in their ongoing friendly war—they’d always been competitive). During their school days they’d run through so many areas of study, managing to learn more outside of class than in it. The Master now looked back with disquiet at how quickly the Doctor could loose all interest in something he’d simply adored the day before. The Master wondered why he’d always thought himself safe from being similarly forgotten and ignored.”
12. Srs Shalka: another meh attempt at writing that pairing.
Wordcount: 250
Pairing: Shalka!Doctor/Shalka!Master
Excerpt: “I hope you’re aware that you didn’t save me out of altuism.” The Master swept his gloved fingers delicately over the controls, seeking invisible dust.
“Oh no?” The Doctor looked over from the coil he was retooling, observing his companion’s textbook form without envy. So what if he lacked the Master’s technical precision? The Doctor didn’t pilot accurately—anyone could pilot accurately—but he piloted with wonderful expression.
“Merely a pretext. You were so desperate to obtain a half-competent operator you absolutely leapt at the opportunity to install me in this form.”
13. Ten/Donna O_O: an attempt to write a pairing I don’t care about for a friend who did devolved quickly into the Doctor having a thing for bossy redhead girls b/c he’d been married to one ages ago. This had a pretty cool ‘why the Master’s evil’ and rift explanation attached, but while that got plotted I didn’t get around to writing it.
Wordcount: 140
Pairing: Theta/Koschei, some Ten/Master here
Excerpt: Most bereaved widows have the comfort of telling themselves that their lost lover would have wanted them to move on. To start meaning it when they smiled again. To think of the dead without stumbling into a sort of mental pungee pit of loss and pain and choking hated of someone who you’d loved (hate for the dead because they left you, had the gall to die, hate for yourself for having let it happen, of yourself for living).
Even, in time, after death had done them part, and the widower could go whole hours without thinking of what he’d lost, most of those consigned to the grave would have wished for their living partner to kiss someone else and want it. And like it.
The Doctor, in the wake of the passing of the Master, had no such comforts.
14. The One With Russ: named from a Friends episode that’s Very Applicable, this has Doctor/War Chief as ENTIRELY distinct from Doctor/Master. Both are visiting/pissing off exiled!Three, to everyone’s dismay.
Wordcount:
Pairing: Delgado!Master/Three, in the bitter end
Excerpt: The Master would have looked flustered, but that’s difficult for someone with a rather olive complexion. Instead he leveled an eviscerating glare at Miss Grant. “Jealous? Let me assure you that between the War Chief and I there’s a vast chasm of difference, and I’m perfectly conscious that the disparity’s in my favor. Really,” he sneered, “as if I could possibly contemplate envy of that sniveling little pretender.”
“I don’t really see it,” Jo pointed out. “The vast chasm of difference thing. Even his coat looks a lot like yours.”
“Trust you to fixate on the sartorial, Miss Grant.”
“I’m not exactly sure what that is,” Jo said pleasantly, “but I’m pretty clear on the Doctor blanking you just now to run off with this War Chief.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Kind of sharp looking under the silly facial hair.” She turned an expression of innocent curiosity on the Master. “Is he younger than you?”
15. Thing for
aralias: an attempt to write a decent audio!eight voice, and to make aralias less bored at work. Admittedly a touch cracky.Wordcount: 2,992
Pairing: Eight/Jacobi!Master
Excerpt: “The alien on the throne sighed, his fur ruffling itself softly with the motion. “Must you ask this as the reward for your assistance? I was so looking forward to seeing it dance.”
“I’d spare yourself, Majesty. His Charleston, while spirited, lacks form, and his Venusian Waltzing normally involves broken furniture by the end of the set.”
“That’s rather the point of Venusian waltzing, Master.””
16. Three: three/master kidnapping happily ever after fic, in which there’s supposed to be a future!Prague!steam-punk society and a golemn (well, it is Prague).
Wordcount: 1746
Pairing: Three/Delgado!Master
Excerpt: ““Look here,” the Doctor’s eyes narrowed right on cue, because the Master had known how best to goad him into something for nearly the entirety of their long lives, and had made something of an art of it, “I’ll come along, as I don’t see how I have any other choice in the matter. But why would you shanghai a man you loathe and invite him to share a galactic Grand Tour?”
The Master gave him a shocked, somewhat goggle-eyed look, as if he’d been unexpectedly smacked. “Naturally I chose you! Disagreements aside, you’re—well.” The Master shrugged, a little baffled. “You must know that I regard you very highly. Who better to cheer myself up with? We were inseparable friends for centuries, after all.””
17. Three/Master Big Fic: repeat of above? Why do I have this one here twice? Is one edited?
18. Yana/Doctor: The beginning of a ‘Ten takes Yana as a companion knowing perfectly well what’s in that watch’ fic, to include Ten stealing the watch and chatting with it, and clueless!Yana just delighted with Ten. Eventually the watch has to be opened and Yana!Master to be pissed, otherwise it’s like Chekov’s dueling pistols not getting used.
Wordcount: 137
Pairing:Ten/Yana
Excerpt: “Martha doesn’t notice the watch he fondles in the pocket of his waist coat, though Chantho’s noticed he’d developed a habit of constantly stroking it since the Doctor’s arrived, like something’s worrying at him.”
