you're always running into people's unconscious (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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crack_van2010-09-29 09:03 pm
innocentsmith.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-09-29 09:03 pm
Entry tags:
Living Things by Bagheera (NC-17)
Fandom: DOCTOR WHO
Pairing: Doctor/Master (Shalka!Doctor/sexbotShalka!Master)
Length: 16,889 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bagheera_san
Author Website: Fic masterlist
Why this must be read:
The animated serial "Scream of the Shalka" presents us with an odd, semi-canonical AU. The Doctor, thin, bitter, and dark, is inexplicably at the beck and call of the Time Lords. And he's sharing his TARDIS with an android version of the Master, with whom he seems to have a very, um, domestic sort of relationship. (For a given value of "domestic" that includes the occasional murder attempt.) It's great fodder for the Doctor/Master ship, but really: what's going on?
"Living Things" provides us with a brilliant backstory, as the Doctor makes a dangerous bargain out of loneliness, pity, self-destructiveness, and spite, and then has to come to some kind of equilibrium with his old enemy, and with himself.
The Master hadn't given up on his plans to steal the Doctor's body. He had forgotten about it for a time while they worked together, even though he hadn't actively tried to hide it. They'd both kept their secrets. The moment his mechanical eyes opened to the world, he would start with the recriminations, the taunts, the mindgames both petty and brilliant. He'd torture the Doctor with dark hints about his new state of being until the Doctor was soft and weakened and would succumb to his still superior psychic powers
"It's ironic, isn't it?" he asked. Being a head without body or limbs (and so far without skin or hair) was disconcerting. He had been vast and shapeless as a psychic pattern inside the oceanic mind of the TARDIS, more like a swarm of fish than a person. Now he couldn't move nor see nor sense his body, locked inside a dark metallic casing. So far all he could do was talk and listen as the Doctor fiddled with the pair of eyes he was about to insert into the yet empty eye-sockets. He did like his voice, though; the Doctor had done a good job of getting it just right. With a ribcage to add proper resonance, it would be perfect. In a way, the Doctor's attention to detail was flattering.
"You mean that after years and years of you trying to kill me, I'm saving your life?"
"No, I mean that after years and years of you fighting Daleks and Cybermen, you've finally become the creator of just such a creature. Just think what old Davros would say if he knew that you're joining the mad scientist ranks!"
The Doctor scoffed. "If anyone has turned you into a monster, it was you. I'm just salvaging what's left." His point, the Master had to concede, was valid, but he thought he heard a strain of discomfort in the Doctor's voice. He didn't like the comparison to Daleks and Cybermen, just as the Master had expected. "So you do know Davros, then? I always wondered if you two met behind my back."
"Alas, yes," the Master answered, too amused by the gossip to pursue his attempt at needling the. "He was very keen on an alliance – that is when he wasn't accusing me of secretly planning to steal his Daleks or working for the Time Lords. A paranoid, self-pitying plodder, isn't he? And it's hard to get a word in once he gets going."
"Yes, quite," the Doctor said dryly. "And that insane laughter every five minutes. Ridiculous man."
"Doctor! Are you comparing me to Davros? You wound me! No, really, you do."
"An eye for an eye," was the serene reply as the Doctor plugged in first the left, then the right mechanical eyeball. Vision flooded back into the Master's mind, light and shadows and colours, and finally he sorted the information into the shape of the Doctor's face, leaning close and watching him with genuine humour lighting up his pale eyes. "You started it, you should have known the ice was thin."
Living Things
Pairing: Doctor/Master (Shalka!Doctor/
Length: 16,889 words
Author on LJ:
bagheera_sanAuthor Website: Fic masterlist
Why this must be read:
The animated serial "Scream of the Shalka" presents us with an odd, semi-canonical AU. The Doctor, thin, bitter, and dark, is inexplicably at the beck and call of the Time Lords. And he's sharing his TARDIS with an android version of the Master, with whom he seems to have a very, um, domestic sort of relationship. (For a given value of "domestic" that includes the occasional murder attempt.) It's great fodder for the Doctor/Master ship, but really: what's going on?
"Living Things" provides us with a brilliant backstory, as the Doctor makes a dangerous bargain out of loneliness, pity, self-destructiveness, and spite, and then has to come to some kind of equilibrium with his old enemy, and with himself.
The Master hadn't given up on his plans to steal the Doctor's body. He had forgotten about it for a time while they worked together, even though he hadn't actively tried to hide it. They'd both kept their secrets. The moment his mechanical eyes opened to the world, he would start with the recriminations, the taunts, the mindgames both petty and brilliant. He'd torture the Doctor with dark hints about his new state of being until the Doctor was soft and weakened and would succumb to his still superior psychic powers
"It's ironic, isn't it?" he asked. Being a head without body or limbs (and so far without skin or hair) was disconcerting. He had been vast and shapeless as a psychic pattern inside the oceanic mind of the TARDIS, more like a swarm of fish than a person. Now he couldn't move nor see nor sense his body, locked inside a dark metallic casing. So far all he could do was talk and listen as the Doctor fiddled with the pair of eyes he was about to insert into the yet empty eye-sockets. He did like his voice, though; the Doctor had done a good job of getting it just right. With a ribcage to add proper resonance, it would be perfect. In a way, the Doctor's attention to detail was flattering.
"You mean that after years and years of you trying to kill me, I'm saving your life?"
"No, I mean that after years and years of you fighting Daleks and Cybermen, you've finally become the creator of just such a creature. Just think what old Davros would say if he knew that you're joining the mad scientist ranks!"
The Doctor scoffed. "If anyone has turned you into a monster, it was you. I'm just salvaging what's left." His point, the Master had to concede, was valid, but he thought he heard a strain of discomfort in the Doctor's voice. He didn't like the comparison to Daleks and Cybermen, just as the Master had expected. "So you do know Davros, then? I always wondered if you two met behind my back."
"Alas, yes," the Master answered, too amused by the gossip to pursue his attempt at needling the. "He was very keen on an alliance – that is when he wasn't accusing me of secretly planning to steal his Daleks or working for the Time Lords. A paranoid, self-pitying plodder, isn't he? And it's hard to get a word in once he gets going."
"Yes, quite," the Doctor said dryly. "And that insane laughter every five minutes. Ridiculous man."
"Doctor! Are you comparing me to Davros? You wound me! No, really, you do."
"An eye for an eye," was the serene reply as the Doctor plugged in first the left, then the right mechanical eyeball. Vision flooded back into the Master's mind, light and shadows and colours, and finally he sorted the information into the shape of the Doctor's face, leaning close and watching him with genuine humour lighting up his pale eyes. "You started it, you should have known the ice was thin."
Living Things