[oncoming_storms] - How to write OOCly; or, A Crackfic
"Well, that's strange," said the Doctor in a most perplexed tone.
"What is?" asked the girl beside him as she dusted off her jeans.
The Doctor didn't answer immediately, stroking his chin as he contemplated the large blue box in front of him and the key he twisted idly between forefinger and thumb. After a long moment, he seemed about to say something, going so far as to open his mouth, but shut it again instead, staring at the door to his ship.
Alison rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna be out with it or not?"
"Hmm? Oh, right, yes," said the Doctor, seemingly surprised she was still there -- or, at least, pestering him. "It would seem we're locked out."
"What do you mean locked out? You've got a key right there! Did you pick up the wrong one or something?"
The Doctor frowned uncertainly, then reached into his pockets, searching. Coming up empty-handed, he 'hmmm'd' again and instead tried inserting the key into the lock. It shot back out almost immediately, an angry little projectile hell-bent on flying at least twenty metres behind him and the Doctor narrowed his eyes. "Now see here," he harrumphed. "This isn't a game!"
Alison stared, taken aback at the apparent admonishment. "I didn't do anything!" she cried defensively.
He ignored her entirely. "You will change the lock back this instant and let me inside." The silence stretched on after his words; Alison remained confused. Who was he talking to? "What do you mean, you don't want me anymore? Don't be daft, of course you want me. I'm your pilot." Another silence fell and Alison shifted uncomfortably, opting to turn and search for the key that had landed somewhere behind them, instead. Finding the proverbial needle in the haystack was far less awkward than standing around and listening to the Doctor rant to himself.
Which he continued doing. At length. "This is ridiculous; you don't hate me!" he cried, and there was a loud banging as he began pounding on the door. "What's gotten into you? Is this because I didn't tell you where I was going? I couldn't risk them finding out -- that's hardly fair!" Another pound and a loud huff. "You will open this door!" A pause. "The hordes of Genghis Khan aren't me. But very well. If you want to play that game."
Alison turned back in time to see the Doctor pull out his sonic screwdriver and point it at the police box. There was a painfully loud groaning noise and he snapped something in a language she couldn't understand, but then the doors popped open and he grinned triumphantly, pushing his way inside.
"MASTER?" came the sudden angry bellow and the girl decided being in the time machine was far more interesting than being outside and so scurried to join the Doctor, who was staring incredulously at a well-kept, dark-haired man inside the police box.
"Stubborn as ever, I see," the other man said smoothly, leaning casually against the console as he considered the Doctor in the doorway. "I suppose there's nothing for it, though. You are aware you're trespassing."
"What have you done to my ship?!"
The Master gave him a quizzical look, hands clasped behind him. "Nothing at all. We've decided we're in love and plan to elope. You're no longer wanted. So if you'll just carry on elsewhere, we'll be going." He pursed his lips. "As soon as I rework this horrible isomorphic setting you've tossed on."
"You're stealing my ship!"
"Don't be theatrical," the Master replied drolly. "She just doesn't want you anymore. Do you, dear?" The central Time Rotor moved languidly as though in agreement, the lights dimming and a cool breeze brushing against the Doctor and Alison; the girl shivered. Did a ship just give her the cold shoulder? "See? She's seen the error of her ways, Doctor. She prefers me, and has said she wants to go far away from you. So if you'd be so kind...?"
The Doctor couldn't seem to believe this and strode over to the console. "My ship would never leave me," he said stiffly, punching in controls and coordinates. "You've done something to her and now she needs to be repaired. That's all -- ouch! That was beyond unnecessary!" He glared at the console. "You're joking! You can't like him more than me -- he isn't even real! I built him, you silly girl!" Another cold chill ran through the console room and Alison swore she saw her breath. "He does not treat you better than I do! He doesn't -- Jamie? What? What do you mean, you want to see Jo? And Peri? You hated Peri!" The Doctor looked absolutely flabbergasted. "Have a chat with Miss Pollard? Your circuits must be rewired! What has he done to you?!"
The Master chuckled quietly. "Nothing, Doctor. I've done nothing. But I must thank you for imputing the coordinates. I'm sure the mechanics can help me overwrite your isomorphic controls." The Doctor looked up, stunned, before being thrown back by what looked like a laser in the Master's hand. The other man smirked and turned toward Alison. "I suggest you pick him up and take him outside before I change the setting to something more, shall we say, permanent, hmm?"
The Doctor wasn't nearly as heavy as he looked and Alison dragged him outside as instructed, sitting in the cold grass as his ship groaned and creaked and disappeared. After a long time, he seemed to stir, holding his head, and looked at the empty place his ship had been.
"She'll be back," he said petulantly.
"What makes you so sure?"
He sniffed. "Because the Master is a rubbish lover. She'll see."
Alison, however, decided she didn't want to know, and so simply kept silent.
Muse: The TARDIS
Word Count: 945
"What is?" asked the girl beside him as she dusted off her jeans.
The Doctor didn't answer immediately, stroking his chin as he contemplated the large blue box in front of him and the key he twisted idly between forefinger and thumb. After a long moment, he seemed about to say something, going so far as to open his mouth, but shut it again instead, staring at the door to his ship.
Alison rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna be out with it or not?"
"Hmm? Oh, right, yes," said the Doctor, seemingly surprised she was still there -- or, at least, pestering him. "It would seem we're locked out."
"What do you mean locked out? You've got a key right there! Did you pick up the wrong one or something?"
The Doctor frowned uncertainly, then reached into his pockets, searching. Coming up empty-handed, he 'hmmm'd' again and instead tried inserting the key into the lock. It shot back out almost immediately, an angry little projectile hell-bent on flying at least twenty metres behind him and the Doctor narrowed his eyes. "Now see here," he harrumphed. "This isn't a game!"
Alison stared, taken aback at the apparent admonishment. "I didn't do anything!" she cried defensively.
He ignored her entirely. "You will change the lock back this instant and let me inside." The silence stretched on after his words; Alison remained confused. Who was he talking to? "What do you mean, you don't want me anymore? Don't be daft, of course you want me. I'm your pilot." Another silence fell and Alison shifted uncomfortably, opting to turn and search for the key that had landed somewhere behind them, instead. Finding the proverbial needle in the haystack was far less awkward than standing around and listening to the Doctor rant to himself.
Which he continued doing. At length. "This is ridiculous; you don't hate me!" he cried, and there was a loud banging as he began pounding on the door. "What's gotten into you? Is this because I didn't tell you where I was going? I couldn't risk them finding out -- that's hardly fair!" Another pound and a loud huff. "You will open this door!" A pause. "The hordes of Genghis Khan aren't me. But very well. If you want to play that game."
Alison turned back in time to see the Doctor pull out his sonic screwdriver and point it at the police box. There was a painfully loud groaning noise and he snapped something in a language she couldn't understand, but then the doors popped open and he grinned triumphantly, pushing his way inside.
"MASTER?" came the sudden angry bellow and the girl decided being in the time machine was far more interesting than being outside and so scurried to join the Doctor, who was staring incredulously at a well-kept, dark-haired man inside the police box.
"Stubborn as ever, I see," the other man said smoothly, leaning casually against the console as he considered the Doctor in the doorway. "I suppose there's nothing for it, though. You are aware you're trespassing."
"What have you done to my ship?!"
The Master gave him a quizzical look, hands clasped behind him. "Nothing at all. We've decided we're in love and plan to elope. You're no longer wanted. So if you'll just carry on elsewhere, we'll be going." He pursed his lips. "As soon as I rework this horrible isomorphic setting you've tossed on."
"You're stealing my ship!"
"Don't be theatrical," the Master replied drolly. "She just doesn't want you anymore. Do you, dear?" The central Time Rotor moved languidly as though in agreement, the lights dimming and a cool breeze brushing against the Doctor and Alison; the girl shivered. Did a ship just give her the cold shoulder? "See? She's seen the error of her ways, Doctor. She prefers me, and has said she wants to go far away from you. So if you'd be so kind...?"
The Doctor couldn't seem to believe this and strode over to the console. "My ship would never leave me," he said stiffly, punching in controls and coordinates. "You've done something to her and now she needs to be repaired. That's all -- ouch! That was beyond unnecessary!" He glared at the console. "You're joking! You can't like him more than me -- he isn't even real! I built him, you silly girl!" Another cold chill ran through the console room and Alison swore she saw her breath. "He does not treat you better than I do! He doesn't -- Jamie? What? What do you mean, you want to see Jo? And Peri? You hated Peri!" The Doctor looked absolutely flabbergasted. "Have a chat with Miss Pollard? Your circuits must be rewired! What has he done to you?!"
The Master chuckled quietly. "Nothing, Doctor. I've done nothing. But I must thank you for imputing the coordinates. I'm sure the mechanics can help me overwrite your isomorphic controls." The Doctor looked up, stunned, before being thrown back by what looked like a laser in the Master's hand. The other man smirked and turned toward Alison. "I suggest you pick him up and take him outside before I change the setting to something more, shall we say, permanent, hmm?"
The Doctor wasn't nearly as heavy as he looked and Alison dragged him outside as instructed, sitting in the cold grass as his ship groaned and creaked and disappeared. After a long time, he seemed to stir, holding his head, and looked at the empty place his ship had been.
"She'll be back," he said petulantly.
"What makes you so sure?"
He sniffed. "Because the Master is a rubbish lover. She'll see."
Alison, however, decided she didn't want to know, and so simply kept silent.
Muse: The TARDIS
Word Count: 945