writers_muses Prompt set #116.3.Ficlet Least favorite holiday moment
In favor of not neglecting a Master!muse, which I still firmly believe is impossible, and also to try and wind my mind down, I am writing. Yay! *looks around expectantly for dancing and cheering*
Fine. Be that way. The Master does not require your dancing or cheering. So. Onto fic!
The Master noted that he currently had quite a stunning view of London at this time of year. However, the mood of the moment was lost quickly as he had to regain his hold on the icy ledge he was currently gripping to keep from falling to a rather premature death. Of course he could regenerate but he quite enjoyed this body and was loathe to part with it so quickly.
"DOCTOR!"
His throat was hoarse but that was only from the cold, never desperation. Minutes passed and the Master was beginning to count all the ways he could torture the Doctor without the use of his screwdriver and without him dying. It was then he realized that he was beginning to lose his grip because his fingers were practically frozen. He heard footsteps from the roof above him and an unmistakable, unruly haired Time Lord poked his head over the side. He regarded the Master with a scrunched up face that obviously signified confusion.
"Master, what are you doing down there?!"
"What does it matter what I'm doing here? I'm hanging on for dear life! Did you think I was merely sightseeing?!" Obviously, his snappishness was due to his predicament, not the Doctor's glaring stupidity.
"Oi! No call for that, just hold on a second."
"Of course, my dear Doctor, I haven't been doing that for quite some time already. What in blazes were you doing anyway?"
"I was chasing the creature, what else?" He wanted very much to readjust his grip but he was concerned that he might never regain it if he were to let go now.
"Wait-" The Master thought he heard the sound of rope being pulled across the ground over the Doctor's voice. "-You were chasing it? No, I was chasing it."
"You're becoming senile look below me and you'll see it lying there."
The Doctor looked over the ledge again, casting a mournful glance at the creature's body on the snow covered ground. "What happened?"
"It fell."
"But it seemed quite agile when we first-"
"After I hit it with a very large piece of pipe."
"Oh, did you have to?"
"DOCTOR, FOCUS!"
"Right, right." He lobbed the rope over the side and the Master grunted when it smacked him in the face. Once he regained feeling in his extremities, the Doctor would be subjected to a very painful death. However, before he could let go to grab onto the rope it jerked, his fellow Time Lord lowering himself.
"Imbecile, what are you doing? The idea is to pull me up!" The Master hissed and was rewarded with a scoff. "Look I tossed down quite a bit. We can lower ourselves and drop the rest of the way." he explained as he slid down next to him. "Now, grab on."
"No."
"Master."
"I said no. Using my name gets you nothing. I am not a damsel in distress, I will not-" His tirade was silenced by a growl from the roof and both Time Lords cast wary glances upwards. "You said you were chasing one as well?" he asked, voice taking a softer note.
"Yeah. I'm inclined to think you might have killed its mate."
"The wonders never cease."
"Keep quiet and don't move."
"Right, because I can hold on forever."
"Shh!" he hissed as it moved away from the ledge and the Master ignored his internal voice of protest and managed to swing over enough to latch onto the Doctor's back. He grunted at the extra weight but started lowering them both. Then the rope surged.
The Master glared at the Doctor. "Perhaps I'll get lucky and you'll regenerate into someone I'll like."
The Doctor's retort was cut off by the rope snapping from the ledge above them and the two of them landing in a heap in a snow bank.
Muse: The Master
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 662
Prompt: The holiday season is upon us, and for many that came bring out the worst of times and people, along with the best. Share one of your muse's least favorite holiday moments with us.
Fine. Be that way. The Master does not require your dancing or cheering. So. Onto fic!
The Master noted that he currently had quite a stunning view of London at this time of year. However, the mood of the moment was lost quickly as he had to regain his hold on the icy ledge he was currently gripping to keep from falling to a rather premature death. Of course he could regenerate but he quite enjoyed this body and was loathe to part with it so quickly.
"DOCTOR!"
His throat was hoarse but that was only from the cold, never desperation. Minutes passed and the Master was beginning to count all the ways he could torture the Doctor without the use of his screwdriver and without him dying. It was then he realized that he was beginning to lose his grip because his fingers were practically frozen. He heard footsteps from the roof above him and an unmistakable, unruly haired Time Lord poked his head over the side. He regarded the Master with a scrunched up face that obviously signified confusion.
"Master, what are you doing down there?!"
"What does it matter what I'm doing here? I'm hanging on for dear life! Did you think I was merely sightseeing?!" Obviously, his snappishness was due to his predicament, not the Doctor's glaring stupidity.
"Oi! No call for that, just hold on a second."
"Of course, my dear Doctor, I haven't been doing that for quite some time already. What in blazes were you doing anyway?"
"I was chasing the creature, what else?" He wanted very much to readjust his grip but he was concerned that he might never regain it if he were to let go now.
"Wait-" The Master thought he heard the sound of rope being pulled across the ground over the Doctor's voice. "-You were chasing it? No, I was chasing it."
"You're becoming senile look below me and you'll see it lying there."
The Doctor looked over the ledge again, casting a mournful glance at the creature's body on the snow covered ground. "What happened?"
"It fell."
"But it seemed quite agile when we first-"
"After I hit it with a very large piece of pipe."
"Oh, did you have to?"
"DOCTOR, FOCUS!"
"Right, right." He lobbed the rope over the side and the Master grunted when it smacked him in the face. Once he regained feeling in his extremities, the Doctor would be subjected to a very painful death. However, before he could let go to grab onto the rope it jerked, his fellow Time Lord lowering himself.
"Imbecile, what are you doing? The idea is to pull me up!" The Master hissed and was rewarded with a scoff. "Look I tossed down quite a bit. We can lower ourselves and drop the rest of the way." he explained as he slid down next to him. "Now, grab on."
"No."
"Master."
"I said no. Using my name gets you nothing. I am not a damsel in distress, I will not-" His tirade was silenced by a growl from the roof and both Time Lords cast wary glances upwards. "You said you were chasing one as well?" he asked, voice taking a softer note.
"Yeah. I'm inclined to think you might have killed its mate."
"The wonders never cease."
"Keep quiet and don't move."
"Right, because I can hold on forever."
"Shh!" he hissed as it moved away from the ledge and the Master ignored his internal voice of protest and managed to swing over enough to latch onto the Doctor's back. He grunted at the extra weight but started lowering them both. Then the rope surged.
The Master glared at the Doctor. "Perhaps I'll get lucky and you'll regenerate into someone I'll like."
The Doctor's retort was cut off by the rope snapping from the ledge above them and the two of them landing in a heap in a snow bank.
Muse: The Master
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 662
Prompt: The holiday season is upon us, and for many that came bring out the worst of times and people, along with the best. Share one of your muse's least favorite holiday moments with us.