The Master (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
best_served_hot) wrote2010-05-31 07:14 pm
best_served_hot) wrote2010-05-31 07:14 pm
fic: pillow forts
The Master had mostly been keeping to himself. Having been popping on and off of the Astral Plane multiple times, bringing various items with him with each return trip, he'd been far too busy to go out of his way to terrorize anyone needlessly. That isn't to say he didn't have something of an audience and an irritated one at that.
On his first trip, he'd brought back the remnants of an old box spring mattress. Subsequent trips had produced pillows in various states, shapes, fabrics and sizes. All of these he saw fit to pile around the mattress as he found suitable places for all. Much rearranging went into this as he didn't seem pleased at all with his starting work before he finally stopped, seemingly satisfied. Then it was off to the kitchen and that is where the Hand came into our story.
Isn't that fantastic?
Isn't it? Yes, I thought so, now where was I? Oh yes.
Marching over, with an air of holier-than-thou and just as the Master had settled quite comfortably in his den, the Hand stopped with a distasteful look cast to the trail of crumbs on the floor. Without warning or any pretense of the manners that the Master had quite often found himself chastised for lacking, pulled off the long pillow over the top and threw it a few feet away. Blinking owlishly from where he was curled up on the mattress, wrappers and crumbs to incriminate him all around, not that he cared really, he watched the departing pillow with something akin to despair.
"You've been hanging around me far too often, must be that human bit mucking things up. So impressionable and the lack of manners is astounding," he sneered, not deeming the Hand important enough to sit up from his warm spot.
The Hand then obviously deemed it necessary to begin grabbing the emptied crisp and snack bags around him, looking for something that when found, he shook in the Master's face. "This was mine! I had put it away with my name on it for later!" he snapped. The Master almost found the way he was getting redder adorable and smiled as he continued.
"Don't you give me that look! Have you forgotten how to read on top of everything else?" The hand shaking the crisp bag in his face was annoying and it would be so very easy to reach out and break his wrist. Maybe he'd do that later.
Still smiling like the cat that got the cream, he regarded the human Doctor. "I haven't forgotten and it was written quite plainly."
"Then why take it, hm?"
"It was yours," he responded quite childishly. The Master's bubble was very quickly burst as the other man fumed silently then smiled very oddly.
And dumped the remainder of the crumbs on top of the Master's head.
It took a moment for him to process just what happened but the rather smug look on the Hand's face sped things up considerably. Snarling rather like an animal the Master brushed frantically at his hair and sleeves, scattering the crumbs on the floor but at least off of himself. He glared up at him, eyes flashing dangerously.
"Did you enjoy that?"
"A bit, yes."
"Good," sneered the Master, hand crackling with energy that suddenly shot out from his palm, throwing the Hand back violently. It seemed his previous toss of the pillow was quite fortunate because he landed on it instead of the ground and slid a few feet, coughing.
Staring with wide eyes clouded with pain he tried to push himself up. "Wha-What?!"
"The kitchen restocks itself. If you're going to find something to martyr yourself over, I suggest you put a bit more thought into it next time." And the Master laid back down, snatching another pillow to cover the hole from the one the Hand had tossed away. Obviously his stirring speech had little effect on the Hand, who then pushed himself up, armed with the pillow and stormed over to bowl over the entire right side of the Master's den.
Agitation caused both hands to spark without his realizing but it was short lived as the Hand promptly reared back and swung his weapon of choice, the pillow, and bowled the ill prepared Master over onto his back. Momentarily stunned, the Hand set about decimating the rest of his fort and bouncing on his mattress. The Master didn't bother using his energy reserves and got up into a half crouch only to spring and tackle the Hand off of it. Landing in a pile of flailing limbs, the Master ducked out of the way of the weaponized ball of down and fluff and grabbed for another nearby one that had come from the ruins of his den.
He then proceeded to mercilessly pummel the Hand until he was squawking and trying to squirm out of his grasp.
Hours later, their impromptu contest of wills had drawn into a stalemate. They now occupied their own forts on either side of what they had agreed was the main thoroughfare on the Plane. The afternoon was spent staging attacks on other residents, few of which decided to humor them and actually do more than scamper away.
A chance for an actual battle came, when in the process of lobbing pillows between them out of boredom, the sound of a sonic screwdriver whirred and the Master's pillow was reduced to a ball of down and fluff raining down on his head. Sputtering and swatting angrily at the resulting cloud, both himself and his momentarily ally looked to find the proper Doctor standing some distance away, looking for all the universe like a put out mother whose children had made a mess of the house while she was out.
"Really, can the two of you act any more childish? The attacks are getting a bit annoying," he started, looking pointedly at them both.
"It isn't our fault they're all extremely lacking in a sense of humor."
The Hand nodded in agreement to the Master's statement and spoke up himself. "And it isn't like we would have stopped them fighting back," he grinned.
"Oh, don't start. Now really, put this all away and pretend you aren't five years old, both of you."
Neither of them moved to obey and instead shared a look between them. The Hand grinned, twirling a pillow by its corner in one hand before lobbing it at the Doctor. Before he could hope to duck out of the way, the Master broke cover for a moment, energy shooting out of his palm and making the pillow explode in a rather dramatic shower of singed feathers on the Time Lord's head. He sputtered and coughed, flailing to try and remove the feathers from his hair and clothes before giving up. He glared and pulled out his sonic again.
Before the Master could duck behind the shelter of his fort walls, the sonic was aimed and they began exploding around him. He dove away, head covered and glaring. The Hand broke his own cover, shielded by one pillow and ran to him, pulling him up. "Come on!" But he was laughing, he couldn't help it. This was absolutely ridiculous.
They both reached the safety of the Hand's shelter as the Master's was reduced to a mountain of fluff and down. The Doctor stopped his attack and put away his screwdriver.
The human Doctor could barely breathe from the fit of laughter he'd worked himself into and the Master stayed tucked beside him, grinning like a wild thing as he procured a pillow of his own for defense.
"This means war, Doctor!"
The Doctor could have shouted in frustration. "No, no this means you put this ridiculous idea out of your minds and act like adults. I mean, really." The human Doctor gave a grin and a wink at the Master before disappearing from the plane, his weapon still in hand. Confusion furrowed his brow and he hazarded peeking up over the edge of the wall, to see him creeping up behind the proper Doctor.
Drawing his attention, the Master chose to continue talking. "You were never really very good at concocting plans when it came to war games. Always running in haphazardly at the last minute to save the day," the Hand crept closer as the Master continued.
"And you, Master, never really got over hearing the sound of your own voice. The monologues are getting to be a bit dry after all this time," he scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "Does any of it have a point?"
The Master grinned and chose that moment to vault over the fort wall and come closer, pillow in hand. "Oh yes actually and I'm very pleased that your Hand has the decency to act instead of talking for ages. The point, Doctor-"
The Hand swung then, knocking the Doctor in the side of the head and off his feet with an audible grunt of surprise as he caught himself on all fours. Grinning, the human Doctor bounced on his toes and the Master smirked down at the Doctor on the floor as he continued.
"Is that you should always pay very close attention to your surroundings."
And then they proceeded to pummel the Doctor with pillows until they were satisfied they had avenged the loss of the Master's ruined fort.
A/N: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
handysparehand, it is very, very late but I did it. Also, handysparehand and salvagestime were used with permission and no Time Lords were harmed in the writing of this fic, though a few dozen pillows were massacred.
prompt: Yet another brought on by cracky conversation.
words: 1618
On his first trip, he'd brought back the remnants of an old box spring mattress. Subsequent trips had produced pillows in various states, shapes, fabrics and sizes. All of these he saw fit to pile around the mattress as he found suitable places for all. Much rearranging went into this as he didn't seem pleased at all with his starting work before he finally stopped, seemingly satisfied. Then it was off to the kitchen and that is where the Hand came into our story.
Isn't that fantastic?
Isn't it? Yes, I thought so, now where was I? Oh yes.
Marching over, with an air of holier-than-thou and just as the Master had settled quite comfortably in his den, the Hand stopped with a distasteful look cast to the trail of crumbs on the floor. Without warning or any pretense of the manners that the Master had quite often found himself chastised for lacking, pulled off the long pillow over the top and threw it a few feet away. Blinking owlishly from where he was curled up on the mattress, wrappers and crumbs to incriminate him all around, not that he cared really, he watched the departing pillow with something akin to despair.
"You've been hanging around me far too often, must be that human bit mucking things up. So impressionable and the lack of manners is astounding," he sneered, not deeming the Hand important enough to sit up from his warm spot.
The Hand then obviously deemed it necessary to begin grabbing the emptied crisp and snack bags around him, looking for something that when found, he shook in the Master's face. "This was mine! I had put it away with my name on it for later!" he snapped. The Master almost found the way he was getting redder adorable and smiled as he continued.
"Don't you give me that look! Have you forgotten how to read on top of everything else?" The hand shaking the crisp bag in his face was annoying and it would be so very easy to reach out and break his wrist. Maybe he'd do that later.
Still smiling like the cat that got the cream, he regarded the human Doctor. "I haven't forgotten and it was written quite plainly."
"Then why take it, hm?"
"It was yours," he responded quite childishly. The Master's bubble was very quickly burst as the other man fumed silently then smiled very oddly.
And dumped the remainder of the crumbs on top of the Master's head.
It took a moment for him to process just what happened but the rather smug look on the Hand's face sped things up considerably. Snarling rather like an animal the Master brushed frantically at his hair and sleeves, scattering the crumbs on the floor but at least off of himself. He glared up at him, eyes flashing dangerously.
"Did you enjoy that?"
"A bit, yes."
"Good," sneered the Master, hand crackling with energy that suddenly shot out from his palm, throwing the Hand back violently. It seemed his previous toss of the pillow was quite fortunate because he landed on it instead of the ground and slid a few feet, coughing.
Staring with wide eyes clouded with pain he tried to push himself up. "Wha-What?!"
"The kitchen restocks itself. If you're going to find something to martyr yourself over, I suggest you put a bit more thought into it next time." And the Master laid back down, snatching another pillow to cover the hole from the one the Hand had tossed away. Obviously his stirring speech had little effect on the Hand, who then pushed himself up, armed with the pillow and stormed over to bowl over the entire right side of the Master's den.
Agitation caused both hands to spark without his realizing but it was short lived as the Hand promptly reared back and swung his weapon of choice, the pillow, and bowled the ill prepared Master over onto his back. Momentarily stunned, the Hand set about decimating the rest of his fort and bouncing on his mattress. The Master didn't bother using his energy reserves and got up into a half crouch only to spring and tackle the Hand off of it. Landing in a pile of flailing limbs, the Master ducked out of the way of the weaponized ball of down and fluff and grabbed for another nearby one that had come from the ruins of his den.
He then proceeded to mercilessly pummel the Hand until he was squawking and trying to squirm out of his grasp.
Hours later, their impromptu contest of wills had drawn into a stalemate. They now occupied their own forts on either side of what they had agreed was the main thoroughfare on the Plane. The afternoon was spent staging attacks on other residents, few of which decided to humor them and actually do more than scamper away.
A chance for an actual battle came, when in the process of lobbing pillows between them out of boredom, the sound of a sonic screwdriver whirred and the Master's pillow was reduced to a ball of down and fluff raining down on his head. Sputtering and swatting angrily at the resulting cloud, both himself and his momentarily ally looked to find the proper Doctor standing some distance away, looking for all the universe like a put out mother whose children had made a mess of the house while she was out.
"Really, can the two of you act any more childish? The attacks are getting a bit annoying," he started, looking pointedly at them both.
"It isn't our fault they're all extremely lacking in a sense of humor."
The Hand nodded in agreement to the Master's statement and spoke up himself. "And it isn't like we would have stopped them fighting back," he grinned.
"Oh, don't start. Now really, put this all away and pretend you aren't five years old, both of you."
Neither of them moved to obey and instead shared a look between them. The Hand grinned, twirling a pillow by its corner in one hand before lobbing it at the Doctor. Before he could hope to duck out of the way, the Master broke cover for a moment, energy shooting out of his palm and making the pillow explode in a rather dramatic shower of singed feathers on the Time Lord's head. He sputtered and coughed, flailing to try and remove the feathers from his hair and clothes before giving up. He glared and pulled out his sonic again.
Before the Master could duck behind the shelter of his fort walls, the sonic was aimed and they began exploding around him. He dove away, head covered and glaring. The Hand broke his own cover, shielded by one pillow and ran to him, pulling him up. "Come on!" But he was laughing, he couldn't help it. This was absolutely ridiculous.
They both reached the safety of the Hand's shelter as the Master's was reduced to a mountain of fluff and down. The Doctor stopped his attack and put away his screwdriver.
The human Doctor could barely breathe from the fit of laughter he'd worked himself into and the Master stayed tucked beside him, grinning like a wild thing as he procured a pillow of his own for defense.
"This means war, Doctor!"
The Doctor could have shouted in frustration. "No, no this means you put this ridiculous idea out of your minds and act like adults. I mean, really." The human Doctor gave a grin and a wink at the Master before disappearing from the plane, his weapon still in hand. Confusion furrowed his brow and he hazarded peeking up over the edge of the wall, to see him creeping up behind the proper Doctor.
Drawing his attention, the Master chose to continue talking. "You were never really very good at concocting plans when it came to war games. Always running in haphazardly at the last minute to save the day," the Hand crept closer as the Master continued.
"And you, Master, never really got over hearing the sound of your own voice. The monologues are getting to be a bit dry after all this time," he scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "Does any of it have a point?"
The Master grinned and chose that moment to vault over the fort wall and come closer, pillow in hand. "Oh yes actually and I'm very pleased that your Hand has the decency to act instead of talking for ages. The point, Doctor-"
The Hand swung then, knocking the Doctor in the side of the head and off his feet with an audible grunt of surprise as he caught himself on all fours. Grinning, the human Doctor bounced on his toes and the Master smirked down at the Doctor on the floor as he continued.
"Is that you should always pay very close attention to your surroundings."
And then they proceeded to pummel the Doctor with pillows until they were satisfied they had avenged the loss of the Master's ruined fort.
A/N: For
handysparehand, it is very, very late but I did it. Also, handysparehand and salvagestime were used with permission and no Time Lords were harmed in the writing of this fic, though a few dozen pillows were massacred. prompt: Yet another brought on by cracky conversation.
words: 1618