Quicker than a nun's first curry!
Apr. 26th, 2006 06:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
taleyaDrabble requests!
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uktechgirl:
f you were to happen to feel like drabbling an explanation for the queeny look at the start of King's Demons, since you were the one to bring it to my attention...well, I wouldn't complain.
Turlough frowned at the locator embedded in the TARDIS console, disgust furrowing his brow. "Planet Earth."
"So it seems." The Doctor tried to look innocent as he leaned against the console, one hand slipping inside his pocket in an affectation of nonchalance. It wasn't that he was reneging on his promise to return Turlough home, not at all. Just....delaying it. For a while. Just a little while. He studied the younger man as he stared at the console, taking in the way his fingers worked against each other in a frustrated gesture. He was...intrigued by the redhead. Conflicting emotions and hidden secrets drifting beneath a smooth, ingratiating exterior, light blurring against dark, the need to prove himself twisted around a desire for self-preservation. And beneath it all, something else. Something hidden. Something even he couldn't see, couldn't even begin to grasp the shape of, but something that gave him the overwhelming feeling it would be worth the discovery. If he took the time.
Mariner had been right. Ephemerals could be fascinating.
Even to other Ephemerals.
"You didn't set the co-ordinates for here, by any chance?"
"No." And he slid his eyes away before the younger man could see the truth reflected in them.
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agentcompassion:
Can I get a bit of Tenth Doctor and Ford Prefect in a pub? :D
At first glance they could be mistaken for a demented pair of twins. Same shoes. Same pants. Same scruffed hair and manic grin. On second glance, taking in the multitude of empty pint glasses on the table, that could be expanded to include the same seemingly-unlimited capacity for alcohol.
"- so there I am, pants around my ankles, and the bloody woman turns around with two glasses in her hands. Turns out it's a drink."
"Oh that's marvellous," the Doctor threw his head back and laughed, drawing the attention of nearby patrons. And obviously not caring a whit. "Humans ey? Can't live with 'em, can't understand them in the slightest."
"Tell me about it." Ford muttered into his pint. She'd chased him out of the bar with a broom. "Speaking of which...I don't suppose there's any chance of a lift?" His face was hopeful. Earth was, to be utterly frank, a mudhole. And the beer was piss. But he didn't like to say it in front of the other man, given the Time Lord's fondness for it.
The Doctor shot him a glance, then made a show of checking his watch. "Can't do that." The wide grin left his face, replaced by a sly, knowing smile. "You've still got things to do here. Speaking of which -" And he was on his feet, coat whirling around him as he set off, leaving a depressed Betelgeusian staring into his beer. On the way out, he quite innocently bumped into a tall, dark-haired human, knocking him into Ford's table. His beer toppled sideways, dribbling over the table and soaking his pants.
"Oh I'm terribly sorry, can I buy you a replacement drink?"
Ford dragged his eyes away from the departing Time Lord and up into an incredibly ordinary human face. "Yeah, sure," he said without much enthusiasm. There didn't seem to be much else to do to pass the time while waiting for the next hitch.
The human stuck out a hand in greeting. "Arthur Dent."
madscot:
Snape-goodness :) Unlocked is just fine, thanks.
please don't hit me for this one
It was times like this he remembered why he didn't drink.
Pity it always happened too bloody late to stop him from drinking in the first place. He couldn't quite remember how many he'd had, but by the way his stomach was trying to claw its way back up his throat, he'd hazard it had been quite a few. He shoved at the covers of his bed, trying to avoid looking at the human-shaped lump on the other side of the bed.
Merlin's balls, who had it been this time? Hooch? Lupin? A particularly accommodating house elf? His own left sock? He wasn't exactly choosy when drunk.
Memory slapped him in the back of the head like half a pound of dead fish and his heart froze in his chest.
Oh no.
Please no...
A stirring came from under the covers, and fingers walked wickedly up his back, carefully skirting the scratches and bitemarks covering his shoulders.
Snape closed his eyes and prayed to a muggle god that he'd never believed in that his memory was lying, that it hadn't happened, and his penis wasn't waving a merry good morning to who he thought it was. But there was no denying the truth, nor the flash of pompous, sex-slaughtered hair that met his eyes when he opened them again.
"Oh, bollocks."
"Gooood morning Severus," Gilderoy Lockhart purred.
uktechgirl:f you were to happen to feel like drabbling an explanation for the queeny look at the start of King's Demons, since you were the one to bring it to my attention...well, I wouldn't complain.
Turlough frowned at the locator embedded in the TARDIS console, disgust furrowing his brow. "Planet Earth."
"So it seems." The Doctor tried to look innocent as he leaned against the console, one hand slipping inside his pocket in an affectation of nonchalance. It wasn't that he was reneging on his promise to return Turlough home, not at all. Just....delaying it. For a while. Just a little while. He studied the younger man as he stared at the console, taking in the way his fingers worked against each other in a frustrated gesture. He was...intrigued by the redhead. Conflicting emotions and hidden secrets drifting beneath a smooth, ingratiating exterior, light blurring against dark, the need to prove himself twisted around a desire for self-preservation. And beneath it all, something else. Something hidden. Something even he couldn't see, couldn't even begin to grasp the shape of, but something that gave him the overwhelming feeling it would be worth the discovery. If he took the time.
Mariner had been right. Ephemerals could be fascinating.
Even to other Ephemerals.
"You didn't set the co-ordinates for here, by any chance?"
"No." And he slid his eyes away before the younger man could see the truth reflected in them.
agentcompassion:Can I get a bit of Tenth Doctor and Ford Prefect in a pub? :D
At first glance they could be mistaken for a demented pair of twins. Same shoes. Same pants. Same scruffed hair and manic grin. On second glance, taking in the multitude of empty pint glasses on the table, that could be expanded to include the same seemingly-unlimited capacity for alcohol.
"- so there I am, pants around my ankles, and the bloody woman turns around with two glasses in her hands. Turns out it's a drink."
"Oh that's marvellous," the Doctor threw his head back and laughed, drawing the attention of nearby patrons. And obviously not caring a whit. "Humans ey? Can't live with 'em, can't understand them in the slightest."
"Tell me about it." Ford muttered into his pint. She'd chased him out of the bar with a broom. "Speaking of which...I don't suppose there's any chance of a lift?" His face was hopeful. Earth was, to be utterly frank, a mudhole. And the beer was piss. But he didn't like to say it in front of the other man, given the Time Lord's fondness for it.
The Doctor shot him a glance, then made a show of checking his watch. "Can't do that." The wide grin left his face, replaced by a sly, knowing smile. "You've still got things to do here. Speaking of which -" And he was on his feet, coat whirling around him as he set off, leaving a depressed Betelgeusian staring into his beer. On the way out, he quite innocently bumped into a tall, dark-haired human, knocking him into Ford's table. His beer toppled sideways, dribbling over the table and soaking his pants.
"Oh I'm terribly sorry, can I buy you a replacement drink?"
Ford dragged his eyes away from the departing Time Lord and up into an incredibly ordinary human face. "Yeah, sure," he said without much enthusiasm. There didn't seem to be much else to do to pass the time while waiting for the next hitch.
The human stuck out a hand in greeting. "Arthur Dent."
madscot:Snape-goodness :) Unlocked is just fine, thanks.
please don't hit me for this one
It was times like this he remembered why he didn't drink.
Pity it always happened too bloody late to stop him from drinking in the first place. He couldn't quite remember how many he'd had, but by the way his stomach was trying to claw its way back up his throat, he'd hazard it had been quite a few. He shoved at the covers of his bed, trying to avoid looking at the human-shaped lump on the other side of the bed.
Merlin's balls, who had it been this time? Hooch? Lupin? A particularly accommodating house elf? His own left sock? He wasn't exactly choosy when drunk.
Memory slapped him in the back of the head like half a pound of dead fish and his heart froze in his chest.
Oh no.
Please no...
A stirring came from under the covers, and fingers walked wickedly up his back, carefully skirting the scratches and bitemarks covering his shoulders.
Snape closed his eyes and prayed to a muggle god that he'd never believed in that his memory was lying, that it hadn't happened, and his penis wasn't waving a merry good morning to who he thought it was. But there was no denying the truth, nor the flash of pompous, sex-slaughtered hair that met his eyes when he opened them again.
"Oh, bollocks."
"Gooood morning Severus," Gilderoy Lockhart purred.
