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morgynleriTitle: Time, Chaos, and the Universal Constant
Status: WIP
Genre: Drama
Chapter Rating: PG13
Warnings: brief char. death
Previous Chapter: At the End of the Univese - Welcome to Torchwood, Doctor
Torchwood Tower, 1973 - London to Cardiff with Mickey - This is what century?
"This is Torchwood's welcome committee?" The Master barely refrained from sneering as he looked around at the small team gathered to greet him. He'd expected something larger, especially with the public nature of it twenty years ago. Well, and who he was demanded something more than a paltry handful of... pathetically young men and women.
"Apparently." Jack shrugged, his hands in his pockets as he waited, watching the Master to see what he would do. Since their arrival in the twentieth century, he'd proved to be a good lieutenant, surprisingly loyal when he had the opportunity to turn against him. Maybe being kind to him had been worth the grating on his nerves.
"This won't do, not at all." The Master shook his head, a disappointed little smile on his face. "I can't be associated with a rag-tag little band of misfits. People might start mistaking me for the Doctor."
"And we can't have that, can we?" The youngest of the group quirked up one corner of her mouth in a sardonic grin. "You might actually make it into Torchwood's list of enemies if that happened."
The Master gave her a sharp look. "You are?"
"Emma Hartman. I run the computer system, and create the fake IDs when we need them. And I get paid better than I would... well, otherwise."
The Master made a mental note to keep a close eye on the young Miss Hartman. She might prove to be more useful, and more dangerous, than the rest.
"Do you have any family?" If he had something to hold over her later...
"Only one I keep in contact with is Yvonne. If you call the random bit of post and presents at Christmas contact." Emma shrugged. "Torchwood doesn't exactly attract people with large or functional families. Harder to keep questions from being asked if they disappear while doing some bit of research for the agency."
The Master could practically hear Jack's disapproving frown over his shoulder, and took a half-step back, his heel coming down firmly on Jack's toes. He smiled cheerily at the resultant indignant yelp, ignoring the confused looks from the welcoming committee in favor of demanding the tour of the facilities the director had promised when he spoke with him.
~ ~~ ~
"He's a good employer, Doctor. And he's helping us, all of us. Like you do, only he sticks around." Mickey kept his eyes on the road as he drove the SUV towards Cardiff. The Torchwood logo was emblazoned across the sides and back, an other vehicles on the road gave it room to pass, with the same sort of alacrity he'd expect reserved for emergency vehicles. It was something he still wasn't entirely accustomed to, but he supposed the Torchwood SUVs were a sort of emergency vehicle.
"He's got you all convinced he's a good guy, but he's just biding his time. The Master doesn't help people without expecting more than he gave in return."
"Maybe." Mickey shrugged, glancing over at the Doctor briefly. "At least he didn't run away."
"I didn't run away. I just had a few loose ends I had to tie up." The Doctor crossed his arms mutinously, glaring out the passenger's window at the passing countryside.
Mickey scowled, unseen, and abruptly pulled off on the side of the road. "You can't keep doing this, Doctor. How long are you going to avoid tellin' Jackie what 'appened?" The accent he'd been shedding over the last decade made a return with his temper.
"As long as I have to. She doesn't need to know. Rose is dead, and there's nothing I can do to change it." The Doctor kept his head turned away from Mickey, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much the memories the argument brought up hurt.
"It'd have been nice for her t'know Rose died doing somethin' important, an' not just in an adventure gone wrong." Mickey sighed, leaning back against the seat, his jaw clenching for a brief second.
"Jack told me a couple months after the funeral. Said he wanted to give me a bit of time to get past the raw edge of grief, the anger." He shot another glare at the Doctor. "Dangerous, anyway, for stuff like that to have slipped out to just anyone, then. Still would have been nice to hear from you."
"And what about Jackie? He didn't tell her."
Mickey snorted. "Of course not. Show up on 'er doorstep, an' introduce 'imself, an' tell Jackie all about it? She didn't know him, and it wouldn't have gone over well. Still doesn't really know him, not more than anyone who's got a passing familiarity wit' Torchwood personnel."
"Oh." The Doctor fell silent again as they pulled back onto the road, once more on their way to Cardiff, and Jack's branch of Torchwood.
~ ~~ ~
"I thought you set the coordinates for the twenty-first century." Jack leaned against the brick of the garden wall that made up one side of the alley, nodding his head towards the horse and hackney hitched to a gas lamp at the end of it. "Those both are well out of fashion and general use by the middle of the twentieth."
"Thank you, Captain Harkness, for stating the obvious." The Master glared at Jack a long moment, contemplating the merits of stabbing him versus shooting him. Just to keep him quiet for a few moments while he figured out what piece of malfunctioning future technology had ruined his plans. It would have been such a delicious irony to have both the companions that the Doctor had most recently abandoned.
Jack chuckled, shrugging. "The Doctor would've.."
The Master made use of the blaster he'd brought with him, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face at the lack of chatter that killing Jack brought. He already knew the Doctor had a habit of showing up at inconvenient times and places, but he doubted the Doctor would do so this time. No, this time, things would proceed according to his plans. When he figured out what those plans were, now that the original concept would have to be scrapped.
He tapped his fingers against his thigh in conscious imitation of the drums in his head, focusing on the possibilities that being in the nineteenth century instead of the planned twenty-first could afford him. The smirk on his face grew wider as he imagined the power base he could build by the time the Doctor returned. Rule over these humans his rival held so dear, and build himself an empire on their shoulders, their bones.
Status: WIP
Genre: Drama
Chapter Rating: PG13
Warnings: brief char. death
Previous Chapter: At the End of the Univese - Welcome to Torchwood, Doctor
"This is Torchwood's welcome committee?" The Master barely refrained from sneering as he looked around at the small team gathered to greet him. He'd expected something larger, especially with the public nature of it twenty years ago. Well, and who he was demanded something more than a paltry handful of... pathetically young men and women.
"Apparently." Jack shrugged, his hands in his pockets as he waited, watching the Master to see what he would do. Since their arrival in the twentieth century, he'd proved to be a good lieutenant, surprisingly loyal when he had the opportunity to turn against him. Maybe being kind to him had been worth the grating on his nerves.
"This won't do, not at all." The Master shook his head, a disappointed little smile on his face. "I can't be associated with a rag-tag little band of misfits. People might start mistaking me for the Doctor."
"And we can't have that, can we?" The youngest of the group quirked up one corner of her mouth in a sardonic grin. "You might actually make it into Torchwood's list of enemies if that happened."
The Master gave her a sharp look. "You are?"
"Emma Hartman. I run the computer system, and create the fake IDs when we need them. And I get paid better than I would... well, otherwise."
The Master made a mental note to keep a close eye on the young Miss Hartman. She might prove to be more useful, and more dangerous, than the rest.
"Do you have any family?" If he had something to hold over her later...
"Only one I keep in contact with is Yvonne. If you call the random bit of post and presents at Christmas contact." Emma shrugged. "Torchwood doesn't exactly attract people with large or functional families. Harder to keep questions from being asked if they disappear while doing some bit of research for the agency."
The Master could practically hear Jack's disapproving frown over his shoulder, and took a half-step back, his heel coming down firmly on Jack's toes. He smiled cheerily at the resultant indignant yelp, ignoring the confused looks from the welcoming committee in favor of demanding the tour of the facilities the director had promised when he spoke with him.
"He's a good employer, Doctor. And he's helping us, all of us. Like you do, only he sticks around." Mickey kept his eyes on the road as he drove the SUV towards Cardiff. The Torchwood logo was emblazoned across the sides and back, an other vehicles on the road gave it room to pass, with the same sort of alacrity he'd expect reserved for emergency vehicles. It was something he still wasn't entirely accustomed to, but he supposed the Torchwood SUVs were a sort of emergency vehicle.
"He's got you all convinced he's a good guy, but he's just biding his time. The Master doesn't help people without expecting more than he gave in return."
"Maybe." Mickey shrugged, glancing over at the Doctor briefly. "At least he didn't run away."
"I didn't run away. I just had a few loose ends I had to tie up." The Doctor crossed his arms mutinously, glaring out the passenger's window at the passing countryside.
Mickey scowled, unseen, and abruptly pulled off on the side of the road. "You can't keep doing this, Doctor. How long are you going to avoid tellin' Jackie what 'appened?" The accent he'd been shedding over the last decade made a return with his temper.
"As long as I have to. She doesn't need to know. Rose is dead, and there's nothing I can do to change it." The Doctor kept his head turned away from Mickey, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much the memories the argument brought up hurt.
"It'd have been nice for her t'know Rose died doing somethin' important, an' not just in an adventure gone wrong." Mickey sighed, leaning back against the seat, his jaw clenching for a brief second.
"Jack told me a couple months after the funeral. Said he wanted to give me a bit of time to get past the raw edge of grief, the anger." He shot another glare at the Doctor. "Dangerous, anyway, for stuff like that to have slipped out to just anyone, then. Still would have been nice to hear from you."
"And what about Jackie? He didn't tell her."
Mickey snorted. "Of course not. Show up on 'er doorstep, an' introduce 'imself, an' tell Jackie all about it? She didn't know him, and it wouldn't have gone over well. Still doesn't really know him, not more than anyone who's got a passing familiarity wit' Torchwood personnel."
"Oh." The Doctor fell silent again as they pulled back onto the road, once more on their way to Cardiff, and Jack's branch of Torchwood.
"I thought you set the coordinates for the twenty-first century." Jack leaned against the brick of the garden wall that made up one side of the alley, nodding his head towards the horse and hackney hitched to a gas lamp at the end of it. "Those both are well out of fashion and general use by the middle of the twentieth."
"Thank you, Captain Harkness, for stating the obvious." The Master glared at Jack a long moment, contemplating the merits of stabbing him versus shooting him. Just to keep him quiet for a few moments while he figured out what piece of malfunctioning future technology had ruined his plans. It would have been such a delicious irony to have both the companions that the Doctor had most recently abandoned.
Jack chuckled, shrugging. "The Doctor would've.."
The Master made use of the blaster he'd brought with him, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face at the lack of chatter that killing Jack brought. He already knew the Doctor had a habit of showing up at inconvenient times and places, but he doubted the Doctor would do so this time. No, this time, things would proceed according to his plans. When he figured out what those plans were, now that the original concept would have to be scrapped.
He tapped his fingers against his thigh in conscious imitation of the drums in his head, focusing on the possibilities that being in the nineteenth century instead of the planned twenty-first could afford him. The smirk on his face grew wider as he imagined the power base he could build by the time the Doctor returned. Rule over these humans his rival held so dear, and build himself an empire on their shoulders, their bones.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 07:55 pm (UTC)I love your Master. "I can't be associated with a rag-tag little band of misfits. People might start mistaking me for the Doctor." Oooh. Nasty.
As is Mickey's "At least he didn't run away."
Oh, and killing Jack just to shut him up? Very nasty. (And I love your warning in your heading: 'brief character death' - there's only one person who can do death briefly! *g*)
I don't like all the apostrophes in Mickey's dialogue to indicate his accent. I know you haven't done it very much, but we all know what he sounds like and the apostrophes just slow down the reading.
Also this remark of Jack's reads oddly to me: Those both are well out of fashion and general use by the middle of the twentieth." I don't know if it's an Americanism, but I would certainly say "Those are both" not "Those both are".
You certainly have me intrigued by this fic, though. Looking forward to more! :-)
no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 04:06 am (UTC)Oh, definately. I plan to, or my head's going to explode. This is definately not my usual style of writing, but it's being fun.
I love your Master. "I can't be associated with a rag-tag little band of misfits. People might start mistaking me for the Doctor." Oooh. Nasty.
He is, isn't he? *grins* I'm glad you love him, and he's preening and smirking at the moment, the smug bastard.
I swear my Mickey-muse is taking lessons in nasty from Mr. I'm an Evil Genius (aka The Master, aka Smug Bastard).
I don't like all the apostrophes in Mickey's dialogue to indicate his accent. I know you haven't done it very much, but we all know what he sounds like and the apostrophes just slow down the reading.
Mm. Then I shall go back and edit out the apostrophes.
Also this remark of Jack's reads oddly to me: Those both are well out of fashion and general use by the middle of the twentieth." I don't know if it's an Americanism, but I would certainly say "Those are both" not "Those both are".
It is an Americanism, a colloquialism that I grew up with in summers in the Carolinas, and have heard when heading into Ohio for events. Not as much something from the suburbs as the cities and rural areas. But something I can hear Jack saying, with the accent he has in canon. Not always using, but particularly when he's intent on annoying the Master (consciously or not).
You certainly have me intrigued by this fic, though. Looking forward to more! :-)
*beams* I'm glad for that.
Mmm. Must remember to post the link to where I'm posting it on Teaspoon in the info post for the AU. That link would be the best to use if you care to rec it, or any associated stories. (I'm not planning on pimping it out anywhere until I can have both this version and a chronological version posted on Teaspoon, so you're aware.)
no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 01:57 pm (UTC)Yeah, I agree reccing should wait until you've got it finished - it'll be easier to read then and there's bound to be some changes you want to make, things to tidy up etc.