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lizbeeTitle: Also Evil: Planning Meetings
Author: LizBee
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Warning(s): CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THE TWIST AT THE END OF "THE PANDORICA OPENS".
Notes: Many thanks tobiichan for reminding me how Grels talk.
Summary: How did the antagonists in "The Pandorica Opens" come up with their plan? The Terrible Zodin, for one, wishes she'd passed on this invitation.
Also Evil: Planning Meetings
by LizBee
Take one vast space station orbiting a planet in neutral territory. Add a really big meeting room with some of those chairs that look comfortable but are actually designed to keep chiropractors in business. Acquire some cheap instant coffee and slightly stale biscuits. Send out the invitations. Wait for representatives of a multitude of alien races to turn up, set their differences aside and create a scheme for universal peace and harmony.
It would be heart-warming, if it wasn't so evil.
"Sometimes," said the Terrible Zodin as she took a seat beside a dapper man with a greying beard, "I think I should have taken my mother's advice and become a florist."
"There are moments," the Master confessed, "where I think that perhaps I was too hasty in rejecting the life of a humble agent of the Celestial Intervention Agency."
"You never know when you're young, do you?" Zodin said. "You make all these choices, not really knowing how they'll turn out..."
"I beg your pardon," said the Master, "but I consulted with several of my future selves before I made my decision."
"How'd that work out?"
"Perhaps I should have taken the American accent and glowing skull as warnings."
Further down the table, an argument was brewing.
"You are in violation of Section 1624AAZΦ, Subsection (42) of the Traversing Realities Act," the Judoon officer was saying to the Cyberman representative.
"Laws are irrelevant," said the Cyberambassador. "You will become like us."
"That," snarled the Slitheen beside him, "is exactly what I was afraid of. Don't try to upgrade me, sonny, or I'll drown you in gold and sell you for scrap metal."
"We are superior Cybermen. We are immune to gold. The Cyberbeings of this universe have been upgraded."
"Oh good," said the Slitheen. "That's just what I wanted to hear."
"Your mechanised armaments will be no match for the forces of Sontar," said General Skolt, struggling to rise from his chair. "Sontar HA!"
"Oh boy," said Zodin. "Wake me up when the drinking begins."
"You! Are! Inferior! Beings!" said the red Dalek. "You! Will! Submit! To! Dalek! Authority!"
"Don't be absurd," snapped the Master, rising to his feet. "Superior beings? You look like Power Rangers."
An awkward silence fell. Something cleared its throat. Zodin found herself casually identifying all the exits and positions of safety.
The Master was saved from extermination by the appearance of their hosts. Two men – well, they were shaped like men, and white able-bodied cisgendered men, at that, which, Zodin felt, was a perfect reflection of the kyriarchal tendencies that dominated the forces of evil in the universe – took their places, one at each end of the table.
"Gentlebeings," said the one that looked like Colonel Sanders, "if we could come to order?"
Zodin snuck a quick look at the one with a bird on his head, but he made no noise of protest.
It occurred to her that chances of anyone – anyone mortal, by a definition that extended to Cybermen and Time Lords – leaving this room alive had vastly diminished.
"We are here," said the Black Guardian, "to determine a course of action that will remove a certain thorn from our sides forever."
"Why don't you hit him on the head with a rock?" shouted one of the braver Zygons.
The Master, who had seemed almost awestruck in the presence of the Guardians, began to look a little happier.
"We are here," said the Black Guardian, pointedly ignoring the heckler, "because the Doctor is a profound threat to the existence of the universe itself, and you – all of you," he cast a beady eye over the representatives. His headbird did likewise. "You are the beings best able to defeat him and preserve reality."
"Goddess help us," Zodin muttered.
One of the Slitheen raised his hand.
"Why not do it yourself?" he asked. "You're the great and all-powerful Guardians, right?"
The Trickster turned its head. "Guardians act through others," it hissed.
"Once," said the White Guardian, "we possessed technology that could bring the universe to a stop. The Key to Time might have saved us, but the Doctor has concealed the pieces. We only know of one, and she is … argumentative."
He waved a hand, and a hologram appeared over the table, a vision of a blonde woman, very pretty in a sort of in-bred way. Beneath her portrait appeared the space-time co-ordinates of her planet.
"You may, of course, formulate your own plans," the White Guardian continued. "But we require that some dedicate yourselves to seeking out Astra and the rest of the Key."
"She! Will! Be! Exterminated!" said the blue Dalek, evidently overcome by the spirit of co-operation and universe-saving positivity.
The White Guardian took a deep swallow from his mint julep and explained it all again.
When that was done, the Master got to his feet.
"We cannot depend on the Key to Time being found and assembled in time," he said. "We require an alternate plan. A trap that uses the Doctor's finest strengths and weaknesses against him. His curiousity. His tedious need to save people. His love for Earth."
"I beg your pardon," said a Silurian, "but we do not consent to our world being used as bait in your trap."
"Why are you even here?" asked a Chelonian.
"Because," said the Silurian, "we want to undo the damage the Doctor has done in forcing us to share our world with apes. My followers are few, but dedicated. With the Doctor neutralised, we shall reclaim Earth for reptilian kind," and there followed several minutes of lizardish speechifying.
When she had subsided, the Master said, "I would be honoured to assist you in your cause, on the condition that we can base our trap on Earth."
There was a lull, as both parties made promises that neither intended to keep, then a diversion, as the Slitheen offered to sell off the remnants of human civilisation; then the Master returned to the matter at hand.
"I have given a great deal of thought," he said, "to the best means of restraining and confining the Doctor. An intricate network of locks and forcefields, each more fiendishly complex than the last. Deadlocked cuffs, perhaps – I'm sorry," he added to Zodin, "did I say something funny?"
"No, no," she said, trying to sober up, "I was just thinking of a joke I heard once. That had nothing to do with gay Time Lord bondage."
"Fact," said a Grel, "Time Lords are the most ridiculously oversexed race in existence. Additional fact: no one cares that your high school boyfriend broke up with you."
The Master withdrew his matter compressor and took aim at the upstart Grel. Zodin took one look at it and started laughing in earnest.
"Stop laughing," the Master ordered. "You will obey me!"
"I bet you say that to all the bipeds," said Zodin, but she did have the presence of mind to draw her sword and activate the personal shield it generated.
"You are weakened by your emotions," said the Cyberman. "You will be upgraded."
"That's what I said last night, when I upgraded your mum," said the Slitheen, elbowing his brother.
"Cho mo ro ko ho," the Judoon bellowed.
"What did you just call me?" demanded the Silurian.
"Daleks! Require! No! Allies! You! Will! Be! Exterminated!"
"Fact: this was the worst idea in the history of sentient life."
"And that," said Zodin, swiping a couple of stale biscuits for the road, "is my queue to make a graceful departure. Have fun saving the universe, guys!"
The amazing bit, she reflected as she hitched her little ship to a Dalek time corridor, was that everyone else had been so distracted that she'd escaped with her life.
*
"And I think, you know, you're still young, you can change careers. But if I wasn't the Terrible Zodin, what would I be? The Mostly Personable Zodin? The Quite Reasonable Except She Hates Telemarketers Zodin?"
"You don't seem all that terrible to me," said the terribly handsome, terribly young Time Agent to whom she was unburdening herself. "Have another drink."
"What happened to your hand?" she asked, gesturing at the half-grown limb.
"Lost it. And my vortex manipulator, which they're going to take out of my salary. As soon as I'm back on active duty, that is – first I have to finish growing this thing."
"Pity," said Zodin. She was beginning to have an idea. "A young, energetic guy like you must hate being confined."
"Totally," he said.
"And the Master's plan will never work, so it all comes down to the Key to Time." She downed her drink. "What the hell. Maybe I'll play the hero this time. Jack," she said, giving him a smile, "how'd you like to help rescue a princess?"
And they would have lived happily ever after, saving the universe from everyone else's attempts to save the universe, and having lots of kinky three-way sex with Princess Astra, only it turned out that the Master's plan did work, but the universe was destroyed anyway. Which was a bit of a bummer, but what could a girl do, except thank the Goddess she hadn't wasted her time being a florist.
end
Author: LizBee
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Warning(s): CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THE TWIST AT THE END OF "THE PANDORICA OPENS".
Notes: Many thanks to
biichan for reminding me how Grels talk.Summary: How did the antagonists in "The Pandorica Opens" come up with their plan? The Terrible Zodin, for one, wishes she'd passed on this invitation.
Also Evil: Planning Meetings
by LizBee
Take one vast space station orbiting a planet in neutral territory. Add a really big meeting room with some of those chairs that look comfortable but are actually designed to keep chiropractors in business. Acquire some cheap instant coffee and slightly stale biscuits. Send out the invitations. Wait for representatives of a multitude of alien races to turn up, set their differences aside and create a scheme for universal peace and harmony.
It would be heart-warming, if it wasn't so evil.
"Sometimes," said the Terrible Zodin as she took a seat beside a dapper man with a greying beard, "I think I should have taken my mother's advice and become a florist."
"There are moments," the Master confessed, "where I think that perhaps I was too hasty in rejecting the life of a humble agent of the Celestial Intervention Agency."
"You never know when you're young, do you?" Zodin said. "You make all these choices, not really knowing how they'll turn out..."
"I beg your pardon," said the Master, "but I consulted with several of my future selves before I made my decision."
"How'd that work out?"
"Perhaps I should have taken the American accent and glowing skull as warnings."
Further down the table, an argument was brewing.
"You are in violation of Section 1624AAZΦ, Subsection (42) of the Traversing Realities Act," the Judoon officer was saying to the Cyberman representative.
"Laws are irrelevant," said the Cyberambassador. "You will become like us."
"That," snarled the Slitheen beside him, "is exactly what I was afraid of. Don't try to upgrade me, sonny, or I'll drown you in gold and sell you for scrap metal."
"We are superior Cybermen. We are immune to gold. The Cyberbeings of this universe have been upgraded."
"Oh good," said the Slitheen. "That's just what I wanted to hear."
"Your mechanised armaments will be no match for the forces of Sontar," said General Skolt, struggling to rise from his chair. "Sontar HA!"
"Oh boy," said Zodin. "Wake me up when the drinking begins."
"You! Are! Inferior! Beings!" said the red Dalek. "You! Will! Submit! To! Dalek! Authority!"
"Don't be absurd," snapped the Master, rising to his feet. "Superior beings? You look like Power Rangers."
An awkward silence fell. Something cleared its throat. Zodin found herself casually identifying all the exits and positions of safety.
The Master was saved from extermination by the appearance of their hosts. Two men – well, they were shaped like men, and white able-bodied cisgendered men, at that, which, Zodin felt, was a perfect reflection of the kyriarchal tendencies that dominated the forces of evil in the universe – took their places, one at each end of the table.
"Gentlebeings," said the one that looked like Colonel Sanders, "if we could come to order?"
Zodin snuck a quick look at the one with a bird on his head, but he made no noise of protest.
It occurred to her that chances of anyone – anyone mortal, by a definition that extended to Cybermen and Time Lords – leaving this room alive had vastly diminished.
"We are here," said the Black Guardian, "to determine a course of action that will remove a certain thorn from our sides forever."
"Why don't you hit him on the head with a rock?" shouted one of the braver Zygons.
The Master, who had seemed almost awestruck in the presence of the Guardians, began to look a little happier.
"We are here," said the Black Guardian, pointedly ignoring the heckler, "because the Doctor is a profound threat to the existence of the universe itself, and you – all of you," he cast a beady eye over the representatives. His headbird did likewise. "You are the beings best able to defeat him and preserve reality."
"Goddess help us," Zodin muttered.
One of the Slitheen raised his hand.
"Why not do it yourself?" he asked. "You're the great and all-powerful Guardians, right?"
The Trickster turned its head. "Guardians act through others," it hissed.
"Once," said the White Guardian, "we possessed technology that could bring the universe to a stop. The Key to Time might have saved us, but the Doctor has concealed the pieces. We only know of one, and she is … argumentative."
He waved a hand, and a hologram appeared over the table, a vision of a blonde woman, very pretty in a sort of in-bred way. Beneath her portrait appeared the space-time co-ordinates of her planet.
"You may, of course, formulate your own plans," the White Guardian continued. "But we require that some dedicate yourselves to seeking out Astra and the rest of the Key."
"She! Will! Be! Exterminated!" said the blue Dalek, evidently overcome by the spirit of co-operation and universe-saving positivity.
The White Guardian took a deep swallow from his mint julep and explained it all again.
When that was done, the Master got to his feet.
"We cannot depend on the Key to Time being found and assembled in time," he said. "We require an alternate plan. A trap that uses the Doctor's finest strengths and weaknesses against him. His curiousity. His tedious need to save people. His love for Earth."
"I beg your pardon," said a Silurian, "but we do not consent to our world being used as bait in your trap."
"Why are you even here?" asked a Chelonian.
"Because," said the Silurian, "we want to undo the damage the Doctor has done in forcing us to share our world with apes. My followers are few, but dedicated. With the Doctor neutralised, we shall reclaim Earth for reptilian kind," and there followed several minutes of lizardish speechifying.
When she had subsided, the Master said, "I would be honoured to assist you in your cause, on the condition that we can base our trap on Earth."
There was a lull, as both parties made promises that neither intended to keep, then a diversion, as the Slitheen offered to sell off the remnants of human civilisation; then the Master returned to the matter at hand.
"I have given a great deal of thought," he said, "to the best means of restraining and confining the Doctor. An intricate network of locks and forcefields, each more fiendishly complex than the last. Deadlocked cuffs, perhaps – I'm sorry," he added to Zodin, "did I say something funny?"
"No, no," she said, trying to sober up, "I was just thinking of a joke I heard once. That had nothing to do with gay Time Lord bondage."
"Fact," said a Grel, "Time Lords are the most ridiculously oversexed race in existence. Additional fact: no one cares that your high school boyfriend broke up with you."
The Master withdrew his matter compressor and took aim at the upstart Grel. Zodin took one look at it and started laughing in earnest.
"Stop laughing," the Master ordered. "You will obey me!"
"I bet you say that to all the bipeds," said Zodin, but she did have the presence of mind to draw her sword and activate the personal shield it generated.
"You are weakened by your emotions," said the Cyberman. "You will be upgraded."
"That's what I said last night, when I upgraded your mum," said the Slitheen, elbowing his brother.
"Cho mo ro ko ho," the Judoon bellowed.
"What did you just call me?" demanded the Silurian.
"Daleks! Require! No! Allies! You! Will! Be! Exterminated!"
"Fact: this was the worst idea in the history of sentient life."
"And that," said Zodin, swiping a couple of stale biscuits for the road, "is my queue to make a graceful departure. Have fun saving the universe, guys!"
The amazing bit, she reflected as she hitched her little ship to a Dalek time corridor, was that everyone else had been so distracted that she'd escaped with her life.
*
"And I think, you know, you're still young, you can change careers. But if I wasn't the Terrible Zodin, what would I be? The Mostly Personable Zodin? The Quite Reasonable Except She Hates Telemarketers Zodin?"
"You don't seem all that terrible to me," said the terribly handsome, terribly young Time Agent to whom she was unburdening herself. "Have another drink."
"What happened to your hand?" she asked, gesturing at the half-grown limb.
"Lost it. And my vortex manipulator, which they're going to take out of my salary. As soon as I'm back on active duty, that is – first I have to finish growing this thing."
"Pity," said Zodin. She was beginning to have an idea. "A young, energetic guy like you must hate being confined."
"Totally," he said.
"And the Master's plan will never work, so it all comes down to the Key to Time." She downed her drink. "What the hell. Maybe I'll play the hero this time. Jack," she said, giving him a smile, "how'd you like to help rescue a princess?"
And they would have lived happily ever after, saving the universe from everyone else's attempts to save the universe, and having lots of kinky three-way sex with Princess Astra, only it turned out that the Master's plan did work, but the universe was destroyed anyway. Which was a bit of a bummer, but what could a girl do, except thank the Goddess she hadn't wasted her time being a florist.
end
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 10:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 10:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 10:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 12:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 12:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 12:49 pm (UTC)*googles "Zodin"*
TOTALLY AWESOME.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 01:35 pm (UTC)WINS THE (silent)UNIVERSE!
:D
Jaydeyn
no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 01:53 pm (UTC)I'll let you know if I ever stop laughing.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 02:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 02:44 pm (UTC)"That's what I said last night, when I upgraded your mum," said the Slitheen, elbowing his brother.
*dies*
One thing you gotta say for Rusty, he does make some very memorable monsters :D
no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 04:38 pm (UTC)"You are weakened by your emotions," said the Cyberman. "You will be upgraded."
"That's what I said last night, when I upgraded your mum," said the Slitheen, elbowing his brother.
I was already laughing before this but this is where I lost it and had to take a minute before I could continue reading. I'm gonna stop wondering how everyone got together long enough to pull off the Pandorica trap and just accept this as canon.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 04:43 pm (UTC)THIS IS CANON.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 07:49 pm (UTC)This is fabulous.
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Date: 2010-06-20 07:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 10:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-21 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-21 03:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-21 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-21 07:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-25 10:45 pm (UTC)