Application: The Rani (Doctor Who)

[markoftherani]

The inside of the Rani's TARDIS was an unholy mess.

The Tetraps had done plenty of damage to begin with (and they'd left a fair amount of their effluvia behind, disgusting), and trying to get them out had done even more. An entire century's worth of experiments in wreckage on the floor, the contents of the greenhouse half-eaten, –and where in the universe was she going to get another Katraxian sunflower?– five hundred years' worth of notes in disarray, the neutron accelerator completely trashed, to say nothing of the hypersonic regulators -- and all of this on top of the fact that she'd never had a chance to repair the damage that unmitigated –here was a curse that couldn't quite be spoken with normal humanoid vocal chords– did when he separated the secondary console room and left her with that damn Tyrannosaurus...

Time to find somewhere quiet to settle down and fix the poor thing. She patted the console soothingly –there there, my love, it'll be all right, we'll get you back in order soon enough; that nice little planet in the Argos system should do nicely– flicked a few switches and adjusted one of the sliders—

The floor tilted wildly and she fell, catching hold of the edge of the console by her fingernails. Alarm klaxons screaming –Rassilon's arse, was that the cloister bell?– an awful groaning noise from somewhere down the corridors. She slammed her hand down on the emergency stabiliser and after one more stomach-jolting shake, everything was still.

She leaned against the console, taking stock. Her TARDIS was queasy and drowsy at the same time, and it made the Rani's stomach turn just a little as well. She checked her instruments and frowned. That time reading couldn't possibly be right, could it? And those spatial readings—what did those coordinates even mean?

Only one way to find out.

She pushed the door open and blinked in the bright sunlight. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that the chameleon circuit was working properly; to any other viewer, it would seem that the entrance plaza had sprouted an extra ticketing booth. She looked up at the sky and frowned. –Looks and smells like a bog-standard carbon-based-life-supporting planet orbiting a G-class star, but the time flow is all wonky, and dear Rassilon what is that?–

***

She takes a step towards the curious two-dimensional mouse, tries to walk around it, and when it talks, it has to be admitted that she jumps a little.

Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"

"Who's asking?" she retorts. When no response seems forthcoming, she says, "I am called the Rani."

"What is your quest?" asks the Cat. It's perched, suddenly, on the roof of one of the gate-stiles.

Talking cats. Two-dimensional talking cartoon mice –wasn't this one from that planet the Doctor loves so much, that little third-rate watery rock with the unfortunately all-too-useful natives– and the flow or not-flow of time creating a feeling of pressure behind her eyes... She feels she's entirely justified in snapping, "None of your business."

"'What is the average w..?'" Mickey frowns down at the notebook. "You know, I don't really see why that's important." He flips a page. "'If you could be granted three wishes, what would they be?'"

She rolls her eyes. "As if wishes have any consequence in reality. Very well, if I must—I'd wish for my TARDIS to be repaired, for a fully-outfitted laboratory, and a planet where I can work in peace." She'd had Miasimia Gloria, of course, until everything there had dissolved into chaos. No thanks to the Doctor, as far as she was concerned.

"Or," the Cat says, examining its tail with interest, "if you were a genie and someone you were trying to give three wishes to was trying to trick you into giving him more, what would you say?"

"Is shooting the fool allowed?"

Mickey looks rather nonplused at the next, but reads, "'When the revolution comes, what skills will you be able to barter for food?'"

"Are you expecting a revolution? There are things that can be done, you know, to prevent such inconveniences from happening, but -- you were asking about skills. I am a scientist. I could engineer troops to handle the anarchy effectively. Were a food shortage to become an issue, I've no doubt I would be able to help find a resolution. I expect I could be of considerable use."

Of course, it's possible that her methods would have certain detrimental (and potentially lethal) effects on the subjects during the experimentation and refinement processes, but that was the cost of doing business, as it were.

The Cat rolls its eyes in a friendly (and rather disconcertingly out-of-sync) way, and asks, "Milk, dark, or white chocolate?"

She takes a deep breath, straining to keep her temper in check. This is becoming most wearisome. "Chocolate." Oh, yes, the plant-derived theobromine-and-vegetable-fat compound from that stupid backwater planet. "None. I can't stand the stuff."

"'Choose the two coolest: robots, pirates, fairies, bears, ninjas, monkeys, vampires, or humans,'" says Mickey, giggling a bit as he goes through the list. "'Explain.'"

–This is the biggest pile of nonsense I've had to sit through since that time at the Academy when bloody damn Mortimus decided– Not something she wants to think about right now. "I cannot believe I'm answering this infantile question, but if you've got to have one, very well -- robots and monkeys. Robots make reliable servants and monkeys uncomplaining test subjects." She shoots a look at the Cat that suggests it'd make a good one itself, if not for the whole talking thing. Talking test subjects are an annoyance.

"Great!" Mickey flips through the blank pages of the notebook at top, cartoon-y speed. "Well, I think that's just about it! Oh, and I'm supposed to ask, 'for your safety: are you carrying anything sharp?'"

"Not on me, no," she snaps. What's on board her TARDIS isn't up for discussion. "Now I've got a question of my own: where in the name of the Pythia am I?"


((Say hello to the Rani, mad scientist and villainess extraordinaire from classic Doctor Who. She's taken from a point after the end of Time and the Rani. Note that for the sake of my brain, she currently looks more like she does in Mark of the Rani -- long straight hair, fitted jacket, leather trousers, boots with wicked heels. No poofy 1980s hair and space-cadet getup. Here's a screencap gallery. Check out her userinfo for background tl;dr, video links, and other fun and games. The muns for the Doctor and the Master have given their enthusiastic permission to torture their characters even more.))

Comments

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

“I told you, he’s getting subtler with age.” The Doctor’s been shifting his weight from side to side for some time, and now he starts to bounce with slightly more vigor. He shoves his hand into one jacket pocket and comes out a moment later with a small red ball. He bounces it once off the pavement and catches it again.

[markoftherani]

"And you've gotten more manic. At least you got rid of that horrendous coat."

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

"Ridiculous beard and horrendous coat? And those insults were ultra-chic, then?" Honestly, what was wrong with the bea--

No, really not going there right now.

The Master tipped his head back and forth, then couldn't stop himself from mentioning, "He's still got the coat, of course. I've been trying to burn it."

[markoftherani]

"Insults? Hardly, those were observations." She rolled her eyes. "He still has it. Of course he still has it. The Doctor's sentimentality is a universal constant."

Speaking of sentimentality... "Still got that irritating redhead traveling with you?"

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

The Doctor blinks at her. “It’s been a hundred years,” he repeats, a bit slowly and painstakingly. “Of course not.”

He tosses the ball back and forth from hand to hand a few times, trying to think of a way to protest the insults to his old coat and, more importantly, his sentimentality. After a moment he gives up and closing one hand around the ball and the other around nothing but air, he offers both fists to the Master.

“Choose,” he says.

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

"And we all know how much you loathe sentimentality, Rani. Or any other emotion, for that matter." He sneers a little, then hears the Doctor's voice and turns to see...

Oh, he had to be joking.

"Why?"

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

The Doctor shrugs.

“Come on, which hand?”

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

The Master rolls his eyes and sighs as though the whole prospect of the thing is completely offensive. He rubs his gloved hands together and taps the Doctor's right hand.

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

The Doctor turns over his hand and opens it to reveal his empty palm. He grins broadly, and a second later he’s tossing the ball back and forth again, then hiding it in his hands and offering them to the Master once more.

“Again?” he questions, in a bit of a haughty little ‘think you can do better this time?’ tone.

[markoftherani]

If the Master thinks jabs about the Rani's attitude toward emotions are going to annoy her (much less hurt), he's got another think coming.

She watches the little game with an expression of utter disbelief on her face. –and since it's him, chances are exactly equal that he's either being daft or has something else up his sleeve–

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

All right. The Doctor has clearly lost it. In front of the Rani. In this place, where things seem to get exponentially worse by the day. –or something like a day, since they weren't really anything like–

He is absolutely going to kill the Doctor if he loses his mind.

So he clearly has to humour the idiot.

He taps the opposite fist.

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

The Doctor again reveals an empty palm. He cocks an eyebrow at the Master.

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

Oh really now, did he honestly think he was being that smart?

Not that the Master actually know how to do that.

'Is this the part where I 'ooo' and 'aahhh' and applaud your general cleverness? What are you doing, anyway?"

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

“Don’t you want to know where it is?” the Doctor asks, wide-eyed and seemingly innocent.

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

"Don't you want to know where it's going to be?" the Master shoots back sweetly.

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

The Doctor huffs, but persists in opening his other hand and raising both palms to show that his hands are truly empty. Then he reaches forward with the first and appears to pull the ball from behind the Master’s ear.

“You’re no fun,” he says.

[markoftherani]

"Lunatics," the Rani says. "Both of you, utter lunatics and useless as ever. Are you quite sure that this isn't some kind of exceptionally clever punishment devised by the High Council to deal with its renegades?"

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

"Useless?" The Master looks affronted in the extreme. "Before I got here, I'd become Prime Minister of Great Britain and taken over planet Earth using a satellite network, mass hypnotism, a laser screwdriver, a self-built paradox machine and the human race from the End of the Universe. I'll go kiss Rassilon's chapped arse if you can claim to have done something more impressive in your recent timeline."

He glances over at the Doctor in regard to the question. "And yes. We can be quite, quite sure. We couldn't be more sure."

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

The Doctor looks tired as he meets the Master’s gaze.

“Quite quite quite sure,” he agrees. One hand tugs at his ear. “If for no other reason than this place has waaayy too much imagination, not to mention Earth cultural references.”

[markoftherani]

"My recent timeline is not up for discussion," the Rani says irritably. "Especially considering that the results all but destroyed the inside of my TARDIS." She has to admit, though, that she's impressed. "A paradox machine? Of all the nerve. You would." It's as close to sincere admiration as she's likely to get, at least at this juncture.

She snorts and acknowledges the Doctor's observation with a nod. She's not going to go as far as to say you're right. There's an enormous thing that the two of them aren't telling her that has everything to do with their home planet; even if she hadn't known them since they were children, it would have been obvious, but clarification is obviously not coming anytime soon.

"One other question, Doctor. It was implicit earlier, but as you seem to have missed it, I shall spell it out for you. Are you actually flying solo these days? I see there's no one dragging around at your heels at the moment." –apart from—ha—the Master– "That seems very unlike you." –always picking up some stray baby something or other, and he's never stopped–

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

“Out of my TARDIS,” the Doctor adds to the Rani’s grudging admiration for the Master’s achievement. “Cheeky. You know he’s probably wanted to build one since school.” –it’s the first time he’s acknowledged their childhood aloud or in his head since she arrived. it feels strange–

He gives her a wide-eyed look.

“Well I showed up here all by my lonesome. But I’ve made lots of friends since then; you’d be surprised at how many fascinating people you can find in the park. I expect that you’ll dislike most of them.”

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

The Master raises his eyebrows at the Rani's comment about the state of her TARDIS as if to say that bad, huh? Nevertheless, he knows that praise from the Rani isn't exactly something that ever gets doled out, and he also knows that 'of all the nerve' isn't actually an insult. So he only grins. And grins wider when the Doctor gets all defensive about it. "I have wanted to build one since school, matter of fact. In fact, I'm sure I mentioned it at one point. I think you were horrified at the idea."

He doesn't make any comment on the Doctor's de-companionised status because a) he isn't entirely sure what had happened with the last crew and b) the present day companion is not someone the Rani needs to look in on too closely. "Remember, the Rani dislikes everyone, Doctor; your friends should be no exception."

[markoftherani]

He had mentioned it; one of the rare times she was talking to him without the other also being around. They'd gotten into an argument over the best methods for stabilising the paradox, and then the other arrived, asked what they were talking about, and nearly imploded in furious horror. And that was the end of that discussion.

"You both assume that they are worthy even of dislike," she mutters. She's never understood the Doctor's apparent taste in screeching ninnies—at least that's how it seems to her, based on the ones she's met. —and yes, impersonating the one is one of the stupidest things you've ever done; with the benefit of hindsight, you wonder how you thought it was a good idea to begin with–

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

“I’m still horrified,” the Doctor says matter-of-factly, but his tone is devoid of rancor. –the wonderful thing about a paradox machine is that without it, all the damage (well, most of it) can never have happened. he’d been counting on that the moment he realized how the Master had trapped him–

He’s forgiven the Master long since.

“I sort-of feel bad about that,” he continues to them both. “I mean, what else is there to do around here besides hob-nob with your fellow Disneyland captives? And no,” he points a finger at her. “You can’t start experimenting on them.”

[markoftherani]

"Not even the Tyrannosaurus?" Could that possibly be a joke? Just a little one? Maybe if you squinted and turned your head sideways ninety degrees...

"And who would enforce this ban, anyway? You and what police force?"