Echo Invictus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
but_can_i_be_trusted) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2016-08-21 10:24 pm
but_can_i_be_trusted) wrote in fandomweekly2016-08-21 10:24 pm
Entry tags:
[#021] Vulture and Falcon (Doctor Who)
Theme Prompt: #021: Birds of a Feather
Title: 'Vulture and Falcon'
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating/Warnings: PG; very mildly gruesome imagery
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 275
Summary: It turns my stomach, that you'd dare to imply that we are anything alike.
And so we meet again. As we always do--as it seems we always must. The Doctor and the Master, face to face once more. Much as I'd prefer to avoid these dark reunions of ours, they appear to be inevitable. The years may pass, and our faces may change, but this much is constant. We come together, to do what we do best: You, to sow chaos...me, to do my utmost to prevent it.
I can hardly spare the time or effort, but I can't help asking you: "Why do we always cross paths?"
You reply with a politeness that I know is more sarcasm than manners. "You're aware of that old Earth adage. Birds of a feather, et cetera."
An unwelcome image flashes into my mind: An enormous vulture, circling through the sky, its plumage greasy and clotted with congealing blood.
It turns my stomach, that you'd dare to imply that we are anything alike. We are the same race, but the similarities end there. I will not be like you--I refuse.
"Do you object to the comparison," you ask me with a heartless smile, as though reading my thoughts.
"Would you expect me to do anything else," I mutter in disgust.
You laugh at my discomfort, amused at your ability to once again upset my balance. You're so confident in that. Overconfident, as it happens. So sure are you that your schemes are unstoppable that you never expect me to succeed in stopping them.
If you are the vulture, the symbol of death and decay, then that leaves me to be the falcon, swooping in out of nowhere, when you least expect it.
Title: 'Vulture and Falcon'
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating/Warnings: PG; very mildly gruesome imagery
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 275
Summary: It turns my stomach, that you'd dare to imply that we are anything alike.
And so we meet again. As we always do--as it seems we always must. The Doctor and the Master, face to face once more. Much as I'd prefer to avoid these dark reunions of ours, they appear to be inevitable. The years may pass, and our faces may change, but this much is constant. We come together, to do what we do best: You, to sow chaos...me, to do my utmost to prevent it.
I can hardly spare the time or effort, but I can't help asking you: "Why do we always cross paths?"
You reply with a politeness that I know is more sarcasm than manners. "You're aware of that old Earth adage. Birds of a feather, et cetera."
An unwelcome image flashes into my mind: An enormous vulture, circling through the sky, its plumage greasy and clotted with congealing blood.
It turns my stomach, that you'd dare to imply that we are anything alike. We are the same race, but the similarities end there. I will not be like you--I refuse.
"Do you object to the comparison," you ask me with a heartless smile, as though reading my thoughts.
"Would you expect me to do anything else," I mutter in disgust.
You laugh at my discomfort, amused at your ability to once again upset my balance. You're so confident in that. Overconfident, as it happens. So sure are you that your schemes are unstoppable that you never expect me to succeed in stopping them.
If you are the vulture, the symbol of death and decay, then that leaves me to be the falcon, swooping in out of nowhere, when you least expect it.
no subject
no subject
(Cool icon, by the way!)
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject