Doctor Who | Between a Rock
Mar. 13th, 2008 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eponymous_roseTitle: Between a Rock
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eponymous_rose
Word Count: 650
Rating: G
Characters: Fitz Kreiner, OAC (Original Architectural Character), mentions of Eight
Author's Note: What? I have to practise writing Fitz at some point before this weekend!
Fitz stared at the wall, and the wall stared back. Morosely.
"Oh, you're not going to scream, are you?" The bricks and mortar rearranged themselves to give the distinct impression of a dejected sigh. "I get rather tired of people screaming the first time they see a talking jail cell, you know. Trying on the nerves."
With an effort, Fitz swallowed what was almost certainly going to be an exceptionally manly yelp. And while he felt a bit like he was starting to get a handle on the whole situation, it never hurt to be sure. "You're a wall," he pointed out.
"Four walls and a door," said the wall, with the bored air that comes of being firmly rooted in one place for too long. "Best guard in the Temple, I was. Commendations all over - and then somebody imprisoned the high muckity-muck of somewhere, and he just happened to be an expert in something, and he up and fused my indefinable essence, my very existence, to this jail cell."
Fitz felt the lull in conversation starting to take on awkward proportions, and added: "Oh. That's- that's fairly terrible."
The bricks slumped alarmingly, and Fitz stumbled back from the wall. "But what's rather more terrible," the wall moaned, "is I've gone and blurted my whole story to you right from the start. I hear you're here for insubordination. Maybe I should have saved the interesting bits for a few decades down the line."
The survival instinct, Fitz had heard, could conquer everything. He'd experienced as much on a daily basis since meeting the Doctor, in fact, and as far as he could tell, there was only one thing more powerful, more overwhelming than the need to stay alive.
Small-talk.
Fitz nodded sympathetically. "If it's any consolation, I've had a hell of a day as well," he said, in what he hoped was the clever segue that would enable him to kick his survival instinct into full gear.
The bricks settled into what looked like a more comfortable position. "Well," said the wall, with a vague, storytelling sort of mien, "I suppose it's not all bad."
"Oh, no, not at all," said Fitz.
"I still have a job, at least. I mean, being a Temple guard is an honour and a privilege. And I did receive a medal for valour," it added.
"Did you really?" said Fitz.
"They propped it against the north wall for a whole week," said the wall, and Fitz nodded for a moment before seizing the contemplative silence that followed.
"Look," he said, "I was just wondering whether you might be able to let me out of here. Let me escape, you know?"
The wall shifted. "Well," it said, "that would probably cut down on any future commendations."
Fitz strode to the other end of the room, sighed, and wondered whether his pride could take another rescue from the Doctor.
With very little warning, the wall before him crumbled away, revealing an open corridor beyond. "Er," he said. "You're coming apart."
"I'm letting you escape," said the wall.
"Oh," said Fitz, and peered out at the corridor. Nobody was about. "Thanks."
"I might as well," said the wall, with a crumbling sigh. "Someone, at least, ought to have freedom."
While Fitz didn't much want to stick around and find out what passed for tears when you were made of brick and stone, he did pat the disintegrating brick reassuringly on his way out.
As he tore down yet another featureless set of corridors, he tried to orient himself with respect to the plausible locations of all the people most likely to kill him. And somewhere around the third left and sixth right, he resolved to mention to the Doctor that, if this all ended in revolution, he might want to suggest to the governing class that a bit more priority be given to job satisfaction.
Author:
eponymous_roseWord Count: 650
Rating: G
Characters: Fitz Kreiner, OAC (Original Architectural Character), mentions of Eight
Author's Note: What? I have to practise writing Fitz at some point before this weekend!
Fitz stared at the wall, and the wall stared back. Morosely.
"Oh, you're not going to scream, are you?" The bricks and mortar rearranged themselves to give the distinct impression of a dejected sigh. "I get rather tired of people screaming the first time they see a talking jail cell, you know. Trying on the nerves."
With an effort, Fitz swallowed what was almost certainly going to be an exceptionally manly yelp. And while he felt a bit like he was starting to get a handle on the whole situation, it never hurt to be sure. "You're a wall," he pointed out.
"Four walls and a door," said the wall, with the bored air that comes of being firmly rooted in one place for too long. "Best guard in the Temple, I was. Commendations all over - and then somebody imprisoned the high muckity-muck of somewhere, and he just happened to be an expert in something, and he up and fused my indefinable essence, my very existence, to this jail cell."
Fitz felt the lull in conversation starting to take on awkward proportions, and added: "Oh. That's- that's fairly terrible."
The bricks slumped alarmingly, and Fitz stumbled back from the wall. "But what's rather more terrible," the wall moaned, "is I've gone and blurted my whole story to you right from the start. I hear you're here for insubordination. Maybe I should have saved the interesting bits for a few decades down the line."
The survival instinct, Fitz had heard, could conquer everything. He'd experienced as much on a daily basis since meeting the Doctor, in fact, and as far as he could tell, there was only one thing more powerful, more overwhelming than the need to stay alive.
Small-talk.
Fitz nodded sympathetically. "If it's any consolation, I've had a hell of a day as well," he said, in what he hoped was the clever segue that would enable him to kick his survival instinct into full gear.
The bricks settled into what looked like a more comfortable position. "Well," said the wall, with a vague, storytelling sort of mien, "I suppose it's not all bad."
"Oh, no, not at all," said Fitz.
"I still have a job, at least. I mean, being a Temple guard is an honour and a privilege. And I did receive a medal for valour," it added.
"Did you really?" said Fitz.
"They propped it against the north wall for a whole week," said the wall, and Fitz nodded for a moment before seizing the contemplative silence that followed.
"Look," he said, "I was just wondering whether you might be able to let me out of here. Let me escape, you know?"
The wall shifted. "Well," it said, "that would probably cut down on any future commendations."
Fitz strode to the other end of the room, sighed, and wondered whether his pride could take another rescue from the Doctor.
With very little warning, the wall before him crumbled away, revealing an open corridor beyond. "Er," he said. "You're coming apart."
"I'm letting you escape," said the wall.
"Oh," said Fitz, and peered out at the corridor. Nobody was about. "Thanks."
"I might as well," said the wall, with a crumbling sigh. "Someone, at least, ought to have freedom."
While Fitz didn't much want to stick around and find out what passed for tears when you were made of brick and stone, he did pat the disintegrating brick reassuringly on his way out.
As he tore down yet another featureless set of corridors, he tried to orient himself with respect to the plausible locations of all the people most likely to kill him. And somewhere around the third left and sixth right, he resolved to mention to the Doctor that, if this all ended in revolution, he might want to suggest to the governing class that a bit more priority be given to job satisfaction.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-03-14 12:44 pm (UTC)And the Cell in itself is... kind of cute. And of course, Fitz rocks.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-14 04:28 pm (UTC)The perfect Fitz line.
And I love the depressed!talking!jail cell. *pats it*
no subject
Date: 2008-03-15 09:21 am (UTC)And the wall is awsome too :D
no subject
Date: 2008-03-15 01:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-20 02:28 am (UTC)