Post by Ribs, Suthers' Pal on Jan 6, 2017 16:31:11 GMT
Crouched over, the Brigadier slowly rose to his feet, shocked at his surroundings.
“What the devil?” He called, “where am I?”
A lowly voice seemed to come from the ground just over the hill. It wasn’t flat, but it was empty, aside from a lot of rubble.
“Sir?” A hand appeared in the distance; a trench, fantastic! The Brigadier sprinted over towards it, and hopped inside.
“Ah, men, who’re we fighting this time? It’s not the Robulons again, is it?”
The battalion of German soldiers, clad in gray uniforms and pickelhaubes, grimaced at him.
“Sir, I don’t quite understand the joke.”
Oh no, the Brigadier thought. “I’m not in the Pachinko Parlor anymore.”
He had hurtled back in time to the days of the Great War, and somebody had put him on the wrong side. He looked down and saw his matching German uniform, grimacing. He assumed he, somehow, was speaking German.
“What’s our plan, Brigadier, sir?” asked PFC Luther, apparently somehow the next highest ranking officer. “We’re going to go over the hill and get those Limeys?”
“Yes, yes, I suppose - no, wait, no, we can’t do that. Er, let’s just stay put and have some more tea.”
“I don’t mean to disobey your commands, sir,” Luther explained, “but the Brits still have Madame X, and will do whatever they can to suss out the secret plans from her. We should take action.”
“Private, I am the one in charge here. We’ll just let her be tortured. Take a kind of pleasure in it, in fact. You know, that old German saying - taking pleasure in the misery of others.” He couldn’t say it - the lexical gap preventing the intermingling of languages in everyday speech. “Please in the misery of others. Pleasure in the-” Luther patted him on the shoulder, and sat him down, thinking he was going insane.
Later that night, Luther outlined an ambitious set of objectives to cross no man’s land, enter the English trench, and retrieve Madame X before she reveals the secrets of the German advance. The Brigadier would come along, reluctantly.
Practically being dragged there, the Brigadier’s stomach turned with the thought of what he might be aiding. Under cover of night, the Germans snuck across and began to slit the throats of the entire bunker. Coming across the ranking First Lieutenant, another private handed the Brigadier the blade, giving him the honor of dispatching the man. To the Brigadier’s surprise, it was no man at all.
“Lu Pi- er, Ms. Primrose!” He excitedly yell-whispered, shocked and horrified. Just how did they end up here?
A private gestured for him to murder the sleeping woman, but the Brigadier belayed that order. No, he thought, they’ll take her with them. On they went to find the mysterious Madame X.
Finding a sealed room, they blew the door off its hinges. A gray-haired man stood in front of the woman, tied to a wooden chair, his back to the door.
“Stop what you’re doing!” The Brigadier commanded. The man turned - it was Doctor Who, but not the one he was expecting. Gone was the long coat and trendy afro, the long scarf and the deep, booming voice. This was the Doctor Who the Brigadier knew best, his trusty scientific advisor. His expression was one of baffled bemusement.
“Brigadier - you speak German?” He smiled. “How did you get here, you devil!” He reached out his hand in greeting, only to be beaten down with a bayonet by one of the Brigadier’s squadron.
“No, please, at ease, men, I know this man,” he sent them patrolling the trench outside.
“I was just here to uncover the secret plans to help the war effort, as I do every night before tea. On my own, you know.”
“You didn’t bring Ms. Primrose with you?”
“What - Lu Ping is here?” He turned aside, muttering to himself. “No, she- she still thinks I’m dead. To me, anyway. Spoilers.” The Brigadier shook his head in displeasure. “Anyway, how are you here?”
“That’s just it, last thing I remember Ms. Primrose and I were enjoying some games in Downtown Hong Kong when suddenly I’m in a field, fifty years ago, on the wrong side!”
Suddenly, a chuckle filled the room. It was loud, and omnipresent, coming from all sides. They both simultaneously realized where it was coming from.
“Oh, darlings!” The Birnam Witch stood from her position, having broken from her ties to the wooden chair, as Yakuza hitmen suddenly entered the room and detained the two of them. “You never know what to expect with me, do you?”
“Of course!” The Brigadier exclaimed, realizing it was their old nemesis exacting revenge upon them.
“Er- of course what?” The Doctor asked, confused.
“It’s our old nemesis,” he explained, “exacting revenge upon us.”
“Ah,” he turned to a whisper. “Which old nemesis?”
“That minx, the Birnam Witch!” He pointed at her as her true shape revealed itself, a quite friendly looking old fairy godmother type, albeit with a heart of pure unvarnished evil.
“He doesn’t know me yet, darling.” She explained, sprinkling fairy dust using her wand. “Now he does.”
She rewrote history with the swipe of her wrist, moving the timeline Doctor Who’s past and present lives to converge with hers. She was, suddenly, one of his greatest nemeses. At a future time, Doctor Who would regale the Brigadier with stories of their encounters, and she would play an active part in their adventures from that point on. She had limitless power, the ability to travel and move things and ideas forwards and backwards in space time, to rewrite histories and erase people with a wave of her wand, and complete dominion over all people, places, and things living or dead.
She also has a crush on the Brigadier.
“Briggy, dearie, please! Let’s stop all this unpleasantness and run away together, to one of the moons of Pluto or something.”
“I believe I’d asphyxiate, madam.”
She chuckled as she twinkled her nose. “Now you won’t. C’mon, it’d be fun!”
“You know,” the Doctor began, “across all our episodes, I never understand why you simply don’t rejig the fundamental fabric of the universe to force him to love you.”
“That’s rape, dear. It’s a crime,” she shrugged at the Brigadier, cackling as she pointed at Doctor Who, “this guy, total wacko, am I right?”
“So what am I doing here?” The Brigadier asked. “Why did you bring me and Ms. Primrose out of our own time?”
She suddenly produced a deck of tarot cards from thin air, which floated into a specific order. “The cards have said something is wrong.”
The Hermit. The Sun. Judgment.
“I don’t know what you’re running from,” the Witch told him. “You should have left well enough alone.”
The Devil. The Hanged Man.
Unsettled, the Doctor studied the cards. He didn’t believe in hokum, but his many years of experience taught him to always trust this ancient deity. She had to be right.
“And if I need you-” the Doctor asked.
“I’ll be there. I always am.”
The Brigadier rose with a start, his head buried into the base of a Pachinko Machine. He had won the jackpot, apparently. Lu Ping sat by his side, still playing her game. She had overheard everything in that bunker, knowing she was the only one who could save the Brigadier’s life. She would need to fix time, one way or the other.
The Master had seen all this through his direct access to the security camera feed of the Pachinko Parlor, and jotted down some quick notes. Yes, he would beat the Birnam Witch at her own game yet.
Doctor Who, watching this from his own crystal ball, chuckled.
“What the devil?” He called, “where am I?”
A lowly voice seemed to come from the ground just over the hill. It wasn’t flat, but it was empty, aside from a lot of rubble.
“Sir?” A hand appeared in the distance; a trench, fantastic! The Brigadier sprinted over towards it, and hopped inside.
“Ah, men, who’re we fighting this time? It’s not the Robulons again, is it?”
The battalion of German soldiers, clad in gray uniforms and pickelhaubes, grimaced at him.
“Sir, I don’t quite understand the joke.”
Oh no, the Brigadier thought. “I’m not in the Pachinko Parlor anymore.”
He had hurtled back in time to the days of the Great War, and somebody had put him on the wrong side. He looked down and saw his matching German uniform, grimacing. He assumed he, somehow, was speaking German.
“What’s our plan, Brigadier, sir?” asked PFC Luther, apparently somehow the next highest ranking officer. “We’re going to go over the hill and get those Limeys?”
“Yes, yes, I suppose - no, wait, no, we can’t do that. Er, let’s just stay put and have some more tea.”
“I don’t mean to disobey your commands, sir,” Luther explained, “but the Brits still have Madame X, and will do whatever they can to suss out the secret plans from her. We should take action.”
“Private, I am the one in charge here. We’ll just let her be tortured. Take a kind of pleasure in it, in fact. You know, that old German saying - taking pleasure in the misery of others.” He couldn’t say it - the lexical gap preventing the intermingling of languages in everyday speech. “Please in the misery of others. Pleasure in the-” Luther patted him on the shoulder, and sat him down, thinking he was going insane.
Later that night, Luther outlined an ambitious set of objectives to cross no man’s land, enter the English trench, and retrieve Madame X before she reveals the secrets of the German advance. The Brigadier would come along, reluctantly.
Practically being dragged there, the Brigadier’s stomach turned with the thought of what he might be aiding. Under cover of night, the Germans snuck across and began to slit the throats of the entire bunker. Coming across the ranking First Lieutenant, another private handed the Brigadier the blade, giving him the honor of dispatching the man. To the Brigadier’s surprise, it was no man at all.
“Lu Pi- er, Ms. Primrose!” He excitedly yell-whispered, shocked and horrified. Just how did they end up here?
A private gestured for him to murder the sleeping woman, but the Brigadier belayed that order. No, he thought, they’ll take her with them. On they went to find the mysterious Madame X.
Finding a sealed room, they blew the door off its hinges. A gray-haired man stood in front of the woman, tied to a wooden chair, his back to the door.
“Stop what you’re doing!” The Brigadier commanded. The man turned - it was Doctor Who, but not the one he was expecting. Gone was the long coat and trendy afro, the long scarf and the deep, booming voice. This was the Doctor Who the Brigadier knew best, his trusty scientific advisor. His expression was one of baffled bemusement.
“Brigadier - you speak German?” He smiled. “How did you get here, you devil!” He reached out his hand in greeting, only to be beaten down with a bayonet by one of the Brigadier’s squadron.
“No, please, at ease, men, I know this man,” he sent them patrolling the trench outside.
“I was just here to uncover the secret plans to help the war effort, as I do every night before tea. On my own, you know.”
“You didn’t bring Ms. Primrose with you?”
“What - Lu Ping is here?” He turned aside, muttering to himself. “No, she- she still thinks I’m dead. To me, anyway. Spoilers.” The Brigadier shook his head in displeasure. “Anyway, how are you here?”
“That’s just it, last thing I remember Ms. Primrose and I were enjoying some games in Downtown Hong Kong when suddenly I’m in a field, fifty years ago, on the wrong side!”
Suddenly, a chuckle filled the room. It was loud, and omnipresent, coming from all sides. They both simultaneously realized where it was coming from.
“Oh, darlings!” The Birnam Witch stood from her position, having broken from her ties to the wooden chair, as Yakuza hitmen suddenly entered the room and detained the two of them. “You never know what to expect with me, do you?”
“Of course!” The Brigadier exclaimed, realizing it was their old nemesis exacting revenge upon them.
“Er- of course what?” The Doctor asked, confused.
“It’s our old nemesis,” he explained, “exacting revenge upon us.”
“Ah,” he turned to a whisper. “Which old nemesis?”
“That minx, the Birnam Witch!” He pointed at her as her true shape revealed itself, a quite friendly looking old fairy godmother type, albeit with a heart of pure unvarnished evil.
“He doesn’t know me yet, darling.” She explained, sprinkling fairy dust using her wand. “Now he does.”
She rewrote history with the swipe of her wrist, moving the timeline Doctor Who’s past and present lives to converge with hers. She was, suddenly, one of his greatest nemeses. At a future time, Doctor Who would regale the Brigadier with stories of their encounters, and she would play an active part in their adventures from that point on. She had limitless power, the ability to travel and move things and ideas forwards and backwards in space time, to rewrite histories and erase people with a wave of her wand, and complete dominion over all people, places, and things living or dead.
She also has a crush on the Brigadier.
“Briggy, dearie, please! Let’s stop all this unpleasantness and run away together, to one of the moons of Pluto or something.”
“I believe I’d asphyxiate, madam.”
She chuckled as she twinkled her nose. “Now you won’t. C’mon, it’d be fun!”
“You know,” the Doctor began, “across all our episodes, I never understand why you simply don’t rejig the fundamental fabric of the universe to force him to love you.”
“That’s rape, dear. It’s a crime,” she shrugged at the Brigadier, cackling as she pointed at Doctor Who, “this guy, total wacko, am I right?”
“So what am I doing here?” The Brigadier asked. “Why did you bring me and Ms. Primrose out of our own time?”
She suddenly produced a deck of tarot cards from thin air, which floated into a specific order. “The cards have said something is wrong.”
The Hermit. The Sun. Judgment.
“I don’t know what you’re running from,” the Witch told him. “You should have left well enough alone.”
The Devil. The Hanged Man.
Unsettled, the Doctor studied the cards. He didn’t believe in hokum, but his many years of experience taught him to always trust this ancient deity. She had to be right.
“And if I need you-” the Doctor asked.
“I’ll be there. I always am.”
The Brigadier rose with a start, his head buried into the base of a Pachinko Machine. He had won the jackpot, apparently. Lu Ping sat by his side, still playing her game. She had overheard everything in that bunker, knowing she was the only one who could save the Brigadier’s life. She would need to fix time, one way or the other.
The Master had seen all this through his direct access to the security camera feed of the Pachinko Parlor, and jotted down some quick notes. Yes, he would beat the Birnam Witch at her own game yet.
Doctor Who, watching this from his own crystal ball, chuckled.