“How DARE you, Rose Tyler! What happened to sisters over misters? We were meant to be the bleach-dyed duo and now you’ve gone and spoiled our mojo!”
“You’re tellin’ me that Time Lords have to reduce themselves to bleach? Talk about superior biology. Oh, please tell me hers is bleached, too? We’re not the bleached trio, are we?”
“Well I didn’t exactly bleach my hair during the brief interlude when it was THAT pale a blond; I wouldn’t go for a bottle of Sun-In while I was a cannibalistic electric skeleton running naked about London at Christmastime, now would I? Bit of a complication with being resurrected properly and an angry ex-wife. Some ex-wives want alimony, but mine? Me as a cannibalistic electric skeleton, I suppose, or, you know, rather dead. As for the Doctor, she came out the regeneration with that hair, but I guess we’ll see when her roots grow out.”
“Superior Time Lord biology, wouldn’t you have to eat a lot for those to even affect you? How many brownies did you have?”
“You mean t’tell me the Doct’r nev’r told you …” The Master clears his throat, and reaches out to grasp the side of the table firmly, against an undignified wave of dizziness. He squints, and focuses ferociously on enunciation. “ … abou-t. The highly compromising. Effects. Of ginger?”
He sinks down where he’s mistaken a chair to be; it’s about four inches back from where his ass lands, and he sits, decisively, on the linoleum.
“ … I meant to do that.”
Oh dear. I’m embarrassing myself in front of the Bad Wolf, who consumed the Heart of a TARDIS. How terribly unfortunate.
She looks good in pink. A blond in pink.
Huh.
Well that’s unexpected. Maybe I should add some pink to my wardrobe. Rather inspired, that.
Was it rude to laugh at an intoxicated person if they didn’t mean to be intoxicated? Probably, but Rose couldn’t stifle the giggle that burst past her lips. The Master was absolutely sloshed and on her floor. “He didn’t, but we never even drank together. Didn’t know ginger affected you this much. Ginger brownies are my mum’s specialty.”
For a man who talked about how almighty he was, seeing him in a state like this was quite amusing. It made her wonder what would happen if the Doctor got his hands on a few of these brownies. “Y’ need help over there? Wanna try sittin’ again?” She walked over and reached out a hand to help him up. The poor bloke.
“Why, my DEAR girl, I do believe I already AM. Sitting, I mean.”
A marked giddiness permeates the moment; Koschei snickers and it becomes a full-bodied cackle which is remarkably infectious.
“Ya MOOM, huh?”
He squints up at Rose thickly, but eventually accepts her hand, a miracle in and of itself, and further evidence both of his respect for this particular Companion, and his intoxication. He wobbles his ass into the nearest chair, leans back and blinks rapidly.
“Mm-HM. Maybe I’ll date her, and you can date the Doctor, and we’ll go on weird double-dates, and become the soobject of the next trashy … daytime … talk-show … Jerry … what’s that bloke’s name? Season … SPRINGER. We could go on Jerry Springer. How about that, Miss Rose Tyler?”
He snorts another laugh.
“I’m joost shitten’ ye, I’ll probably get jealous and try to kill you! Oho WOW. My internal monologue is GONE, Rose. What do I DO?! Heh-HAH!”
I literally can think of no other reason, yeah. It’s one thing to RESERVE JUDGMENT COMPLETELY, good or bad, until she has more screen time. It’s another to say “I’m not a fan of her.”
Icarus 