Why So Dark?

I'm starting to scare me. A lot.

Instead of doing homework tonight like I SHOULD have been doing, my mind went off on a tangent and wouldn't you know it, there's another fanfic posted up on Teaspoon tonight (not approved yet, but should be tomorrow sometime).

And while I should be proud that I managed to pound out yet another Doctor Who story, what terrifies me is how darn dark my stories are starting to get lately.

This one is the darkest Who fic I have ever posted. I don't usually wander into swearing (one word, totally appropriate for the character and situation) or Master doing terrible things to the Doctor but tonight I did.

I'm quite happy with it, actually. It went way deeper into the Master/Doctor love/hate thing than I've gone before.

For those not familiar with these two, the Master and the Doctor are both Time Lords. The difference is that while the Doctor keeps most of his Oncoming Storm-ness restrained and only lets it out when he's really, really, really pissed off, the Master is, quite literally, NUTS. Psycho. Out of his silver Gallifreyan tree. Lives to dominate, subjugate, and frustrate the Doctor.

Of course, things are made worse by the fact that the Doctor has an inability to kill the Master outright and even manages to forgive him when he tries to take over the world. The Doctor's like that, though. Peacemaking and hates weapons and always trying to be merciful.

Thus there's a weird love-hate relationship going on and since these two have known each other since they were kids back on Gallifrey oh, a thousand years ago, there's a lot we don't know about the relationship. Not that the show writers would want to tell us. The mystery is half the fun here.

I love exploring these two's relationship because there's so MUCH stuff between them that a writer like me can't help but dig her hands in and swish around a bit to find something to tap into.

I don't know why I keep writing Who fic and can't get back to my own. Possibly I need to work on some stuff that doesn't involve creating a character but merely building off of ones that already exist and are ready made for my manipulation. I've gotta get back in the groove here; I've forgotten how to write since I wasn't able to type all that while. Got rusty. Maybe this is my way of sliding back in.

Well, my arm is getting warmer and warmer and that signals that I should really stop typing right now.

Ta,
Bec