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May 2015 Fanfic Challenge
purplecleric
After having got up before dawn to listen to the Magdalen College Choir sing in Oxford this morning, this quote sprang to mind - "More matter for a May morning." (Shakespeare)

So the word prompt for this month is ... MATTER

A physical substance, a subject under consideration or to be important or significant. You chose.

And for the scene this month:

He was in real trouble now. Vila took another look and felt the panic rise. How was he going to explain this? More importantly, would he live long enough to explain? His eyes darted about looking for somewhere to hide.

Have fun!
Edited by Travisina on 13 March 2016 20:07:16
 
trevor travis
“Vila, don’t you like me?”

“Uh?”

“Scorpio. It’s going to be an unlucky week for you. Your boyfriend will dump you, look out for a close friend stabbing you in the back, and wear clean underwear in case of a road accident.”

“Sorry Sarah, I was bored. I decided to make the horoscopes a little more colourful this week.”

****

“Hi Vila.”

“Hi Kenny.”

“Vila, can I have a quick word about the horoscopes?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’s just that ‘Taurus: your legs will drop off due to gangrene’ doesn’t seem quite appropriate material for the Junior Gazette. Although they seem to have done well compared with any poor old Leo’s!”

“And?”

“Lynda wants them re-done.”

“Oh!... but there’s only two hours before paste-up!”

“You’d better get your stakes on, then. You know me, Vila, I’m good cop. But if they are not ready in an hour, Lynda will be over, probably with a sharp implement!”

****

“Wake up Vila!”

“What? Dayna, Soolin….”

“Who? You were dreaming Vila. Finish the horoscopes now, or I’ll report that thing you did last week to Mr. Sullivan!”

“That thing?”

“Yes, that thing. You’ve got 10 minutes. And I want nice horoscopes. I don’t want anyone told that their grandmother will die in the next week, that a meteorite will land on their shed, or that they will wake up tomorrow with the worst acne ever! Have you got that Vila?”

“Yes, yes.”

Lynda stormed off. Vila sighed. There were times that life in the newsroom was no fun at all. There were also times he felt things weren’t right. He belonged to another time, another place.

****

Spike Thompson. The coolest kid in school. The one person who could melt the ice cold heart of Lynda Day. And a good friend of Vila’s.

Every day, after school, he would saunter into the newsroom, with sunglasses on (even in the dead of winter), and with his jacket thrown across his back, making a merry quip, that would make everyone laugh, except Lynda, who it would enrage.

Except today. He just opened the door, walked in and sat down.

“Hi Spike”, said Tiddler. Tiddler had a crush on Spike. “Are we still on for the interview with the owner of the local leisure centre tomorrow?”

“Probably.” Spike turned his glance away from her.

“What’s wrong?”, she asked.

“There’s nothing wrong. I’m just not feeling very talkative today.”

“Suit yourself then.” Tiddler shrugged and moved off. “See you tomorrow at 3pm”.

“Not necessarily”, said Spike under his breath.

****

Within no time at all, the newsroom was nearly empty. Thursday was always a quiet night. Lynda had gone off to the toilet, switching the sign from ‘gents’ to ‘ladies’ before she went in.

Vila suddenly found himself being roughly dragged to his feet by Spike.

“Hey, what are you up to? Go easy, will you, Spike?”

“I need to have a word with you in the graphics room, Vila.”

****

Vila was dumbfounded at what he had just heard.

“So, I don’t belong here at all.”

“No, Vila, you belong on the Liberator. Frazz Davies belongs here. You’ve taken his place.”

“And you’re not Spike?”

“No, as I told you, my name is Avon. I’m a crewmate of yours on the Liberator.”

Vila’s mind whirled. The Liberator… Avon… he recognised those names from his dreams.

“Remember Blake”, said Avon. “Remember Freedom City, remember Kerril…”

Suddenly Vila could feel the memories coming back into his head. They weren’t dreams. They were the reality.

“Avon, what I am doing here? And how come you look like Spike, and sound like Spike. You don’t normally have an American accent, do you? I’m confused. I need a drink.”

Avon smiled. Vila was almost back to his old self.

****

Vila had so many questions.

“So how come they call me Vila, if I’m actually this Frazz guy?”

“They don’t. It’s just a perception filter.”

“And you say something’s gone wrong?”

“Very wrong. I was trying to get us back using the Pan Genre Transition Machine…”

“Oh no, not that thing…”

“Yes that thing. When something interfered with the signal.”

“What?”

“Vila, take a look up at the top left…”

“You mean, where the little crochet Blake is. He’s kind of cute.”

“Look again, Vila!”

“Oh no, it’s… it’s….”

“It’s Og. We’re no longer part of a bad fanfic by Spaceship Dispatcher. We’re part of an even worse fanfic by someone called Trevor Travis.”

“And he has that horrible creature as his avatar?”

“You’ve never liked Og, have you?”

“No, not since his confused my bed for his litter tray on Xenon Base. It took three weeks to get rid of the smell.”

“Anyway, Ziggy says…”

“Who’s Ziggy?”

Avon/Spike produced the handheld computer. “This is Ziggy!”

“And where did that come from?”

“If you listen, then I’ll tell you.”

Avon waited for another interruption from Vila but there wasn’t one. He started his explanation. “Ziggy says that we’re fallen foul of the Pan Author Matter Machine, and therefore fallen into a fanfic by Trevor Travis….”

“Pan Author Matter? Another one of those damn things…”

“Yes! According to Ziggy, there’s a 93.08% chance that we are in a crossover fanfic with the children’s TV programme from the old calendar called Press Gang. But Trevor Travis’s mind is unstable and therefore this reality is unstable, and so elements of another TV programme called Quantum Leap, are bleeding into it. Ziggy says there is a 99.46% probability that he is one of these elements.”

“And this Trevor Travis? What does Ziggy say about him?”

“Ziggy says he is a Season Derek fan. And he therefore urges extreme caution.”

“Why?”

“Ziggy says TT’s stories often tell of the worm turning. So don’t try anything funny, Vila!”

Vila felt the concealed gun in his pocket. With Avon suspicious, his plans would have to wait for another time.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, as a Derek fan, Trevor Travis is likely to prefer depressing endings.”

“So how do we get out of here, before anything depressing happens to us?”

“We have to put right what once what wrong.”

“Eh?”

“Today Lynda and Spike are going to have a massive argument and will never see each other again. We have to prevent that from happening.”

Before either of them could speak, Lynda barged into the graphics room, an angry look on her face.

“I want words with you, Thompson”, she barked. She produced the airline ticket. “How come you never told me about this?”

“Er, I’ll leave you to it”, Vila said and quickly departed back into the main newsroom.

Vila could hear the blazing argument. As Avon wasn’t really Spike, he was trying to guide the conversation. It was unusual hearing Avon trying to be tactful, even if wasn’t in his usual voice. But everything he said just made Lynda madder. Here was a young lady who was even a match for Avon. She could practically have an argument with herself.

The row was almost at an end. It hadn’t gone well. So what happens now, thought Vila to himself, are we now stuck here until something depressing happens?

Suddenly he felt a strange sensation. And he was back in the graphics room.

“Avon, what just happened?”

“You leaped.”

“I what?”

“You leaped. I told you were there elements of Quantum Leap in TT’s Blake’s 7 / Press Gang crossover fanfic. You’re now inside the body of Lynda Day.”

“I’m a girl?” Vila was curious.

“Vila, stop doing that, it’s disgusting.”

Suddenly the graphics room disappeared. Instead they were outside the newsroom. A clown carrying a gun rushed past them and went into the building.

“What’s happening?”

“Ziggy says this reality is breaking down. It’s due to the unstable mind of TT. We have to escape quickly.”

“And how do we do that?”

“Ziggy says…. oh!”

“What?”

“Ziggy says we have to kiss.”

“We have to what?”

“Kiss. Spike and Lynda have to make up.”

“I’m not doing that!”

“Why?”

“Oh, it’s alright for you. I’m in a woman’s body. You can just close your eyes and pretend. But you’re a man. I’m not kissing you.”

The street disappeared. They were now somewhere underground where it looked like there had been an explosion. There was rubble everyone. There was the faint voice of a frightened sounding girl in the background.

“Vila, we have to do it NOW.”

“Oh, what the heck…”

They kissed.

“Vila, not with tongues…”

“Sorry.”

They leaped.

****

“So where are we now?”

“Ziggy says the block of flats a few metres to our right are called the Highpoint Flats. And he says we’re back in our own bodies.”

“And we’re out of that weird fanfic of Trevor Travis? I much prefer Starship Destroyer’s stories…”

“He’s called Spaceship Dispatcher.”

“Whatever. Are we out of Trevor Travis’s fanfic?”

“Not quite. Ziggy says we will shortly depart out of this fanfic and return to one of SD’s.” The handheld computer suddenly disappeared into thin air. “And there goes Ziggy!”

The flats started to fade away. Something else faded into existence on their left. Vila blinked to try to see what it was. “And how do we know we’re back in SD’s fanfics?”

The image became clearer. It was a tall, red-headed young woman in a very short skirt that could well be described as more of a belt than a skirt. She was handcuffed to the wall of a dungeon.

“This isn’t Rio”, she exclaimed in a Scottish accent. “And are one of you two going to uncuff me?”

“Vila, this is definitely one of SD’s fanfics.”

Meanwhile, the image of the flats had almost disappeared.

“Avon, that Ziggy computer got one thing wrong, though.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Well this isn’t a very depressing ending at all.”

At that moment, the shape of Jenny Eliot’s glue-sniffing brother, Michael, appeared out of the sky and landed on Vila. Both were killed instantly.

CUE JANGLY DEREK THEME TUNE!

THE END?
Edited by trevor travis on 01 May 2015 17:44:17
 
Anniew
Wow that was a romp Trevor. Exhausting but fun! Third wall breaching cross over- pretty ace!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
LOL LOL LOL Grin Grin Grin Grin

One of my favourite challenge fanfic of them all, though I suspect most of the board will be quoting Duggan and saying "can anyone join in or do you need a certificate?"

Lol again, because it's just so funny Grin
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
trevor travis
Anniew wrote:

Wow that was a romp Trevor. Exhausting but fun! Third wall breaching cross over- pretty ace!


I did wonder if I'd over-egged the pudding, in terms of the crossover.

I also hope SD forgives me for borrowing elements of his fanfics Wink
 
trevor travis
Spaceship Dispatcher wrote:

LOL LOL LOL Grin Grin Grin Grin

One of my favourite challenge fanfic of them all, though I suspect most of the board will be quoting Duggan and saying "can anyone join in or do you need a certificate?"

Lol again, because it's just so funny Grin


Phew! I'm glad you like it... Grin

I knew you'd recognise all the elements. But yes, I do think my three-way crossover (which turns into a four-way crossover in its final scene) is going to leave some people going "What????" Wink

It was a lot of fun to write this one Pfft
Edited by trevor travis on 01 May 2015 19:13:02
 
Travisina
trevor travis wrote:

Anniew wrote:

Wow that was a romp Trevor. Exhausting but fun! Third wall breaching cross over- pretty ace!


I did wonder if I'd over-egged the pudding, in terms of the crossover.

No - eggy puddings were last month - in the form of different flavoured fools!

Kudos for being first off the mark this month, TT - I can foresee this turning into a race between you and SD to see who can post first each time!
I enjoyed your romp - although a lot of it was lost on me, as I've never seen Press Gang. But there was enough silly humour to make it a fun read anyway Smile
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
trevor travis
Travisina wrote:
Kudos for being first off the mark this month, TT - I can foresee this turning into a race between you and SD to see who can post first each time!


I did cheat slightly in that most of my story was written about a week ago, and then fitted the word of the month into it Wink

But once I had the idea, I had to do it. It's inspired by SD's crossover stories, plus Anniew and PC's smashing down of the fourth wall!!
 
Ellen York
TT, that was impressive in a crazy sort of way. My favorite line is "We’re no longer part of a bad fanfic by Spaceship Dispatcher. We’re part of an even worse fanfic by someone called Trevor Travis"
 
Lurena
Oh, LOL TT! such crazy humour!
I never watched Press Gang, or what it's called, but I have read fanfic by Starship Destroyer, excuse, Spaceship Dispatcher. (Now see what you've done!)
Now I wonder what SD's answer to your story will be...

By the way, please forgive me the lack of my reactions to almost all April contributions.
Actually, I still need to read some of them.
I hadn't been visiting the forum so much, I'll try to better my life.
Lara&Sue's Blake's 7 stories
*No, I am not. I am not expendable, I'm not stupid, and I'm not going.*
 
http://lectorisalutem.webs.com/
Spaceship Dispatcher
Now I wonder what SD's answer to your story will be...

It's all planned out, I'm just waiting for time to write it Grin
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
Oh, okay then... seems, since I posted above, that I now have two more episodes based on this months challenges to write and post this afternoon.
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
meegat39
trevor travis wrote:

Spaceship Dispatcher wrote:

LOL LOL LOL Grin Grin Grin Grin

One of my favourite challenge fanfic of them all, though I suspect most of the board will be quoting Duggan and saying "can anyone join in or do you need a certificate?"

Lol again, because it's just so funny Grin


Phew! I'm glad you like it... Grin

I knew you'd recognise all the elements. But yes, I do think my three-way crossover (which turns into a four-way crossover in its final scene) is going to leave some people going "What????" Wink

It was a lot of fun to write this one Pfft


I've never watched Press Gang, but it didn't leave me going Whatt??. I really, really enjoyed it. I first started to suspect Spike was Avon when he displayed no interest in a girl. Very well done...
"If you didn't want the answer, you shouldn't have asked the question."
 
purplecleric
TT, what a glorious way to kick off May! I, too, am unfamiliar with Press Gang and stories told mainly in dialogue, especially complex ones, can be really tricky but you pulled it off admirably.

And now I've finished wiping the tears of laughter away - an exhortation:

Boys and girls, come out to play
In the merry month of May.
Take the stories out of your head,
And share them with us on this thread.
No matter the skill or the pedigree,
It’s the ideas that count as you will see.
Be it morbid, morose or a mystery
Fluffy or funny, or pure fantasy.
Five hundred words pose no limit for fans
Of an inspirational rebel band!
 
trevor travis
I think a lot of people on here would enjoy "Press Gang". It contains much of the very best writing of Steven Moffat (he wrote all 43 episodes).

Lynda Day, the editor of the Junior Gazette, is as bullying and manipulative as Blake and as smart and slightly unstable as Avon. She's an absolutely brilliant character. The writing is brilliant, and the young cast are top notch too.

I would thoroughly recommend it.
Edited by trevor travis on 02 May 2015 16:55:37
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
For all GoT fans, but especially for Paula Grin

The Next Episode

Vila was dead. One moment he had been admiring a beautiful woman in very short skirt, about to win her heart forever by being terribly chivalrous and unpicking the locks on her chains; the next moment he was crushed to death by an angry, and falling very fast, drug abusing maniac. Now he found himself lying on a bed of straw in some kind of wooden building. Raising himself onto one elbow, he looked around the hope that the pretty young woman might still be there; but she and Avon, and the man that killed him for that matter, were gone. If this were an afterlife, it was a very rustic and odorous one! Getting up from the pile of straw, Vila walked to the door and opened it slowly. The sound of voices reached him from nearby and so, edging along with his back against a rough stone wall, he made his way to where he could see the source of the merriment. A small table partially blocked his way, and upon it rested a weapon of some kind. It was a bow, but mechanical with a lethal dart already loaded and the string drawn back. Reasoning that he might need to defend himself in the absence of Avon, he picked up the bow and stepped discreetly around the corner of the wall. Beyond was a courtyard where some men and a young boy were practicing archery with conventional bows and arrows. Above them, looking down on proceedings, was an older man with a tough and rugged complexion; beside him stood a beautiful, dark haired woman. The boy missed his shot, and the young men around him laughed at his struggles.

“And which one of you was a marksman at ten?” called the older man from the gallery.

As Vila looked up, he inadvertently tightened his grip on the loaded crossbow and it leaped in his hands as the crossbow discharged. Before the man could even complete whatever statement he intended to make, the bolt pierced the centre of his chest and he crashed backwards out of sight. The woman screamed and, while attention was momentarily focused on the gallery, Vila ducked out of sight. He was in real trouble now. Vila took another look and felt the panic rise. How was he going to explain this? More importantly, would he live long enough to explain? His eyes darted about looking for somewhere to hide. The narrow passage between buildings in which he stood opened only into the wooden store hut that he had awakened inside, and then it ended in a thoroughfare; mingling with a crowd in his modern synthetic clothing was not an option, so the storage hut it had to be. Running back inside, hoping that Avon might by now have joined him, Vila ran straight into a huge man who was just leaving with a bundle of straw. That had really blown it now, thought Vila.

“Look...” said Vila, trying his best apologetic tone; “terribly sorry, it was an accident!”
“Hodor?” replied the man ambiguously.
“Yes, I mean this crossbow was left lying around loaded” said Vila; “aren’t there safety rules here?”
“Hodor?” asked the man, confused.
“It just went off in my hand” pleaded Vila, “you have to believe me!”
“Hodor” said the man.
“The trouble is...” said Vila, “I think he’s dead! Some old guy, up on a wooden gallery?”
“Hodor!” cried the man, alarmed by the implications of Vila’s statement.
“And the other trouble is...” explained Vila, “that, if he is dead, they’re going to want to kill me too!”
“Hodor!” agreed the man, nodding vigorously and ceasing Vila’s left arm in a tight grip.
“Let me go!” shouted Vila, realising that he was about to be turned in; “please! I have a friend!”
“Hodor?” asked the man, suspiciously.
“Yes!” said Vila; “look, he can explain everything! But you have to let me go and find him!”
“Hodor” said the man, firmly shaking his head.
“Please help me...” implored Vila; “my name is Vila... what’s your name?”
“Hodor” said Hodor, smiling warmly but further tightening his grip on Vila.
“Let him go...” said a cold voice from the door. It was Avon, holding a Liberator gun.
“At last!” snapped Vila; “Look, Avon... I think I just murdered somebody!”
“With that?” asked Avon, taking in the crossbow with a single glance.
“Hodor?” asked Hodor.
“Oh...” said Avon to the man; “are you still here?”

Avon aimed the gun at a metal dish of some kind that hung from a beam and fired. The energy bolt exploded off the metallic surface in a dazzling pyrotechnic display. The man ran from the storehouse and towards the courtyard, terrified out of his wits.

“Hodor! Hodor! Hodor!” shouted the man as he ran away.
“Avon!” demanded Vila; “I need an explanation! One moment I’m dead, and then I’m here! And then you’re here! It’s like the dying thing still happened, but now it didn’t happen too. I’m confused...”
“That’s unusual...” retorted Avon, taking a small remote device from his pocket.
“What’s that?” asked Vila.
“This...” explained Avon, “is called a Moff-a-Matic and I bought from the man who stole it...”
“And what was his name?” asked Vila, “this master thief who saved my life without knowing?”
“He was an off world trader” said Avon, “and only went by the name Russ the T...”
“I must thank him when we get back to our own universe!” said Vila; “do you have the box?”
“You mean the Pan Genre Transition Machine?” asked Avon; “Yes, shall we go?”
With that, Avon pressed the red button and both he and Vila vanished from existence.

*****

Back in the courtyard, the woman on the gallery had just shouted that her husband was dead a whole season early when Hodor burst onto the scene and (naturally) shouted “Hodor!”
“The killer is through there!” shouted Robb, one of the young men from the archery session.
“You must find them!” shouted his mother from the gallery; “George has spent twenty years writing the first four volumes and now he must start again! He will have a terrible death planned for whoever has done this terrible thing!”
“Yes, but...” asked Robb, “can’t he just write them again, without father? It’s not like he was in many of them anyway!”
“Winter is coming!” screamed Caitlin from the gallery; “he doesn’t have time to write them again!”
“Okay Mother” said Robb, “we’ll go and hunt down the murderer! Come on Theon!”
“Who is Theon?” asked Theon; “I’m only Reek...”
“Don’t be stupid!” snorted a little girl, Robb’s sister Arya, as she pushed between them and picked up a bow and arrows; “we haven’t reached that bit yet, idiot. But anyway, this is probably a good thing because now I don’t have to spend two series with The Hound...”

*****

“Hey” said the young Scottish redhead as she forlornly twisted and tugged the manacles that held her against the dungeon wall; “where did those two guys go? Doctor? Rory! Is there anyone here now?”
Edited by Spaceship Dispatcher on 03 May 2015 07:33:40
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
Especially for trevor travis, and apologies to anyone less familiar with the Who-niverse Grin

The episode after the last one

Avon and Vila materialised together, still holding the box that had transported them to this new place. They looked around at themselves, but all they could see was grey. Vila broke the silence.

“Look at all this mist” he said, “I can’t see anything at all!”
“Then why tell me to look at it?” growled Avon, shaking the box.
“Stop!” cried Vila; “don’t do that, you might break it!”
“Well now...” said Avon, “it hasn’t exactly worked for us so far, has it?”
“But where are we?” asked Vila; “why all this grey everywhere?”

Around them were grey rocks beneath a grey sky; or at least, what Vila took to be a sky since the whole world was the same colour. From behind them came a cough, and a man stepped out from behind a grey rock. He was elderly and wore a black frock coat, but was followed by two young people in brighter and more fashionable attire. Or it should have been brighter, except that their clothes too were grey. Not only their clothes, but the three new arrivals were also grey. Vila looked down at his hand in sudden panic and realised that he too was grey. Startled, he looked into the eyes of the older man for an explanation.

“Dear, dear...” muttered the elderly man, “you seem troubled by our new... erm, ah... your new surroundings young man! Now let me see that box you’re holding!”
“Well, I...” began Avon, frowning as the old man snatched the Pan Genre Transition Machine from his hands; “actually, I would prefer it if you just...”
“Rubbish!” shouted the old man over the top of Avon’s protest; “you obviously did not plan to arrive here, and this box was to blame so you need me to fix it don’t you, hmm..?”
“Can you?” asked Avon dubiously, reaching out to take the box back as the man started to shake it violently despite the fact that he himself had done so only moments before.
“Probably...” mumbled the old man as he turned his back on Avon.
“But can you explain” began Vila; “why everything here is grey? You, me... everything!”
“Well of course it is!” snapped the old man; “you have landed in a universe where the only colours are black and white, so colours... ah, every other colour you see has to be made up from those!”
“But what happened to blue or green?” asked Vila; “and red? What happened to red? That was the subject of the word prompt only about two months ago!”
“You see...” explained the younger man who had so far been silent; “they don’t exist here. Not yet anyway, or so the Doctor says. All matter in this universe is grey! Quite awkward actually, because whatever Dodo wears turns out to be grey as well and I still have to say she looks good in it...”
“Hey, Steven!” indignantly cried the young woman who stood beside him.
“Sorry Dodo” apologised Steven, then “Doctor, shouldn’t we get to the Crater? The battle must...”
“Of course!” exclaimed the Doctor; “why didn’t you remind me, dear boy, hmm..? Yes, indeed. And the two of you must come along too!”
“What’s going on?” asked Vila
“This planet is under attack from the worst monsters in the entire universe!” said the Doctor.
“The worst monsters?” asked Vila; “I’m not sure about this! You mean they’re the most dangerous, evil, ruthless, efficient race of deadly aliens in the universe?”
“No, no...” replied the Doctor; “they’re just the worst monsters. Come along, the Crater of Needles is this way!”

The Doctor led Avon, Vila, Steven and Dodo around a large rock three or four times (but always in a different direction) until they arrived at the crater. Below them was an incredible sight, as the combatants prepared for battle. On the left of the crater were half a dozen magnificent butterflies each the size of a man, and roughly the same number of equally huge and impressive creatures that resembled ants on Earth but which stood upright on two legs. The Doctor explained that many hundreds more of the creatures waited for the battle, just out of sight. Advancing on this army from the opposite side of the crater were a small group of creatures that were half man and half bull, wearing platform boots and glittery skirts, who carefully placed on the ground four boxes bearing massive cones. The Doctor pointed to the cones and explained that they were speakers, and an important part of the Nimon gambit on the planet Vortis. Seconds later, the steady beat of music began to emanate from the speakers and the Nimon began to dance. As they jived and spun around and pointed at the sky, the defending army simply stood and looked at each other in bemusement. Taken off guard by the Nimon’s confusion tactics, the ants and butterflies scurried out of the way as bolts of energy blew huge chucks of polystyrene into the air. Refocused, the butterfly-like Menoptra organised the ranks and sent forward the first wave of venom grubs. The insects, each the length of a man’s arm and scurrying on hundreds of tiny legs hidden beneath a defensive carapace, surrounded the Nimon and began cutting them down. Vila watched on in amazement, nudging Avon awake as the ant-like Zarbi capitalised on the advantage and charged into the fray.

“Look down there!” cried Vila, pointing down below them; “did you see that? One of those ants just knocked that cameraman right over!”

The battle did not last for long and, with the Nimon completely routed, the Menoptra gathered to prepare some lengthy victory speeches. The Doctor smiled at Avon and Vila, and then waved to two new arrivals that bounded up to join the party. They were mere children, a boy and a girl.

“Ah... Ava and Vilon!” said the Doctor; “meet my grandchildren, John and Gillian!”
“Where did they come from?” asked Vila; “no, actually don’t answer that. Watching the most inept invasion by the worst monsters in the universe has given me a headache”
“Well, my dears...” said the Doctor to the children; “what have you found?”
“Crayons!” shouted John and Gillian, throwing dozens of them on the ground. Gillian picked up a blue crayon and began waving it in the air above her head. Incredibly, the sky started turning blue! She turned to her brother and, grabbing two yellow crayons from the floor, shouted “come on John, let’s go and colour in some Menoptra!”
“Get us out of here...” groaned Vila.
“Not a moment too soon” agreed Avon, taking the box back from the Doctor and hitting the button.

*****

“Are you guys coming back or what?” shouted Amy at the empty dungeon where Avon and Vila were no longer standing; “I can’t wait here all day for you!”

They didn’t, she did.
Edited by Spaceship Dispatcher on 03 May 2015 07:32:43
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

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trevor travis
Oh, and any continuity errors in my story (such as why Avon says he and Vila are crewmates from the Liberator, and yet Vila makes several references to Season D) are not actually continuity errors. They are down to the Pan Author Matter Machine. It's a tricky beast Wink

EDIT: Ah, I've got some SD stories to read Grin Grin
Edited by trevor travis on 02 May 2015 17:12:52
 
trevor travis
Spaceship Dispatcher wrote:“Are you guys coming back or what?” shouted Amy at the empty dungeon where Avon and Vila were no longer standing; “I can’t wait here all day for you!”

They didn’t, she did.


Hahahaha Grin Grin Grin Grin Grin

Love the story SD (in particular, the fact it takes place in black & white), although I think I might have to have the Nimon (aided by cousin Og, of course) take revenge at some point Wink
 
Anniew
Those are extremely clever and funny chapters SD. I loved the grey universe and the sideways visit to Game of Thrones. And you write them so quickly! Truly amazing.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
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