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An answer to this meme:
Give me two characters from different fandoms you know I'm familiar with, and I'll give you a dialogue happening between the two of them. Without justifying how the crossover would work, how their worlds clashed, or how they could even meet each other. Just a silly crossover conversation with no backstory, for fun.
Doctor (#2) and Doctor McCoy, duking it out.
There was silence from both ends of the workstation. Relative silence, anyway - odd-colored liquids in flasks bubbled away frantically, computers beeped to themselves in their own odd mechanical languages, and there were the constant sounds of the ship - the great warp engines thrumming away, the hiss of air coming through the vents, the whisssh of doors and the faint rattle of a hidden away bottle in it's hiding spot in the bottom left-hand drawer of the desk in the office.
"This isn't," The man in blue drawled, his accent strengthened by sheer incredulity, "Goin' to work. Not by a long stretch. If you want to blow your damn fool self to kingdom come, that's your own business, but I'd take it kindly if you didn't take the rest of us with you."
"Nonsense!" The short, dark haired man in an odd raggedy black suit replied, clearly on the upswing of what McCoy had taken to referring as the strange alien's 'manic' phase. It really shouldn't be him working in this lab at all, McCoy was sure - Spock (he's not ashamed to admit, in the privacy in his own mind) is better at these sort of esoteric sciences, the sort only bored scholars with nothing else to do poke at to give their brains a bit of exercise. Suddenly, it seems, these impractical formulations and theories had become essential to their continued survival. These theories, and the strange British-sounding alien in odd clothes and with even odder habits. However, since it is generally best if the Science Officer doesn't kill off their only hope, so it has been left to McCoy to deal with him.
And here he was, thinking that green blooded-elf didn't have a vindictive streak. He does, and it's a mile long if it's an inch.
"Now, if you would just listen..."
"If you would just stop trying to kill us all..."
"That is not fair, I have been trying..."
"To kill us, I can see that. You seem to be working very hard at it." McCoy's sarcastic edge snaps across the workbench, making the odd little man scowl.
"Doctor McCoy, I do believe you are the most obstinate human I've ever had to work with." The reprimand would be a bit more scathing, perhaps, if it didn't sound a bit petulant. Absently the strange alien reaches into his pocket and pulls out... is that a flute? At least the little man can play a decent tune, whatever that thing is. After a few moments he stops, still scowling.
"I don't know why you are being so resistant, the solution is quite elegant." He grumbles, pointing at his equations with his odd musical instrument.
"For the first few seconds, sure, and then we get blown up! That's a fine solution, sure." McCoy grumbles back. What he wasn't expecting, however, was laughter.
Soft, delighted chuckles like a tutor amused at a very young student's obvious mistake.
"Seconds are an eternity, when you know the right people. That is more than enough time."
McCoy blinks at the alien for a long moment.
Right.
Time Lord.
Whatever that means.
"And when am I supposed to yell at you if it isn't long enough?" He asks, a little disgruntled. The Doctor, terribly pleased with himself, doesn't answer, playing a jaunty little tune.
Anyone else who wants to give me a challenge, go ahead! :D
Give me two characters from different fandoms you know I'm familiar with, and I'll give you a dialogue happening between the two of them. Without justifying how the crossover would work, how their worlds clashed, or how they could even meet each other. Just a silly crossover conversation with no backstory, for fun.
Doctor (#2) and Doctor McCoy, duking it out.
There was silence from both ends of the workstation. Relative silence, anyway - odd-colored liquids in flasks bubbled away frantically, computers beeped to themselves in their own odd mechanical languages, and there were the constant sounds of the ship - the great warp engines thrumming away, the hiss of air coming through the vents, the whisssh of doors and the faint rattle of a hidden away bottle in it's hiding spot in the bottom left-hand drawer of the desk in the office.
"This isn't," The man in blue drawled, his accent strengthened by sheer incredulity, "Goin' to work. Not by a long stretch. If you want to blow your damn fool self to kingdom come, that's your own business, but I'd take it kindly if you didn't take the rest of us with you."
"Nonsense!" The short, dark haired man in an odd raggedy black suit replied, clearly on the upswing of what McCoy had taken to referring as the strange alien's 'manic' phase. It really shouldn't be him working in this lab at all, McCoy was sure - Spock (he's not ashamed to admit, in the privacy in his own mind) is better at these sort of esoteric sciences, the sort only bored scholars with nothing else to do poke at to give their brains a bit of exercise. Suddenly, it seems, these impractical formulations and theories had become essential to their continued survival. These theories, and the strange British-sounding alien in odd clothes and with even odder habits. However, since it is generally best if the Science Officer doesn't kill off their only hope, so it has been left to McCoy to deal with him.
And here he was, thinking that green blooded-elf didn't have a vindictive streak. He does, and it's a mile long if it's an inch.
"Now, if you would just listen..."
"If you would just stop trying to kill us all..."
"That is not fair, I have been trying..."
"To kill us, I can see that. You seem to be working very hard at it." McCoy's sarcastic edge snaps across the workbench, making the odd little man scowl.
"Doctor McCoy, I do believe you are the most obstinate human I've ever had to work with." The reprimand would be a bit more scathing, perhaps, if it didn't sound a bit petulant. Absently the strange alien reaches into his pocket and pulls out... is that a flute? At least the little man can play a decent tune, whatever that thing is. After a few moments he stops, still scowling.
"I don't know why you are being so resistant, the solution is quite elegant." He grumbles, pointing at his equations with his odd musical instrument.
"For the first few seconds, sure, and then we get blown up! That's a fine solution, sure." McCoy grumbles back. What he wasn't expecting, however, was laughter.
Soft, delighted chuckles like a tutor amused at a very young student's obvious mistake.
"Seconds are an eternity, when you know the right people. That is more than enough time."
McCoy blinks at the alien for a long moment.
Right.
Time Lord.
Whatever that means.
"And when am I supposed to yell at you if it isn't long enough?" He asks, a little disgruntled. The Doctor, terribly pleased with himself, doesn't answer, playing a jaunty little tune.
Anyone else who wants to give me a challenge, go ahead! :D
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*lots*