01; It seems it's written [But we can't read between the lines.]

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[The Master appears on the Plane, looking disheveled wearing a black hoodie, red shirt peeking out from beneath it, his black trousers covered in places with slate-grey dirt and his black boots dirty; tracking in dirt. He's filthy, not that he seems to mind this as he tracks dirt in behind him, somewhat perturbed by the sudden change from the shop he'd been in moments earlier.]

Ohh, what a nifty little trick that was. [He looks around, tongue flicking out to wet his dry lips.] Come on then, who's playing the tricks and pulling the strings?

[He stops to turn a half circle before running a hand through hastily done and now blonde hair, making it stand up in small tufts.] I only want to say hello.

[He looks at the star formations and patterns, giving a half smile.] Eye-catching and completely wrong but I like it. Bit of chaos is fun.

[Looking down at one hand, he felt the pain linger and the telltale almost numb sensation before it phased out, showing blue like an x-ray then nothing and then it was his hand again. He scowls.] Who is doing this? I don't exactly care to be kept waiting. Is it those twins? Is this you? I wasn't really going to try and eat you.

[The Master is such a liar and really, very hungry at the moment. He takes a breath in deep through his nose, trying to find something or someone nearby that could make a lovely little snack.]

I can still smell that human Christmas. All that food and I want it. [He stalks around the plane, ignoring the would be wondrous sights and toppling a nearby table and chair. His hands go to his head, clutching briefly.] It's mine. I am so hungry.

[Approach at your own risk. And please, for the love of all that is holy, feed the Time Lord unless you'd rather be his stand in snack replacement.]

Comments

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

[Guess who conveniently has a burger and chips and was just looking for a place to eat said snack? This guy right here. He stops however, when he sees the Master. It's been known that people in the universe look like others, but he has a general gut instinct this is still the Master despite...well...everything. Of all the things he could possibly say right now, the only one that comes out is]

...you're...blond? Really?

[and head tilt of...really? Although the hungry gets his attention, and he looks at his food, and he was hungry, but not THAT hungry, so he wordlessly offers up the chips at least]

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[Oh, he can guess who it is but said person also has the Master's eyes narrowing as he takes a step back. The Doctor! He breathes in, instinctually, and recoils slightly, a disgusted look flitting across his face. No, not the Doctor. Very much not the Doctor but something of him there still. Interesting.]

It's a disguise. [Don't dis the blond locks, not-Doctor.] What about you? What's this? You're all wrong.

[The Master stalks closer to him, eyeing him curiously, breathing deep again. Time Lord, yes, but something else. Something terran, something human-ugh. His lips curl in disgust briefly before he spies the offered chips. Those get snatched and he grabs a great handful, shoving it into his mouth with no attempt to be neat or clean about things, chewing immediately but not much before he swallows.]

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

It's a bit...adolescent, don't you think?

[and he crosses his arms over his chest, giving this Master a bit of a glare, because...yeah, that's not nice. He sniffs sharply, eyes still on the Master]

Ever hear that bit about people in glass houses?

[he's startled by the grabbing, and then scrunches his face. Table manners, Master!]

Oi, you could say thank you, or at least chew a bit before you swallow. Suppose the peroxide somehow led to a loss of basic manners as well then?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[hey, hey guess what? Guess who it is?]

Master?

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[The Master's eyes widen almost imperceptibly and he breathes deep. That's him, properly him, the Doctor. Then his eyes narrow and he keeps his distance. He's hungry but he isn't about to get stupid and captured, much less by the likes of him.]

Doctor. [The grin that splits his face is manic, utterly insane and he laughs. Oh, they always find each other again, don't they?]

[cosmic-engineer.livejournal.com]

[Omega, sadly, has no food with him. When he catches sight of this Master, however, he looks supremely disdainful, and automatically assumes it's the Master he is used to.]

Does your latest plan to resurrect Gallifrey involve rolling in the dirt?

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[How very strange. Familiar face but that scent, no, what is that? He eyes him, keeping his distance. Gallifrey. Plans. Oh, those are good ideas. Food is also a good idea. Food takes priority over plans and he's losing what patience he still possesses.]

No plans. I want food.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

[Someone cannot help but stare, hardly bothering to mask her distaste over the scene before her. She reaches to smooth the lines of her gown, as if to point out precisely how important appearances are]

Truly, this is not amusing.

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[Oh and that's different. Her scent is almost sort of..calming but just on the outer edge. She carries herself well, he can appreciate that, for a few moments anyways. He sees that straightening, snorts, and makes a show of flicking a bit of dried mud off a sleeve and onto the floor. Better?]

Neither is the lack of food, but pointing out the obvious clearly doesn't get either of us anywhere quickly.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[The Master would be remiss not to recognize himself]

Oh.

Oh, damn.

Who interfered with the resurrection, then? Come on, self! I'll show you the kitchen. It restocks itself and that's going to be a top prize in your case.

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[Indeed! He does recognize himself, naturally, even if he is a bit tickled at the difference in attire. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, in this one's case. He is curious though, so many people and ..doubles apparently. Food overrides curiousity though and so it must come first.]

Kitchen. [He licks his lips at the thought. Food. Lots of it and Self said it restocks itself. He likes that idea and so, follows!]

Sweet Lucy. [It's said with a sneer.]

[heartscastaside.livejournal.com]

Ohh, how sad there's so little food to be found here, then. And it seems that you might be in dire need of it.

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

Little doesn't mean there isn't any at all. [The Master sniffs and then cants his head, confused. Nothing. There should be something there but there isn't. How frustrating.]

Do you know where it's being kept?

[madamemoiselle.livejournal.com]

Goodness, the Twins are certainly taunting me well. Another Master, and this one isn't even right.

{She tilts her head slightly} You're not even charming. What a disappointment.

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

Twins? Are they behind all of this then? [And no, he may not be 'right' as she puts it but he doesn't care to have that pointed out plain as day. He breathes in deep, catching her scent and noting the ones that don't quite seem to fit, or maybe they do.]

If that's how you normally greet people, has anyone tried to kill you because of it yet?

[OOC: ah gotcha! Thanks for that!]

[collector]

[The expression on his face is a cross between indifference and mild disdain]

Lovely. Should I put on the Stravinsky?

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[His is one bordering on agitation.]

Put on whatever you like. [He'll be looking for food because that hunger doesn't just go away on it's own.]

[tastefulfashion.livejournal.com]

[ It was only a matter of time, in a manner of speaking. Multiple Time Lords is something only residents of the plane would consider to be normal. And this particular Time Lord is observing with a seemingly neutral expression, but she certainly isn't happy either. ]

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[He turns and sees her, breathing in deep to be certain--Then he laughs and hard. Oh, it kept getting better and better.]

You seem so utterly pleased.

[not-theman-iwas.livejournal.com]

[....

Well, this is disturb on a number of levels. Hello, Master. The Doctor is much less sloppily-dressed than you! Congratulations.]

-There's a kitchen.

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[If his ears could perk up, they would have. He stalks over to her, breathing in, and oh-that's odd.]

Mind being more specific as to where, exactly?

[charmandsmiles.livejournal.com]

[pulls a banana out of his pocket and chucks it at him] Blimey, what happened to you? Think you're taking the cockroach metaphor to a whole new level. Not to mention the bit where you've completely lost the right to poke fun at my hair. [or lack thereof]

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[Oh he knows you, well not KNOWS knows but close enough. He's seen pictures and video and all sorts of interesting things on him. Never a proper face to face.]

You don't have any to poke fun at. [But he catches the banana, turning it over in his hand a moment and eyeing the Doctor. This Doctor-whatever. He bites into the fruit, peel and all still attached and smiles, mouth full. He has food!]

[shatteredqueen.livejournal.com]

[this can't end well]

Harry...?

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

[The Master's head snaps in her direction when he hears her voice. What was this? Nonono, she died. She got obliterated with the rest of Broadfell because of her ignorant, meddling ways, playing with things she didn't honestly understand. He squares his shoulders, unsure of how to approach her and breathes in, trying to catch what's different, if anything.]

That's not my name.