realityshifted | 03; It is a lovely thing the animal [The animal instinct]

[Guess who is back on the Plane again after being gone for a while? The Master has already seen the Twins and he's taken an egg away from all of that. He has also successfully left the Plane with it and come back a few times.

This time he is emptying his pockets.

He dumps out broken radio bits, a few damaged cell phones, odds and ends of wires and a mostly there pocket tool kit. What he pulls out of his hoodie pocket is the small something from the Twins.]

You can be for later. Lucky I'm not hungry just yet.

[Despite his threats to an egg that hasn't hatched yet with a cruel death by frying pan, he might seem a bit more in control of himself than other times he's shown up. That's cause the drums in his head aren't as bad as they were ~~thanks to Nine~~ and he's been able to focus on other things. Like fixing this faulty regeneration business. And eating. Lots of eating.

He takes a seat where he is to peruse the bits and bobs he's collected and classify them for usefulness. If he sets the egg in a fold of his hooded sweatshirt, it is not for its own safe keeping. It is for easy access should he wind up with a craving, that is all.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If it does happen, you should find a way to record it. Show it to any new ones he might decide to pick up.

[The crack gets bigger, the eggs still shakes and the space where the crack first began flakes off to reveal a tiny, black claw. A few moments later, the crack widens and the egg splits and splinters to reveal a tiny cheetah cub (http://i29.tinypic.com/2v2ibno.jpg). It immediately begins to mew and the Master simply stares.]

Someone or something has a disturbing sense of humor.

[OOC: *facepalms* the typo demons are after me today.]

Edited 2010-07-26 20:47 (UTC)

[The Master looks at it, eyebrows reflexively lifted.] How...

[He's sure there's a word to describe it somewhere. An apt word, though 'apt' is not the right word.[

[He'll think of it later.]

[He's still watching it but he reaches down with his free hand to move the tools out of the way. The only one that gets picked up is the laser screwdriver because he isn't about to shove that away haphazardly. He offers it back to his self before setting the cub down in the cleared space.]

It would have to be bigger. [A piece of its shell falls down in its way as it attempts to walk around and gets batted at for its troubles.]

But at the least it could possibly eat one of your Doctor's pets, yes?

[The Master takes his screwdriver back. The cub is very... fuzzy. He forgot how fuzzy they were, which you'd think would be quite difficult, given how long he spent around them.]

Give him a few years and we can have him tearing their throats out.

[The mental image of the carnage, perhaps not the cub itself, brings a smile to his face. The batting of the shell didn't do much, so when the cub attempts to try to walk it's stepped on, it sways, not having quite found its balance yet and flops over onto its side.]

Hm, at the very least find something atrocious of the Doctor's to shred. [Which puts practically everything in danger.]

Hold on, I've got a fantastic idea. [The Master disappears, returning very quickly with one of the Sixth Doctor's vests.] We can train it to tear up this sort of thing. Attack on sight.

[After, he can train it to hate celery!]

[If there's a twinkle in his eyes it's simply glee at the thought of this.]

Ooh, good one. [He shifts into a half crouch to help the cub get settled back onto its feet.] We're going to play a game.

[Celery all across the cosmos will tremble with fear.]

[Self is politely not acknowledging that self seems to have developed a weakness for the cute and fluffy thing. Self has a long list of things he is politely ignoring about self. Because this self still has manners.]

[Oh that note, he sits down to the side to observe self's new maternal instinct at work. It is far better company than the TARDIS.]

[Perhaps they'll get to fixing those things at some point. Self has a list of his own and we're not sure manner go on it. He's still partly annoyed and at the same time extremely amused by this whole situation. Clearly he is not as stable as his other but that is nothing new. He is slowly trying to get better.]

[Latent animal instinct perhaps? Everyone is convinced on the maternal though.]

Tear off a piece to start? [The cub, so far, is perfectly oblivious as it wobbles around between the two of them.]

Should we wait until it can walk straight?

That will be weeks from now.

Unless it's a mutant cheetah. Given that it came out of an egg, that seems half-likely.

Good point. [He moves to pick it up and stands himself.] It needs food.

[Which is totally NOT maternal. It is practical. They can't teach it or train it or find out if it is some sort of mutant if it starves to death.]

[hopping to his feet] Kitchen? Or the first Doctor we stumble across, whichever comes first.

That sounds fair. Give him a taste for their blood early on. [Not wanting to cradle the cub leaves him few options. Pocket or shoulder. Since it is so wobbly, he opts for his pocket to carry it around in.

Let the kitchen trek begin!]

03; It is a lovely thing the animal [The animal instinct]

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