realityshifted | 09; disarm him control them [and take the universe]

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doctor who (d1) the master - simm

09; disarm him control them [and take the universe]

[The Master has been absent as of late, convergences, and a thirst for revenge will distract one from something like the Plane. In the interim, he has been chased by the Doctor, captured by some fantastically stupid, stunted, little apes, killed a number of them, and, well, the rest will come to light for the curious later.]

A bright and glorious day, isn't it?

[He walks a few steps, twirling the Rod of Rassilon in lazy circles with his right hand, before bringing it down on the floor with a sharp crack. From a distance, his appearance would seem immaculate, but a closer inspection would find him spattered with blood. An awful lot of blood. Most of it is hidden by his suit jacket, but the white collar of his shirt is speckled with the contrast of the dark stain, along with the skin of his neck. A few spots sit high on his right cheek, not to mention the spatter still drying on each of his hands.]

I would wring my hands, thinking I might have missed something terribly exciting here, but then that would diminish the fabulous time I've been having on my own! I don't think I've felt this young in centuries, there's nothing like a smashing good time to lift one's spirits.

[He kicks the bottom of the staff, vaulting it up only to catch it, as he heads towards the bar to procure himself a drink. He gets something bright and not his usual (after all it is a celebration), and even finds a colored umbrella to put in it. Clearly, he's on top of the world, and that must have meant someone else had a hell of a day.]

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You seem like an awfully cheerful bloke for being covered in blood.

[He offers a wide smile, one reminiscent of a cat that just managed to get the canary, and the cream in one go. Consider this his basking in a warm spot of sunlight after.]

The past few days have been fairly productive for me to say the least.

......

[He eyes this guy, trying to pinpoint exactly what he is. And of course he finds he can't.]

Are you some sort of demon then?

[He raises a brow at that, then chuckles.]

No, certainly not.

Oh... Then what are you and why exactly are you covered in what I presume to be other people's blood?

I am the Master. [Which is clearly all you need to know. He takes a moment to look down at himself, but remains undisturbed by it.]

One person's, actually, the rest burned. [Even if that was not by his hand.]

...... Are you trying to bring about the apocalypse or something on your world?

On my world? They've already had their version of it, I would think. If you're going for the whole fire and brimstone raining down from the heavens, that is.

You weren't the cause of it, were you?

[He folds his arms over his chest. Even though it's been 25 years since the Great War between Heaven and Hell destroyed all life on his Earth, it's still a very raw subject for the demon. To say that this conversation is making him uncomfortable is a bit of an understatement.]

Hardly. Though I can't possibly see how it would matter to you even if I was.

I suppose technically it doesn't. I'm not of your world. But I've experienced Armageddon. It's not something I would wish on other people.

They had it coming.

[Not that he really feels the need to justify himself. He would just rather avoid a conversation about the nature of right and wrong and so on. It will ruin his mood.]

[Crowley's experience on discussing "right" and "wrong" is rather... Lengthy. 6,000 years lengthy, actually. Typically he would defend and uphold "wrong" whereas Aziraphale, an angel he conversed with frequently throughout the ages, would stick up for "right". Crowley is well aware of moral grey areas. He's also well aware that he and Aziraphale fall into that grey area with ease and sometimes find themselves defending the other "side". Like now.]

Deserved it? How? By being rotten little scoundrels that seemed to be driving themselves to it?

[flatly] By coming to a decision as a people that the universe should be destroyed to win a War, and that only they should rise above all the rest as creatures of consciousness alone.

....

The universe, huh? I'm starting to think we might be talking about different beings.

I've suspected that very same thing for some time now. What are you?

Me? I'm a demon. Yourself?

How nice. [He smiles.] I am a Time Lord.

A what now?

A Time Lord. [The fact that he's repeated himself is a testament to the wonderful mood he's in.]

Or, we could use this term: alien. That should clear it up a bit for you.

Oh... Is the name rather explanatory? Does your kind muck about with time?

They liked to pretend that they did. Honestly, all they did was stand around and watch the universe circle the drain. Once in a while they might send someone out to tweak something, but for the most part nothing. [And on cue, his very best important newsflash face.] Sworn only to watch, never to interfere.

[He takes another sip of his drink.] Well, until the neighborhood really set into a steep decline.

.... Brilliant.

Well, I suppose that's how it always is. If you want things done, you have to do it yourself and not rely on the powers that be to do it for you.

Their idea of "doing it themselves" was a wacky idea that our species should ascend to a state of consciousness alone, and the rest of the universe could be destroyed as the Time Vortex tore itself apart.

I don't much care for a weird sort of mass suicide that involves me existing outside of the constraints of time with the rest of the family and nothing to do. That, and I had a few harsh words with the former Lord President and his meddling.

We would have never got on for all of eternity. Somebody's head was bound to get smashed in. [Literally, in this case.]

... I don't get along much with my "family" either. I'd rather they all burn in the pits than see them again.

[sadly, he doesn't hear what the Master has said--and it's probably a good thing he didn't. unfortunately, he can't unsee that staff, not after having seen it himself recently. so, he marches on over to him, being sure not to get in range of it]

Where did you get--no, no, no, no. When did you get that? [his eyes widen slightly] Ohhh, you didn't. You're going to say you did, aren't you?

[The Master watches his approach, beginning to twirl the staff in one hand again, and takes a sip of his drink, a wild grin on his face.]

Ding dong, the witch is dead!

[it's as the Master speaks that the smell of the blood finally hits the Doctor's nose, forcing him to visibly reel away]

So you didn't even listen to me?!

[really, he's far more insulted by this than he ought to be]

[He brings the staff back down, sharply and suddenly. He isn't smiling, but that wild, manic gleam is still in his eyes. He steps closer to the Doctor.]

Oh, I listened. I listened quite well, but it just didn't seem fair that we couldn't all have a proper get together once more while we had the opportunity. The convergence was already happening for me, remember? I simply allowed it to continue on its course. [He leans back enough to set his drink on the bar, and reaches into his trouser pocket to grasp at the diamond tucked safely away.]

I said they would send something to amplify the link, and they did.

[He pulls the diamond from his pocket, and holds it out, his hand still stained with blood, for the Doctor to see.]

[he frowns, really not thrilled by any of this.] Oh, I remember, but just because there was a convergence, it didn't mean you had to acknowledge it!

[but he falls silent when he sees that.] A white point star... [he looks between it and the Master] Do you think I...?

And that would have just been boring. Rassilon paid for what he did, and I sent the rest of our people back to burn at your hands. [The infernal noise is still in his mind, but there is not much he can do about it. Now that the convergence has passed, it has lessened, but it will never really go away for him. Perhaps now, it will be easier to deal with.]

Oh, go on then. [He's feeling very generous at the moment.]

[that mention of his actions might have stung like the bad memory it is, but it's lost some of its power over him. he walks forward, gently taking the diamond from the Master's hand. he's silent as he inspects it, turning it over in his hand, and then just watching the light catch its edges]

Well, one could argue being burnt like that was enough, but in this case... [he pulls a face] I still don't like it, nor do I condone what you did. [however, he says it in such a way that as his words just hang there, other unspoken words are left dangling in the silence with them.]

[after a moment, he holds the diamond back out to him] Here. You've earned it. [though he knows it won't even come close to making up for what was done to him]

[Even though he is secure in his victory, what the Doctor says reminds him of what his own said while pleading with him to stop, and his eyes narrow sharply once more.] Not in our dear Founder's case, I don't think.

[He does not move to take the diamond from him, but he does pick up his glass once more, watching the Doctor carefully.] Keep it.

[He takes another sip from his drink.] Leaving some things unnamed, if not for an unfortunate visit from an old friend of ours, and your knowledge of our people's last days, I might not have known how far they would have gone.

[He smiles, a predatory gleam in his eyes.] I would hate for you to go along the unfortunate line of thinking that I owe you anything.

[And that will probably be the closest you will ever get to a 'thank you'.]

Edited 2011-11-06 22:41 (UTC)

[he says nothing more about Rassilon, instead just looking at the diamond again. he's unsure if he wants it if he's really honest with himself, but...maybe he can find a way to put it to some good use, so he slips it into his pocket for the time being.]

Me? Nah. I know better. [pulls a face as he heads around the back of the bar. there, he grabs a towel and wets it with warm water then tosses it at the Master] Here, might want this. Got a bit of red on you.

[And that smug face? It may have got worse from hearing that. Having faster reflexes is also a plus, he returns his drink to the bar, and catches the towel with his newly freed hand. He turns the towel over in his hand a moment, and sets it away.]

I'm more than aware, Doctor. [For emphasis, have him wiggling his fingers in your general direction.]

[he makes a face in return, though really, he did expect an answer like that if he admits it to himself. he sighs, leaning against the back of the bar, just watching the Master for a moment before he speaks]

So, do you still hear them at all?

[If there is a slight flicker of annoyance at that question that creeps into his features and threatens to undo his happy disposition, he doesn't mention it.]

There is very little I can do about that.

[ah, he sees he's struck a nerve. he takes that as a 'yes']

Aside from auditioning guitar and bass players, as well as a vocalist?

How witty. Did you come up with that all on your own?

I pride myself on creating many of the classic jokes that I'll never get credit for, as well as banana daiquiris hundreds of years before they were supposed to be invented--which I'll also never get credit for--so in short, yes. And would I tell it again? Oh yes!

[he can't help grinning.]

And of course all of that is only done out of the goodness of your hearts. [He looks back at the staff he's still holding on to.]

You should have seen his face. [A slow, wide grin creeps across his face at the memory.]

And your other's.

[okay, that gets his attention] I was there? And he didn't--[but he stops that train of thought. of course he'd be there. why wouldn't he be?]

Now, see, I did put a word to your antics some time ago, and you argued rather vehemently. So, I'll submit it again.

Predictable.

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09; disarm him control them [and take the universe]

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