http://best-served-hot.livejournal.com/ (
best-served-hot.livejournal.com) wrote in
realityshifted2011-11-02 08:10 pm
Entry tags:
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.]
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.]
