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(wastedlands) KIDNAPPED
Mar. 30th, 2008 01:43 amCharacters: Master, Tenth Doctor [closed]
Rating: PG-13. Time Lords don't swear, and they certainly never shag. Nope. Not ever.
Date: After this.
Location: Some crazy sort of satanic grotto.
The sensation of being carried, limbs dangling over the edge. Canoeing on Loch Lomond with Lucy, his first time in a long time on a boat of any kind. Fingers trailing in the water, eyes closed.
Fog rolling in.
Darkness and cold seeping through, penetrating, spiraling on the edge of nothing. The pain of being ripped apart seemed to take forever.
And he's there, watching it all happen. Making it happen.
Being laid out, arranged, prepared, by those hands, the long slender fingers. Paralyzed. Cold. Deep within, forcing a pressure differential, trying to scream. Hovering around the edge, the smell of smoke.
And through it all, the drumming.
The Master woke suddenly, with almost instant clarity. The cold was damp stone against his cheek. The pain... He reached to the back of his head, gingerly prodding, and hissed as the tips of his fingers made contact with the knot slowly forming there. And what felt like dried blood.
He remembered skirting the edge of the debris, waiting with growing impatience as the Doctor chatted on with Sam about the very urgent issue of the fire. As soon as everyone was looking the other way, somehow, in a magical confluence he'd thought would never come-- he'd made his move, hurriedly slipping around the side of the building and making his way purposefully back to the knapsack.
Then the Doctor pinning him against the cobblestones in the 'Alley, shouting something but he was almost free, almost—until he felt himself jerked up by the collar. Then a jarring sensation, interrupting every other sensory input. Then nothing.
The Doctor had knocked him out and must have brought him... here. The Master blinked, surprised, as he gave the place a proper look and realized exactly where he was.
Rose's grotto. Except now, he was betting the gates were locked.
The Master slowly got to his feet, wincing, and made his way slowly over to one end to confirm. He noted with a certain amount of disgust that he was nearly soaked through with condensation from lying on the stone floor. And, even more disturbingly, he was missing his tie.
The first gate was, indeed, locked. The Master stumbled his way towards the other end of the grotto, and the second gate.
( and if you don't love me let me go )
http://community.livejournal.com/nonevidence/81141.html
Rating: PG-13. Time Lords don't swear, and they certainly never shag. Nope. Not ever.
Date: After this.
Location: Some crazy sort of satanic grotto.
The sensation of being carried, limbs dangling over the edge. Canoeing on Loch Lomond with Lucy, his first time in a long time on a boat of any kind. Fingers trailing in the water, eyes closed.
Fog rolling in.
Darkness and cold seeping through, penetrating, spiraling on the edge of nothing. The pain of being ripped apart seemed to take forever.
And he's there, watching it all happen. Making it happen.
Being laid out, arranged, prepared, by those hands, the long slender fingers. Paralyzed. Cold. Deep within, forcing a pressure differential, trying to scream. Hovering around the edge, the smell of smoke.
And through it all, the drumming.
The Master woke suddenly, with almost instant clarity. The cold was damp stone against his cheek. The pain... He reached to the back of his head, gingerly prodding, and hissed as the tips of his fingers made contact with the knot slowly forming there. And what felt like dried blood.
He remembered skirting the edge of the debris, waiting with growing impatience as the Doctor chatted on with Sam about the very urgent issue of the fire. As soon as everyone was looking the other way, somehow, in a magical confluence he'd thought would never come-- he'd made his move, hurriedly slipping around the side of the building and making his way purposefully back to the knapsack.
Then the Doctor pinning him against the cobblestones in the 'Alley, shouting something but he was almost free, almost—until he felt himself jerked up by the collar. Then a jarring sensation, interrupting every other sensory input. Then nothing.
The Doctor had knocked him out and must have brought him... here. The Master blinked, surprised, as he gave the place a proper look and realized exactly where he was.
Rose's grotto. Except now, he was betting the gates were locked.
The Master slowly got to his feet, wincing, and made his way slowly over to one end to confirm. He noted with a certain amount of disgust that he was nearly soaked through with condensation from lying on the stone floor. And, even more disturbingly, he was missing his tie.
The first gate was, indeed, locked. The Master stumbled his way towards the other end of the grotto, and the second gate.
( and if you don't love me let me go )
http://community.livejournal.com/nonevidence/81141.html
