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Characters: The Master (yes, it's a solo log, deal with it)
Rating: PG
Date: Directly after Shark Week
Location: Diagon Alley
The Master had gotten as far as the hole where the fox shop had been before he'd remembered the TARDIS key, stuffed somewhere deep in his pockets, and considered.
Because, after all, where was he going to go now? Where could he go. Alone. It was a word that was apparently destined to haunt him. Because of what he'd done.
Couldn't do.
He ignored that for the moment and tried to focus, the drums still weaving wildly in between his wounded thoughts, Rose laughing, the Doctor begging. The TARDIS would give him the dimensional stability he needed, for his little project. Nothing more. And how beautiful, how stunningly beautiful, how correct would it be, for the Doctor to come back to his home and find it gone?
He'd seen Rose, hadn't he, trying to clear off the stairs to a flat. All philanthropy aside...
She told me they live in Diagon Alley, the Master thought, and immediately the bad taste was in his mouth again and he swallowed it away.
Focus.
Could it be there? He walked back slowly to the spot where they'd had their little... encounter, half-expecting to see her there, back to precisely what she'd been doing earlier hauling the rubble feebly, futilely. As if nothing had happened, and that was the way she was, wasn't it? Always snapped back, like a rubberband. No matter what, back to him. Always him.
There was nobody there. The Master walked a little around the side of the building, trying to ignore his own bitter thoughts, trying to get a handle on the situation, when he noticed the hum. It was volatile, flitting on the fringes of his perception, but it was there, and as he walked round to the back, edging past piles of dusty bricks interspersed with piles of wigs-- and then, as if Wonderland liked the rhyming scheme, the shattered remains of what looked like piggy banks-- it grew and grew until it sang to him, interweaving with the drums to form something even more beautiful than before.
Yes. The Doctor's TARDIS was almost directly above him, in that flat.
The question of how he was going to reach it, now, was another entirely. He couldn't see himself going round to the front and continuing Rose's efforts; not when she was likely to return at any moment. Or maybe he would. In any case, it would be better if he could find another way in.
He stood in the narrow little alley looking up at the wall of the flat. A little way past him, it looked like some of the structure had crumbled around the window, shattering it, the glass nearly completely gone. Surrounding the area were large mountains of debris, mostly fantastical but a fair amount belonging to the buildings on either side. The Master smiled, a grim little set line, and began to climb.
There were a few moments when he was sure he was going to slip, break his neck, or perhaps the mound itself would crumble into its small, somewhat innocuous components, but somehow he found himself lurching over the edge of the sill, ripping his dress shirt on a snag of glass left behind like an old tooth. The hum was nearly overpowering now, and the Master struggled to his knees, looking up to find himself at the base of the TARDIS as if he were a devoted supplicant. He scrabbled to his feet, placing his palm against the faded blue wood for a second and closing his eyes.
home
Alarmed, he pushed the unwelcome sentiment away and grinned at the old bitch. "Miss me?" The Doctor's key was out, and eagerly he fumbled it into the doors and pushed them inward, shutting them behind him.
There was a small pause, perhaps the span of a minute, the universal equivalent of the catch of a breath, before the screaming, grinding sound began and the blue box in the middle of the flat gradually, gracefully, disappeared.
http://community.livejournal.com/nonevidence/99323.html
Rating: PG
Date: Directly after Shark Week
Location: Diagon Alley
The Master had gotten as far as the hole where the fox shop had been before he'd remembered the TARDIS key, stuffed somewhere deep in his pockets, and considered.
Because, after all, where was he going to go now? Where could he go. Alone. It was a word that was apparently destined to haunt him. Because of what he'd done.
Couldn't do.
He ignored that for the moment and tried to focus, the drums still weaving wildly in between his wounded thoughts, Rose laughing, the Doctor begging. The TARDIS would give him the dimensional stability he needed, for his little project. Nothing more. And how beautiful, how stunningly beautiful, how correct would it be, for the Doctor to come back to his home and find it gone?
He'd seen Rose, hadn't he, trying to clear off the stairs to a flat. All philanthropy aside...
She told me they live in Diagon Alley, the Master thought, and immediately the bad taste was in his mouth again and he swallowed it away.
Focus.
Could it be there? He walked back slowly to the spot where they'd had their little... encounter, half-expecting to see her there, back to precisely what she'd been doing earlier hauling the rubble feebly, futilely. As if nothing had happened, and that was the way she was, wasn't it? Always snapped back, like a rubberband. No matter what, back to him. Always him.
There was nobody there. The Master walked a little around the side of the building, trying to ignore his own bitter thoughts, trying to get a handle on the situation, when he noticed the hum. It was volatile, flitting on the fringes of his perception, but it was there, and as he walked round to the back, edging past piles of dusty bricks interspersed with piles of wigs-- and then, as if Wonderland liked the rhyming scheme, the shattered remains of what looked like piggy banks-- it grew and grew until it sang to him, interweaving with the drums to form something even more beautiful than before.
Yes. The Doctor's TARDIS was almost directly above him, in that flat.
The question of how he was going to reach it, now, was another entirely. He couldn't see himself going round to the front and continuing Rose's efforts; not when she was likely to return at any moment. Or maybe he would. In any case, it would be better if he could find another way in.
He stood in the narrow little alley looking up at the wall of the flat. A little way past him, it looked like some of the structure had crumbled around the window, shattering it, the glass nearly completely gone. Surrounding the area were large mountains of debris, mostly fantastical but a fair amount belonging to the buildings on either side. The Master smiled, a grim little set line, and began to climb.
There were a few moments when he was sure he was going to slip, break his neck, or perhaps the mound itself would crumble into its small, somewhat innocuous components, but somehow he found himself lurching over the edge of the sill, ripping his dress shirt on a snag of glass left behind like an old tooth. The hum was nearly overpowering now, and the Master struggled to his knees, looking up to find himself at the base of the TARDIS as if he were a devoted supplicant. He scrabbled to his feet, placing his palm against the faded blue wood for a second and closing his eyes.
home
Alarmed, he pushed the unwelcome sentiment away and grinned at the old bitch. "Miss me?" The Doctor's key was out, and eagerly he fumbled it into the doors and pushed them inward, shutting them behind him.
There was a small pause, perhaps the span of a minute, the universal equivalent of the catch of a breath, before the screaming, grinding sound began and the blue box in the middle of the flat gradually, gracefully, disappeared.
http://community.livejournal.com/nonevidence/99323.html
