ans99

Just got accepted to two RPGs tonight with a pretty much guaranteed acceptance for a third. Celebrating with a cider.

But you know, the Master is the only one with enough :/ So I did two versions: Saxon and Wastey.

The Character Expression Meme
Character: The Master (Saxon)
Journal: controlparadox
RPG: taxonomites

.happy.	.sad.	.angry.	.scared.
.disgusted.	.surprised.	.flirty.	.sexual.
.confused.	.shy.	.playful.	.rage.
.hurt.	.guilty.	.bored.	.laughing.
.sarcastic.	.tired.	.wtf.	.pride.
.sympathy.	.evil.	.innocent.	.in love.
YOUR	FOUR	FAVORITE	ICONS

The Character Expression Meme
Character: The Master (Wastey)
Journal: pawnofrassilon (but this account has most of the iconz atm)
RPG: none yet

.happy.	.sad.	.angry.	.scared.
.disgusted.	.surprised.	.flirty.	.sexual.
.confused.	.shy.	.playful.	.rage.
.hurt.	.guilty.	.bored.	.laughing.
.sarcastic.	.tired.	.wtf.	.pride.
.sympathy.	.evil.	.innocent.	.in love.
YOUR	FOUR	FAVORITE	ICONS

WANT TO DO IT TOO?
Snag yourself the coding here.

i wrote this in response to a discedo meme, though it could really apply anywhere since a lot of it is personal character philosophy.

Teh Mastar (LOL) (oh and if anyone wants to read up on him to know what the hell i'm talking about at any given time, here's the wikipedia entry on him. i'm playing the most recent incarnation <3 <3)

Characterization

Why This One?: god. well. to be perfectly honest, the Master's dangerously close to my heart, about as far in as a character could ever go. he's just about the only thing i wanted to play. (of course, if you want a tiny piece of a sad story, i apped him for this place thinking that i was getting someone to app the Doctor at the same time, and i don't know if that is ever going to end up happening now since she missed the deadline)

Self-Checkup: this is a weird place for me to personally be playing the Master from. this is taking him back to his Saxon years, really, because in most post-Series 3 fanfic the secret's out, everyone knows he's evil, and he's kind of embarrassingly tactless and irascible and cruel. even in the tv series itself, we don't see much of him pretending to be nice. so to have him get a chance to start fresh, where nobody knows his past, is sometimes hard to nail down. i suppose time will tell, but i'm still nervous. i want to bring him out, little by little, without making him totally bland.

Relationships

Who would your character currently consider their key allies in Discedo? he doesn't really have any yet, but he's clicking with Urataros for sure. i like how they are both liars. i think some interesting, amusing things could be done with that. :D

i also could see him trying to charm Mona Lisa. she just seems like the "companion" type-- smart, female, full of wonder, asking questions.

Who are their key Antagonists/Rivals/Enemies/People They're Not Fond Of? there is nobody specific yet who's gotten his goat. generally the Scientists, for sure, and anyone else in power. but the latter are just really more his secret rivals-- he'd love everyone to answer to him, i'm sure.

Who do they most admire? ah, yeah, he'll get back to you on that one.

Who would you like to see your character interacting with more? most of your fandoms, i will be honest, i do not know :/ i'd like to see him interacting with anyone who'd be up for a little hypnosis, betrayal, mutual evilness, or some combination thereof. but i think in the end he's also going to need someone on his side. it is hard being the Master.

and oh. ROSE. if that mun is still around, she's the only one who shares his canon, and he'd love to fake a friendship with her on the pretense of them both knowing the Doctor.

Setting

Environmental Obstacles: he's a Time Lord, so the food and water and sanitation thing hasn't caught up with him yet... i would say mostly it's the lack of power. he can't manipulate the monsters much, he is not strong, and he has no allies, no control over anything that goes on in Discedo.

if the means to a little technology would blow his way, though, he could work out some insidious stuff.

Havens: he hasn't left the room yet o.0 poor baby. eventually he'd like to take over a bank of rooms in Horton, or if that's not allowed, maybe some other building somewhere, so he can work on... things unimpeded by annoyance or lack of space.

That Dark Alley...: none! yet! he has stayed off the streets in general.

Local History: anything that can help him get out. the Master just doesn't have enough respect for things in general to get too sucked into questions. i mean, look what he did to Logopolis.

Plot/Goals

Motivators: usually it is the Doctor. here, i'd say survival, control, opportunity, science, impressionable women (and sometimes men, sure, whatevs, but Time Lords seem to have a thing for blondes)

Development: i would love to see the Master get in touch with his "humanity." i'd love to see it gnawing away at him like a gloating rat. he really needs to learn how to let himself be vulnerable, come to terms with what he's been through, and... heal. will he? eh, probably not. i think getting him to the point of even approximating being a team player is wish-list material enough.

for the moment he's definitely backsliding into his Saxon persona, even though he really can't afford to right now. he has this incredible lust for power and dominion and control, but controlling Discedo just seems counter-productive. he needs to get back to his own universe. he needs to get back to the Doctor.

i'm hoping he'll develop a way of dealing without the Doctor during his stay, though. otherwise, oh god. i think he'd be even more unstable than usual.

Themes: villain. cynic. alien. rebel. trickster. fallen angel. control freak. bloody sociopathic lunatic.

In what kind of Discedo scenarios could you foresee your character having their abilities or attributes spotlighted, featuring him/her as a key figure? usurping power. building some sort of horrible doomsday device while trying to devise a way home. double-crossing Discedo. fomenting discord.

on a happier note i also think it would be neat to get that science committee off the ground. of course he can always turn that evil under the surface. i should have him try to organize that. Evil Co. can be in shambles!

All right.

So, you have the TARDIS.

Is that what the poem at the bottom of your message is about? Are you planning to do what I did and look into the heart of the TARDIS? Use the power to destroy Wonderland?

( call and answer )
http://community.livejournal.com/wastedlands/183475.html

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

Characters: The Master & The Doctor (Ten)
Rating: Oh, look. Rocks.
Date: Present
Location: The grotto

It had been a sort of forever. The kind where your internal clock either ran sempiternal or didn't run at all. It was unsettling, tormenting, and especially... it was... annoying. One long looping tape of darkness and drumming. That was until the sun rose again, pouring through the dark places and making everything real again.

Everything still here, the whole mess.

Grotto walls. Grotto ceiling. Grotto fountain. Grotto bowling ball. Grotto locked gate...

The Doctor shifted his weight, back from one uncomfortable seated position to another; taking the grotto in again, the staleness gone and redrawn in light -- and maybe this time someone drew him a door, or at least a door knob.

Before the first edge of morning light had crept off the cave floor, the Doctor was on his feet again; hurrying back and forth as if it could die at any moment. He inspected every inch thoroughly, and would have done it again in thou. Except someone stole his sonic screwdriver and it was terribly hard to test for structural weakness via vibrational resonance with a pair of non-sonic spectacles.

He piled rocks high in a corner, trying to tower them up to a particularly cracked piece of ceiling. The bruises, and cuts he had gathered during the collapse were healing rapidly and besides a stiffness of joints that came from a self-induced lethargy; the Doctor felt better than he had all week. His rock tower, however, was looking a little shabby.

Failing that, he resorted again to physics -- or how much force will it take to break open a steel lock with a rock. Apparently the answer was... something more than this and he moved on.

Then the light began to creep up the grotto wall, and he was tired of all the struggling without hope and sat to rest against the pounding in his head. At first the drums were a source of anxiety, until that was all there was and he grew to enjoy them. Like the comforting constant idle of a machine's engine.

Like the hum of a TARDIS.

And in that rhythm the Doctor sunk back into sleep... while a shifting up above began cutting into his senses -- bleeding them out. Until the very lack of them raised tingles through the hairs on his arms. He waned back against the wall, eyes wide and fixed staring at the ceiling. Someone was up there. Digging down to reach him.

( reach out and hurt someone )
(http://community.livejournal.com/nonevidence/93862.html#cutid1)

Characters: The Master, Sam Tyler, Angua, Faye Valentine, Dante, Belgarath, DOCTOR Martha Jones, Rose Tyler
Rating: R
Date: Continued from the Doctor's cottage
Location: Malibu Castle

The horse's last few steps were an exhausted stumble, as it finally reached the steps to the castle. The beast wasn't meant for carrying two men, but it had managed to get them there relatively safely. By the time they arrived, the Master was delirious from blood loss. Sam had tried to ignore him most of the way. The horse waited obediently as Sam heaved himself over the side of the horse, and then pulled the Master down and into the castle.

Sam shoved the Master into the first seating he found once inside, and gave him strict orders to stay in place. Sam left him there to find something, anything to bandage the Master's arm and help cease the bleeding. He collected whatever supplies, or make shift supplies he came across, before making his way back to one of the main rooms of the castle.

Sam sauntered in, and then stopped, glancing around at the new people in confusion. He wasn't that surprised to see people here -- it was a good place to get away from the zombies. But the Master was gone. And amazingly, there wasn't a trail of blood to follow him by.

A crash-splat, and then the shattering and tinkling of glass falling.

The Master had rediscovered the wine room almost by accident, only recognizing the dimly lit, tapestried corridor when he was halfway down it. When he'd swung the door open, his grin had stretched impossibly wider and he'd flung his arms open as if greeting an old friend.

Then he'd started in on the wine, although he was having more fun throwing the bottles against the walls spitefully than actually drinking any of it.

( i drink alone )

Characters: Doctor (Ten), Master (closed)
Rating: PG
Date: Begins a few days after this, and with any luck catches up to the present
Location: Grotto of the Damned

He'd been dreaming of Gallifrey again. Not the last time he'd seen it, half-burning, the Citadel destroyed, all the things he'd told himself he hated smashed and dying. More the idyllic version, for which he was almost sorry.

Almost.

It was the blanket, really. It did smell a bit of horse, it was true, but his show of disgust had been a misdirect. Really, wrapped in the blanket, it smelled more like him than anything. Overpoweringly so, the Doctor's essence imprinted there, encoded by scent. A memory.

While awake he spent the majority of his time trying to pretend the Doctor did not exist-- which was difficult considering he apparently had decided that if the Master would not go to him, he would go to the Master, and to that end had had taken it upon himself to actually, preposterously, "move in." But, as often is the case, when the Master slept his own dreams betrayed him.

And he'd been sleeping an awful lot. Definitely above and beyond the normal requirements for a Time Lord. The Doctor seemed to think it was good for him, "restorative sleep," he called it, but privately the Master figured it was his only chance for escape. And here he was ruining it dreaming about him anyway. And so for a time he was young and hopeful and maybe even maybe a tiny bit enamored, even, and he'd count stars while they lay on their backs together in the fields and he'd plot out in his head all the places they'd find together, find and set right, together. And then he'd wake up and remember, everything flooding back as if it were happening for the first time, just as surely as when he'd woken up from longer, darker intervals, with a small stinging barb in his chest.

A small rumble, hysterical laughter. The man who was not quite the Master yet sat up in the field, as his companion chattered on. The smell of smoke, burning, blood, flesh, commingled in the air, and something bright, almost mistakable for a sunrise, lightened the sky's horizon.

The Citadel was on fire. And in the distance, and in the very back of his mind, above the Doctor's incessant prattle, he could hear the cold, mechanical, eternally angry screams. They were coming.

The Master jolted back into consciousness, his hearts pounding, aching, thinking daleks war hide human gallifrey TARDIS cruciform utopia YOU LEFT ME

And then he felt it, almost a nothing, almost, but...

there.

He hadn't dreamt the rumbling.

( i could go on and on. it just gets worse. )

Characters: 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

My dear fellow citizens (whom I one day hope to call friends),

In the wake of the recent tragedies that have shaken our little community, I've come to realize that a great many of us scarcely know each other. In fact, we actively mistrust and exclude certain parties from information that could be quite vital to their survival. I find this very, very sad, indeed.

I for one am particularly interested in dispelling those vicious rumours that appear to be floating around about me-- that I am a "monster," or a "bad person," or at the very least someone not to be trusted. I gather that many of these are preconceptions fostered by a certain... acquaintance of mine, and I would urge you to come to your own conclusions rather than assume the worst based on hearsay. I admit that I am not proud of everything I've done in the past, but I do not think I should be punished for it forever. Especially during a time when we should be fostering close ties with formidable allies.

To that end, I would like to reach out to you.

I hereby offer, to anyone who feels it is deserved, a heartfelt apology for any pain or annoyance I may have caused. And I offer an opportunity as well. An opportunity to put all of this animosity behind us and start anew. If you have an issue you'd like to resolve with me, I invite you to come see me personally in my humble abode. Whenever you like, really. Given I'm actually home at the time.

Hopefully (over tea and biscuits of course) we can talk everything over in a civilised fashion. I am going to trust you all because I feel trust is something severely lacking in this community, and I want to take a step towards healing it.

I live in Diagon Alley, in the flat above a fox shop. The shop has wooden sign with a fox engraved on it, and it is near the north end of the Alley, across from a surprisingly good sweet shop.

Have a wonderful day, and stay safe, please.

The Master

http://community.livejournal.com/wastedlands/133331.html