Open RP - The Master returns
Oct. 12th, 2010 02:02 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
theregothedrums.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
hh_mirror((with the approval of the other Who muns))
He was...
He was in a slick heap on the floor, the smell of butter the first thing he consciously aware of. The smell. It was impossibly silent, an undreamed-of silence.
The Master, looking distinctly unmasterful in ragged, butter-drenched clothes, dragged himself from the room, pulling himself upright on the doorframe.
Silent, but for his breathing, and the butter dripping from him to the floor. His mouth felt greasy, and he spat to clear it. If only he could do the same to his mind! It was too quiet to think. He staggered into the hall.
He was...
He was alive. And that was all the starting point he'd ever needed.
The Master's laughter echoed down the stony corridor, echoing, folding in on itself. He was alive.
He was...
He was in a slick heap on the floor, the smell of butter the first thing he consciously aware of. The smell. It was impossibly silent, an undreamed-of silence.
The Master, looking distinctly unmasterful in ragged, butter-drenched clothes, dragged himself from the room, pulling himself upright on the doorframe.
Silent, but for his breathing, and the butter dripping from him to the floor. His mouth felt greasy, and he spat to clear it. If only he could do the same to his mind! It was too quiet to think. He staggered into the hall.
He was...
He was alive. And that was all the starting point he'd ever needed.
The Master's laughter echoed down the stony corridor, echoing, folding in on itself. He was alive.
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