Open RP - The Master returns

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

((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.

Comments

[eleventyrags.livejournal.com]

"I always say, if you don't have a sense of taste, you're better off dead." He paused. "Actually, I never say that. usually say I'm the coming storm and if you mess with me I'll knock you into next universe. But it doesn't matter." He flapped those words away, plastering on a fakey smile. "I'll show you where the bath is, anyway."

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

Good to know that his backbone hadn't entirely vanished. It would be depressing if the Doctor were to become as weak and sentimental as the Master actually told himself he was.

Not that he thought that consciously. It was more of a vague sensation of relief and approval.

"I miss the baths on Rexlar 7," he said. "Pity their sun went supernova."

[eleventyrags.livejournal.com]

"Alas, nothing gold can stay," the Doctor sighed, refusing to be baited. It had been a pity. But if there was anything he'd learned over the last nine hundred odd years, it was that he couldn't solve every problem. Sometimes the universe just had to take its own course.