prince andrei bolkonsky. written by e.
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@beatingdrxms-blog
prince andrei bolkonsky. written by e.
( personals do not reblog )
alt!
past muses : the master, doctor who ( @beatingdrxms )
“ oh! oh, that is just precious! ” a smile grows on this thin face as he watches, hands pressed together in delight, at the struggle playing out before him. struggle —- that might be a little too generous. it’s really more of a wiggle, a little resistance against bindings ( he’s used some good old fashion rope ), and it is not only pleasing, but as he then decides, absolutely hilarious, and that wicked laugh that bubbles from his throat echoes through the room, its sharp and terrible tones abrasive to the ear. there is no doubt in him that his battle is won before even having been fought —- there’d been very little doubt before, to be fair, but this pushed it over the edge, and in that fit of cockiness that always come over him when he got carried away, that master can’t help be indulge a little in this scene he’s created.
“ what do you think you’re going to do when you finally worm your way to somewhere important? ” he asks, suddenly sinking to his haunches, reaching to seize his prisoner’s chin so they won’t ignore that terrible, flaming look in his eyes. “ do you think this is the part where you suddenly break free and tell me what a mistake it was to share my evil plan? then defeat me outright because of it? human movies —- absolute rubbish. do you know why i told you what i’m going to do? ” an eyebrow cocks, and he releases their chin and springs back up to go back to work on the computers lining the walls, so severe in his movements that it seems impossible for him to be doing something unimportant. but the master is that close to victory. what’s the point if he doesn’t enjoy it? ( upsetting his treacherous childhood friend, even from a place of cosmic obscurity, has to be fun, because if it’s not fun, it’s painful. )
he turns back to the moron on the floor, his grin having become more erratic in those few seconds of wild typing, “ i told you because it’s too late for you to stop it. watch and learn, imbecile. watch what it means to die in fire. ” he turns back —- this part is as convenient as it can be —- and mashes his fist onto the dramatic big red button.
and then, somewhere in the universe, a planet burns.
INDEFINITE HIATUS
i think it’s time to cast this one back into the abyss of hiatus, because honestly, i just don’t have the passion for writing the master any more. of course, feel free to still speak to me, and if anyone is interested, i have a war and peace rp blog ( @princeandrci ) and i might revive my gentleman’s guide rp blog ( @poisonpocket )
sorry fam. i did try to bring this back, but being here for a few weeks just showed me that i don’t really have the muse for it any more.
mindless grumbling
okay so like. i love this muse and obvs i’ve been playing him for a while but i have. so little passion for writing on this blog? like i’ll have a few weeks where it’s great then things just die off again and it’s so hard to pick back up. and im not sure how interested people are in my writing this character either tbh, or how interested i am in the fandom altogether (i’ve kind of moved on from it, you know? not in a bad way, just in the way that people do with things) so idk what to do like. should i put this back in hiatus or what? idk.
Time takes it all, whether you want it to or not.
Stephen King, The Green Mile
“Without hope, without witness, without reward, I am your friend.”
me: *has one draft left*
brain: lol nope time for you to sleep
burdenofatimelord:
It’d been one thing to watch the Earth be engulfed by the Sun from space station - well, no one had actually seen it go, they’d been far too busy worrying about their own survival, but the idea of watching its end had been… Bittersweet, at most. After all, everything had a beginning and everything had an end. Endings might be sad, but they were necessary, and from the ashes and debris of the Earth, other celestial bodies would later be born.
But actually being there, walking upon the Earth when it seemed as though it was barely habitable, when the water in the oceans was gone and he could see no sign of anything other sand for miles… Well, it was a whole other story.
The humans, he figured, must have all left by then. The planet was scorching, the temperatures high enough that even with his suit jacket far behind in the TARDIS and his shirt sleeves rolled up, he was sweating profusely. Humans, he thought to himself, would most likely already be all but non-functional under this heat. Time Lords were considerably more resilient, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he and the Master would last.
And that brought his thoughts to his current situation.
A broken TARDIS, no materials to fix said TARDIS, and no one but the Master for company. That last part could be worse, he supposed - if they had any more company, he’d have to worry about making sure that whoever else was with them didn’t even up being served for dinner and refreshments when their food and water ended.
Almost shaking his head, the Doctor forced his thoughts away from that. There was a good chance that they would be stuck on that planet for a considerable amount of time - letting his thoughts roam into that territory probably wasn’t the best idea. They would be at each other’s throats soon enough - they always seemed to end up there.
Just as soon as the silence was broken, the peace would end, and between the two of them, the silence shouldn’t last too long.
It was only a matter of seconds before the Doctor’s prediction was proven right.
“Well maybe it is pointless!” The Doctor snapped, a little too angry over the situation they found themselves in and too tired from the heat to hold his irritation back. “But what do you suggest? That we just sit around the TARDIS and hope that we’ll come up with a solution before the heat or the lack of food and water kills us?”
The oceans on Earth used to be incredibly vast, and the Doctor knew that they would still have quite some ground to cover ahead of them, but if they could make it to what had once been the shore, then he supposed they stood a chance. They might find water, perhaps some shelter from the heat, and there they would have access to more resources, more things that they could use to craft what they needed to fix the TARDIS.
“Over here, all we’ve got is what’s in the TARDIS and sand. Up there - “ The Doctor pointed towards the horizon. “Is our only chance of finding what we need to fix the TARDIS and get out of here.”
the master could not help but roll his eyes as the doctor spoke ---- partially because everything the other said, simply because he said it, was annoying. and partially because the master knew that he was wrong. without the blinding light of optimism shining like the overgrown sun in his eyes, he knew there would be nothing no matter which direction they walked. behind them, in front of them, on either side, there was naught but sand and stone and death. even if by chance they found, say, metal that hadn’t warped under long expose to the heat, what tools did they have to create from it something that would function in the alien technology that was the tardis. reasonably, logically, this was foolish, never mind the emotional side of things.
but then, what else could he have expected? what else could history have possibly taught him other than to not trust the doctor, to avoid being friendly with his once-friend. it was a wheel on which they turned, round and round through time and space. neither able to escape despite the desperate attempts. it had and always would continue, predictably and painfully. the betrayal. the heartbreak. the rage that always followed; that always built up in his like water behind a dam, pressuring a thin wall of cracked cement, threatening to spill over, and lying in wait. that rage, when it broke through, flooded out in extravagant and reckless tsunamis, the likes of which earth had once seen, when oceans had still covered most of its surface. then something, some moment of not-hate would happen. and again the wheel would be racing downhill.
the question of the hour was; where on the wheel were they headed? betrayal, heartbreak, or rage? was he too exhausted for any of it, he had to wonder? too weary to feel his heart breaking over crushing loss ( which was the very fact of him being there, not fighting the doctor ) and too lifeless to be full of hot rage. oh, the cold burn of hatred was there, it always was. yet the fires that were supposed to burn him up, that everyday turned his soul to ash and his heart to charcoal ( black and crumbling ) sputtered under the weight of the situation. it was all wrong, all of it.
the sand shifting in his shoes, worming between his toes and making every step all the more unpleasant, he managed to speed up. walking, feet slipping on the nearly white stuff beneath them, with purpose and with weariness. the contrasting combination giving him the look of some sort of desperate traveler from tales of long forgotten, largely unnecessary lore. there was, in those movements, a jaggedness, and uneven rhythm that worked in syncopation with the drums in his head. everything was horribly off beat.
that same exhaustion that threatened to extinguish his flaming soul had a similar effect on his physical ability as well, it seemed; catching up to the doctor was difficult, and once he had, keeping pace with him, walking side by side and an arm’s length away, made his hearts pound quite rapidly. never mind what ever they ( failed to ) find on the north american continent; it seemed to him that they would need a good deal of luck to make it there at all.
luck which was, at the moment, apparently in short supply.
“ up there is just more sand, and we both know that, doctor, ” the master insisted irritably. up there was the consequence of time moving slowly along, up there was what stars did, what heat did, it destroyed and melted and burned until there was nothing left but dust. the longer they walked, the greater chance there was that they too would be joining the sand at their feet. and as much as the master loathed his once-friend, he’d rather them both survive than both die out there.
“ we’ll walk until we can’t any more, then one at a time, we’ll die out here. that’s just how it is. at least back in the tardis, those deaths will be comfortable. at least there, we know there are materials of some sort. you’re taking away my opportunity to personally kill you, and we both know what a shame that is. ” they needed things that could be fashioned, proper metals and chemicals. not this human junk that, if it hadn’t been eaten by the planet or taken by its former inhabitants, was more than likely going to be useless. what was the doctor even specifically hoping to find?
@soulstcne // continued.
He was pissed off. She could see it in the rigid rage, rolling from his shoulders, lasering from his eyes into the sky. The anger of a man nobody dared mess with lately. The anger of someone wild, unpredictable, with a secretive plan. She’d seen that kind of fury before. It never ended well; well, rarely, at the least. It took experience to respond correctly, and even then you usually screwed up. Nothing due to what you did, or said, or even represented. It was just the way something as dark and infectious as rage worked. Like the final stages of a deadly disease; once those last symptoms kicked in, no matter how hard you fought, the end result was inevitable.
But still. Deadly diseases didn’t really affect Time Lords. And his rage was mildly contagious.
“Like I said.” She brandished the book, thrusting it in her grip towards him like a triumphant shield wielder. “I’m not leaving it! What does it matter anyway? How is me bringing it away, possibly going to impact this planet? Nobody is going to wake up one morning and think about how this book, this dusty, neglected book, is ever going to save the world!”
Except it could. Possibly. And she wouldn’t be around to know, or change it. The anger evaporated from her almost instantly, fading into a reflective sadness she rarely had cause to feel anymore. Lowering the cracked, leather bound book, Ashley gently pushed through the pages, until she found one that resembled what she’d been looking for at the beginning. “Fine.” She relented, voice dropping to a low solemnity. “But can I at least take one photo? That wouldn’t do anything. Would it?”
it might have been quicker ---- this was a time-sensitive situation, after all ---- to simply let her take it, and had the master been operating purely on logic, he might have bent to her will. let her keep it now, throw it out at some later point, when they weren’t about to be in a lot of trouble. the ugly old volume was, of course, useless, pointless, and probably sentimental in the same way broken valuables were. not of any practical use. a waste of space. an unfortunate reminder of the greatest enemy there could be ( the past ). it was neither harmful nor harmless, but simply useless. his reaction to having it shoved in his direction was an insulted one.
yes, he recognized in the back of his mind what would have been quicker, what could better preserve their lives. yet the master, for all his many ( largely unacknowledged ) faults was recklessly stubborn. so while he understood what would have been better, he also knew that it would be, on his part, a loss. a submission to the will of another. and, most importantly, something he could not stand to do. no, he wouldn’t die fighting over a stupid book. but he’d come damn close if it meant having his way simply for the sake of not losing.
“ it will waste time, ” he growled, again stepping toward the tardis. to just leave her and her precious book did occur to him, of course. in fact, at the moment it presented himself as a rather enjoyable option. despite that, though, she’d get another chance ---- he wasn’t ready to give up the value of having a bargaining chip of his own, of course. if he ever needed a life to threaten, it was easier to have someone standing by. “ drop it and forget about it. it’s completely useless. ”
starter call - @beatingdrxms
Removing the mask from around his face, Dandy threw it to the ground in anger along with the kitchen knife he held in his hand. Probably not the best move to make but when you’re throwing a tantrum, nothing else matters but trying to get your own way and that’s exactly what Dandy was trying to do.
“Why’re you laughing? This—this isn’t a joke! I will kill you!” And just as he brought his hand up to point the ‘blade’ at the man standing before him, he swore under his breath as he didn’t even noticing dropping it in the first place, so he improvised and held out his finger. “Stop it! Stop laughing!” His foot hitting the ground hard, Dandy curled his fists down by his sides.
“ oh, what are you going to do, whine me to death? ” the master could hardly spit out those words, so short of breath as he was from laughing. whatever pathetic little display this was, it had ---- in some small way ---- made his day. of course, he loved masks and knives as much as anyone, but this took it to a new level of poorly done. the kid had a lot to learn.
“ go on, ” he teased, his grin spread wide across his round face, “ i just love it when silly little ants like you put up a good fight. makes it all the more worthwhile. but i have to warn you ---- ” the master advanced a step, his face falling from smiling to stern, the heat of all those stars he’d broken burning in his eyes, “ ---- you’ll be too weak or too stupid to do me any harm. so let’s see how long you last. ”
claraosiwald:
❝ SHUT UP ——— and more than you, I reckon. ❞ Alien prison cells, a couple of times; though it is easier with humans. There tends to be some nice person on duty, someone who doesn’t want to be there and doesn’t agree with everything their army / bosses / etc. were doing. Someone who’s wound up there because of a tragic back-story, a sense of debt. Recruiting someone to her team works but tends to takes quite some time; and patience - being a virtue - isn’t something the Master has any of.
❝ You start threatening to terrorize the planet: great! Only it’s not gonna work from in here so what exactly are your bargaining chips? Threatening something you can’t live up to isn’t gonna scare them, it’s just gonna make them glad they’ve got you in here. ❞
“ and what have you got that’s so much better? ” becoming defensive ---- or more so than usual ---- the master retorted venomously. she might have been right; usually, he managed to avoid getting caught ( those exceptional occasions where he had conveniently slipped his mind ) by way of his cleverness or mercilessness. the fact that this wouldn’t work for escape, he wasn’t ready to believe. after all, who ever liked being wrong?
“ we’re here because we invaded an area they would rather not host guests in. how exactly does good behavior erase that fact, tell me that. what are you going to do, offer them souffle and hope they forgive and forget? threats, now those put the seed of doubt in their minds, the worry that if they don’t meet our demands, then they’ll regret it. fear always works. ”
xchxsingcxrsx:
The Doctor rolled his eyes as he heard The Master call him this. He noticed the grin on his face. The Doctor stayed by the console, focusing on the monitor in front of him. Anything so he didn’t have to look at the annoying grin on The Master’s face.
It was what The Master said next that made him look up. He gripped at the console as he heard what he was saying. It was when he said about going through regenerations, and the whole death warrants thing that made him snap. He grabbed him and pushed him against the railings of the TARDIS. “Don’t you ever say that to me again!” The Doctor said.
the master laughed in the doctor’s face, because he was, in some small way, winning, because he’d gotten a reaction out of the other, because he’d upset him. someone who overall endured a good deal of loss learned to indulge in the little victories, to draw them out and cherish them. and when it was the doctor on the losing side, when he could make the other feel even slightly unpleasant, he was delighted.
“ why not? ” he hissed viciously, their faces close enough that, when he looked into the other’s eye, it was as if he were staring straight into that old, sad soul, straight into that parallel and shared history of pain. the doctor had walked the lighter path, and the master the darker one. and perhaps it was that the doctor had reaped more happiness that the master hated so much. “ i’m right, aren’t i. ”
claraosiwald:
BACK STRAIGHT, smile tight. Look like you’ve already gotten what you want, like you know something they don’t. Clara doubted the Master would ever be someone she could trust as far as she could throw, but right now she was out of options. ❝ Time, ❞ she answered. ❝ All of it. ——- I’ve got a TARDIS parked outside these doors and all you need to get in, is to agree to help me. ❞
time was the one thing the master may have had too much of. but access to a tardis, the ability to enter one ( the chance to commandeer it, to steal it away ) was too valuable to lightly turn down. chin raised, his interest piqued, and arms crossed, he studied her. he was listening. not fully in agreement ( alas he had limits to the good he would allow himself to do ) but he was listening. “ what do you need me to do then? ”
✧・゚:* Not Missy liked this thing-y * :・゚✧
Her Tardis was being a right cow, stubbornly refusing to leave the planet she was currently on. And she really didn’t know what planet that was actually. Boot clad feet brave the outside world and find - Earth? Her brow furrows, turning in a complete circle and finding herself in a junk heap. A crumpled poster beneath her foot reads ❛ VOTE SAXON ☒ ❜ and it tickles the back of her mind as something vaguely familiar.
Bourbon gaze studies the mounds of dirt around her and find HIM. The Doctor, the one from the day of three Doctors too many. All sticky upp-y hair and nice smiles and - oh no, she shouldn’t be here. It’s too cluttered and too not her time period. She turns back to her Tardis and finds a man leaning against the door, she starts at the sight of him. He’s average enough, blond, his features very ❛ cat got the canary. ❜ Bourbon hues finds his and she’s suddenly hit with realization - those eyes. She KNOWS those eyes.
❝ —- Hello, um, I’m Clara. Clara Oswald. And If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get back into my diner. ❞ Delicate hands tremble at her sides, hidden as she shoves them into her hoodie pockets.
the junkyard is his kingdom, over which his sovereignty is absolute, and as far as he is concerned, she is merely an invader. a nervous invader, with nothing but a name and a tardis and an uncertainty about her that only makes him grin grow wider. whatever this clara oswald is doing in his dominion, he does not know. but he is certain that she is in the wrong place, and at the wrong time. what a moronic mistake, he thinks. the sort of thing he personally would have avoided making in the first place.
“ well, that’s a shame, seeing as your diner is currently ---- out of reach, shall we say? ” delight contained behind an exterior that was neither calm nor crazed, he tapped on the diner’s door four times, before pushing off of it to take an inquisitive step toward her. the master had always enjoyed playing with his prey before assigning its fate. before more than now, come to think of it. patience he lacked, met with impulse, is hardly restrained by taking time for fun and games. he is so hungry, so starved, so, so hungry.
“ i could never let you go so soon, anyway, clara oswald. ” at the back of his mind, he has to wonder if he should have recognized the name. but nothing comes to him, so he concedes that it’s not important at the moment . maybe the doctor will know, he thinks ---- the master revels the thought of parading his future prisoner in front of his foolish friend.
❝ Real life sucks people dry. ❞
@ravcnfought
“ ---- is there some alternative in which people live fake lives and end up avoiding that particular fate? ”
❛ It means something to me. ❜ ( @soulstcne but only if you want to! )
@soulstcne
stopped in his tracks, the master did not right away turn. no, he stood there, back to her, rolled his shoulders, turned his head to the sky. as though he were preparing to have to see her face again. as though it, in itself, was a task. never mind the vile words that had come right to the mouth, the banged on the back of his teeth for freedom. oh, he did hate when people brought meaning into matters. it made things far more frustrating to deal with in present time, and far more tedious to deal with when they got sad about it in the future.
his arms raising from his side to sit crossed over his chest, he pivoted. stared at her with a flat and sarcastic expression. and said with a cruel voice, “ the day that something having sentimental value to someone who is not me convinces me to change my mind will be the day that the very universe implodes in on itself. ” was that clear enough? oh, probably, but none the less, he added bluntly, “ i don’t care what it means. leave it, or you can stay here and die. ”
and then he turned around and continued back toward his tardis whether she went with him or not was up to her.