barrenschat | TEST DRIVE MEME;

[The Doctor's been all sorts of places, seen all sorts of species. He's been through innumerable wars, seen planets destroyed, and saved many, many more. So being enlisted into a strange war on a strange world is just another day in his life, right? Right.

a) After his arrival in the Amber Sanctum, the Doctor is experimenting with his new powers. Time Lords don't really have overt powers, as such; that sort of thing is entirely too flashy for his people. But, of course, the Doctor isn't exactly a typical Time Lord. He looks down at the lightning wreathing his hands, sparks crawling over the cuffs of his purple tweed jacket, and banishes them with a click of his fingers.

b) He's currently poking around Silverglen Retreat. Every so often, he pauses to touch something, and his eyes briefly go unfocused as the knowledge of that object's past is seared into his mind. That done, he moves on to chat with a bewildered-looking night elf or two or examine the architecture of the small village. While not as energetic as his immediate predecessor, it still seems like he manages to be everywhere and doing everything at once.

Edited 2014-03-08 01:40 (UTC)

[ While many of the other beings in the sanctum are busy flickering in and out of current time, there's this guy who approaches with a boisterous laugh. He's very entertained over the situation or perhaps a bit impressed they were able to succeed. ]

Welcome, welcome. [ With this dismissive attitude, he should leave the introductions to the Dragon Mage associated with their flight. ] You are one of particular interessst.

Have you familiarized yourssself with Azeroth yet, Hero?

[The sanctum is wreaking havoc with his sense of time - or maybe it's the fact that he's in a different dimension entirely - or maybe it's both. Who knows? And this guy...well, if Jack hurts to look at because he's a fixed point in time, then the being in front of him is his polar opposite. He's like nothing the Doctor's ever seen before, and that is a feat that doesn't occur often. Either way, the Doctor has to shake his head to clear it before he speaks.]

Can't say I'm quite familiar with it yet, no, since I haven't been outside this Sanctum of yours - lovely place, though, love what you've done with the landscaping. Very, um, minimalist in a Saharan sort of way, I suppose. With a touch of Dali - well, no, that would have melting clocks, not hourglasses-

Anyway, Azeroth. Never heard of it before, and that's pretty unlikely, all things considered. 'Course, so is pulling me out of a temporally shielded ship and into an entirely different dimension, so I reckon today's a day for all sorts of new things. [He claps his hands together and rubs them excitedly; rather than being daunted by the prospect, he seems rather enthusiastic about it.]

[ The mortal races were always interesting in their own way (therefore making them easy to ignore), but this one in particular was worth his attention. ]

Venturing outssside isssn't recommended. [ Unless he was fond of demons and the smell of sulfur in the air. ] At leassst not until thingsss have ssssettled down.

[ Rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ] You are pleasssed to be here then?

So we've been brought here to help you with your fight, but we aren't meant to go outside? Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice said. Of course, if you're to be believed, it's not just your fight, but one shared among all of us from every reality.

I'd be happier about it if I still had my TARDIS. [Ah, yes, and now there's a slightly more sour tone to his voice. He doesn't much like being separated from his ship and coerced to do something that he might have done of his own accord if asked politely. All this manipulation reminds him of his own people ~~possibly because they've done that to him before and set off a chain of Very Bad Events in the process~~.] Did you ever think about giving us a choice in the matter? I'm afraid I make a poor soldier, you see. I've got all sorts of disciplinary issues, amongst other things.

[ With boisterous laughter (which really isn't appropriate for the conversation, but he's not entirely all there), Nozdormu shakes his head. He asks things of him that he can't deliver for good reason--there was just something about that ship of his that would offset the rifts of time. ]

Difficult asss it isss to ssstart over, ssssurely you of all people could appreciate the experience assss it were. [ Heh. ] It isss every day you travel to the passst, but to the passst of another world you have never been to before in your life?

If exploration isss what you ssseek, there isss plenty of the world out there to be found though you might dissscover with hassste that mossst of it isss too hot to handle.

[Oh, sure, you can have timey-wimey shenanigans going on in your own sanctum, but you can't let others have their ships. That's fine, he'll just sulk about it for a bit. I mean, since you derailed his sulking plans anyway by kidnapping him in the first place.]

Not every day I end up with strange powers, either. Usually I end up saving the universe with nothing but my own two hands. [Also his considerable brainpower, plus the contents of his pockets. Don't knock it, twine can be really useful. Not to mention his sonic screwdriver, of course.] And trust me, I'm used to things being too hot to handle, as you put it. I think I'll be able to handle myself just fine around here.

[Famous last words. Nozdormu isn't going to help you once the trolls have you in a ~~pot~~ cage, Doctor.]

[ Being a hypocrite is his second best trait, please don't try to take it away from him. ]

Hindsssight is remarkable. [ It might not have much to do with this conversation, but perhaps he's speaking of one that's yet to occur in the near future. ] Easssier isss it not to sssecond guesss after the matter?

Sssaving a sssingle universsse with your handsss isss a great feat, but how will you fare when there are thousandsss more intertwined with the demonic forcesss?

[ he might notice that at some point, he's picked up a young female shadow who's been trailing after him experimentally touching what he's touched. instead of receiving any impressions from the touch, she just keeps the contact for a few confused seconds before moving on. she tries to keep her distance but she's far from being experienced at being stealthy, occasionally craning her neck to get a look at what he's holding and what the heck he seems to be getting out of it and muttering. lots of muttering. ]

Okay, what am I doing wrong?

Edited (forgot to include which prompt the first time sorry!) 2014-03-09 17:49 (UTC)

[He's noticed the young woman shadowing him, darting a few glances at her when she hasn't been looking, but he hasn't spoken to her yet. When she speaks, he turns to look at her, a carved wooden bowl in his hands. He can see every stage of its life, from acorn to tree, to being shaped by a Night Elven artisan and used by one of the villagers.]

Nothing. It should just come to you naturally. Here- [He closes the distance between them, taking one of her hands and pressing it against the bowl.] Do you see it? The acorn being planted and growing tall through the years, stretching for the sun until it's felled by an axe, the hands of a woman coaxing the most natural shape for the bowl out of the grain of the wood, bit by bit?

((No idea if any of this is plausible buuuut... Blacksworn for the mo'.))

[The Master doesn't want to be here, not really. It's not like he's ever taken well to orders in the first place, used to being the man in charge, but even he can understand a bit of obedience in the right circumstances. He certainly doesn't want to cross Deathwing, or any of the Flight, even if it makes him a pawn in someone else's game.

Courtesy of the Black Dragonflight being feared here, he's apparently supposed to give them a reminder as to why. He's pretty sure he's been sent on a suicide mission. Even cloaked in shadow as he gets to Silverglen Retreat--slow moving, cautious, afraid of any wrong step--he thinks that the guards or some wandering dragonkin will find him, and snuff him out instantly.

Death by guards still seems better than death by, well, Deathwing.

So that's how the Master finds himself slipping out of the shadows, pressed to a tree, calling forth the imp he made a pact with very early on--What do YOU want? it shrieks and cackles in a grating voice--and already accepting death as he commands the imp to go as far from him as it could manage, and start setting fires around the place.

Anyone with half a brain would realize that the imp wasn't something of the Burning Legion and had to have a master, but he was hoping that everyone around the Retreat was too dimwitted, and maybe only his imp would meet a bad end. He probably shouldn't treat the thing as badly as he does; it might come back to bite him one day.

Oh well.

He watches, crouched over, focused, trying to monitor the ebb and flow of his own energy, as well as his surroundings, and the status of his imp.]

[While the Night Elves are busy trying to douse the flames, the Doctor is looking for the cause. It doesn't take him long to spot the imp cavorting around, cackling as it sets fires, but chasing it takes a bit longer - until he remembers his other new skills, anyway. In a stroke of luck, things don't go awry, and he actually manages to teleport a short distance forward, right on top of the imp.

Most of the natives of Azeroth would kill the imp on sight, but the Doctor has other things in mind, like finding out who sent the thing. One touch gives him all the information he needs - the memories are fragmented, but he's got enough to piece together where it came from, and so he makes his way over to where the imp's master is crouching in the shadows.

He's expecting one of the demons he's seen from a distance; the fragments of memories he'd caught from touching the imp didn't include any images of the one who commanded it. But his own senses, the ones he was born with, tell him a different tale. Though there isn't any outward sign of his surprise, his hearts skip a beat, and he has to pause for a moment before he speaks.]

Stooping to petty arson? How unlike you.

[The Master practically snarls at being found--it's brief, like the manifestation of his energy rippling over him, and he quickly stomps down his emotion and takes control of himself. It isn't a guard, it isn't a dragon. He doesn't know who else is crazy enough to face him with a simple quip instead of a weapon, except--

But it can't--

Well. It easily could.

He knew the Doctor was still alive, kicking around as always. If the Burning Legion got to Gallifrey, it was only sensible that they got to the Doctor, and the Doctor made it here. He thinks about pulling his imp away from its task and nuking the Doctor where he stands. He has a task to do, he'd like to get it done and go, thanks.

Instead he just remains crouched there, a tense wire ready to break.]

Ha ha. Very funny. What do you want? Go away, I'm busy.

No.

[That's all he offers, a quiet denial that nevertheless bears the resolve of someone who's faced down entire armies without a single weapon to his name, someone who's used to standing in between the Master and whatever his current goal is. As he speaks, an aura of frost crackles out from him, catching the nearby imp and freezing it in place.]

These people have enough to worry about without you burning down one of the few safe havens they have. Leave them alone, Master.

[If he needed any other proof, that was it, right there. He snorts. His imp is never going to stop complaining about this the next time it has its voice free. Great. Thanks a lot.]

Yeah, and I have enough to worry about without burning them down. So, funnily enough [he laughs, even though his expression is anything but amused] even if I wanted to let them go on with their merry little war-torn lives, I can't!

[Isn't that hysterical? He thinks it's hysterical. Come on, laugh with him, Doctor.]

[The Master's sense of humour has always been somewhat lacking. The Doctor regards him with a straight face, studying him carefully. He wonders for a moment if the dragons have somehow fixed him, or if he's expending his life force with everything he does. If he had the TARDIS here, he might be able to find a way to fix him (because of course, despite everything, the Doctor still wants to help his old friend), but- well. He's stranded on Azeroth, and he has no idea where his TARDIS might be.]

There was a time when you wouldn't have taken orders from anyone. Why do what they tell you to now?

[He straightens and folds his arms. Please, don't remind him. It's a sore enough subject as it is.]

Have you ever "met" any of the Black Dragonflight, Doctor?

[He almost says "Deathwing," but he doesn't particularly like to say the name out loud. There's a very small pinprick of fear in the Master's expression; nearly everyone else in any world would miss it, but the Doctor wouldn't.]

I can't say I've had the pleasure, no.

[Of course he catches that flicker of fear, and it makes him wonder. The dragons of his own flight haven't told him much about the others, and they've certainly avoided speaking of the Black. Now he suspects that there's something more to that omission than meets the eye.]

Send the imp back to where it came from. You've done enough destruction already. [And with a wry tone in his voice, he adds:] Tell them that a Dragonsworn from one of the other flights stopped you. It's the truth, after all.

Then don't act like you understand.

[He has a biting remark ready, an outright denial. The same old story between them told over and over again. His energy spikes within him, lashing like its alive. He holds it back. Closes his eyes, calms down.]

Unfreeze him, first. [He sniffs, acting disinterested.] If he goes back like that, I won't hear the end of it next time.

[He wanted to get out of this situation alive, after all. He won't even have to lie to his superiors--because that's always fun on the shaky state of his mind.]

Edited 2014-03-11 22:05 (UTC)

[He takes a step closer when the Master closes his eyes, peering at him closely. One hand goes to the sonic screwdriver in the pocket of his coat (because of course he's disdained the offer of robes; they haven't even got bowties), but he doesn't make any move to take it out and scan the Master just yet.]

It'll thaw on its own in just a-

[The ice dissipates as he's speaking. Luckily for him, because it does sort of tend to vary, and he hasn't got the slightest idea how to go about unfreezing something. He's not that good at using these new powers of his yet, but he doesn't want the Master to know that.]

There. See?

You let me get frozen! What kind of master DOES THAT?! [Is the shrill shrieking of the freed imp, flailing angrily.

The Master scowls.] YOUR master. At least you're not half dead. Now get out of here! [While it looks like the imp wants to keep yelling, it disappears. The Master mumbles something under his breath and look away.]

You see what I have to put up with?

Edited (fffff god) 2014-03-12 03:18 (UTC)

[The Doctor almost cracks a smile at that, but hides it quickly, instead speaking rather dryly.]

I might be more sympathetic if we weren't talking about a creature you'd enslaved against its will. Not to mention a demon - it's certainly not as if that sort of thing has backfired on you before, after all.

[But that was lifetimes ago, back when the Master still thought taking over the world with plastic daffodils was a brilliant evil scheme. At least it had made his own exile on Earth a little less dull, though.]

You're still dying, then. Burning up your life force with every spell you cast, I imagine. [There's a concerned look in his eyes; he doesn't want the Master to die, not again, but he doesn't know what he can do to stop it.] Strange, you'd think the Black Dragonflight would want to keep their Dragonsworn alive.

[He huffs. He's got perfect control of the damn imp. He'd probably have a voidwalker by now, too, if it didn't eat up almost every scrap of his personal energy to get it to this plane. He decided to wait awhile before he tried another attempt.

His expression shifts into something feral.]

You give the dragonflight far too much credit, but it's fine, I don't need them to keep me alive. [He slowly starts towards the Doctor, unfolding his arms, spreading his hands.] Thanks to my "unlocked potential" I've got access to all the fuel I need.

[Oh, ask, Doctor. Ask him what his alternate fuel source is. It'll make the Doctor positively furious.]

[Any concern the Doctor might have had for the Master quickly dissipates at the expression on his face. He knows a bit about warlocks, and he's capable of putting two and two together ~~sometimes~~. The look in his eyes turns hard and cold again as he takes a step back.]

You're draining others' life energy.

[It's not a question - nor is it surprising, considering that he's, well, the Master. Where the Doctor's previous regeneration might have begged the Master to let him help him find another way, this Doctor is older and less inclined to forgiveness.]

You need to stop.

[His face falls. You took away all his fun by guessing! He wanted to make a show of it! His dejection quickly turns to rage. He jerks a thumb at his chest and raises his voice.]

Oh don't get so sanctimonious. It's not like I'm killing them! [Most of them. He needs soul shards sometimes, okay.] This whole thing is a game of survival, and I am going to survive it. If you have such a problem with that, then maybe I should just drain your life energy in their place! [It's tempting. He can feel the spell on the tips of his fingers, just waiting to be used. What would it be like, draining the life of another Time Lord?]

TEST DRIVE MEME;

the Eleventh Doctor | Doctor Who | Bronze Dragonflight

(a)

HELLO TIMEY-WIMEY BRO

aw yes the thread I have always dreamed about!

handscheeks.jpg

pinches cheeks!!

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b!

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(b) hiii... eheheh...

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