chipmunkwrites-blog
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chipmunkwrites-blog · 7 years ago
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sharkwrites.
the tardis’ reaction to his act is      electric.      a gasp ,     as he snatches back her hand ,     pressing his thumb down upon the cut so firmly that she cannot help but     whimper    in pain as he does.       but then he raises his thumb to his lips ,     and she watches with wide eyes as his tongue peeks out to lick away the blood that she has left upon him.        ❛   master … ?     what are you …  ?   ❜        her attention is pulled away then ,    by his pointed question.     another gasp ,     before elian speaks.
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❛   hmmm ?     what did master  ?   ———   oh ,     not terribly ,    but  …  well ,    I thought that perhaps I might terribly  …  that maybe  …  master might like a dreadful bit of company ?    I could sit quietly …  master won’t terribly hear a single peep from me   !   ❜
❛   company ?   ❜   the time lord repeats ,  a clear note of distaste in his voice.      ❛   why would I want   COMPANY ?   ❜     he watches her ,  over the rim of his cup ,  as he takes another sip of tea.     he’s still not sure he   cares   for this   ---------   set in his ways ,  the master ,  and as charming as her worshipful glances are   (   worship ,  true devotion ,  can never be prized highly enough !   ) ,  she is rather   ...   underfoot.
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------------   but she may prove USEFUL.      ❛   what do you know of   junovean catalyst engines ,  love ?   ❜   he asks after a moment ,  making a gesture for her to sit   (   at his   feet ,   of course ,  even though there is a second chair in the corner of the room   ).     she’d best not expect to make a   habit   of this ,  but he can indulge her ,  this once ,  to get what he desires.      ❛   I’ve been staring at these blueprints all morning and can’t seem to work out the override.   ❜
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chipmunkwrites-blog · 7 years ago
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sharkwrites.
𝙸𝚃𝚂  𝙰𝙻𝙻  𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝙳  𝚂𝙾  𝚀𝚄𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝚈.        one moment ,      she’s practically pleading for this strange man to help her find her missing time lord ,     and the next   ————   she’s being pushed back into what is instantly recognizable to the tardis as a      raxicorican  air  trap ,      and he’s growling at her that she must not know the master so well as she claims.        ❛   wait   !   ❜        the tardis gasps ,      a seizing pain now beginning to course like wild - fire through her body.        this  must  be  a  mistake.        she longs to say ,        though what escapes elian’s lips is nothing more than a strained cry of pain while this too - new body freezes in place.      teeth clench together now ,     hard.     and while it is difficult now for the tardis to breathe ,     she finds it impossible to move.      impossible to do anything ,    save stare wide - eyed at the as he too ,     begins to scream.
of  course.      she allows herself a gasp ,     as an all too familiar scene begins to play out before her very own eyes.     as tendrils of golden light begin to seep out into the air around him.        REGENERATION.        and as the air begins to settle        (   as the rhythm of the drums ,     which had before seemed so very faint ,     and nearly muffled   …    now pound violently ,     with a     resounding   clarity     within her very being  )        elian realizes who stands before her now.   ———   and wonders privately to herself how in the universes’ name she could ever have been    so    foolish ,     as to not have recognized him before.           the  master.
she remembers where she is ,    when his hand wraps around the delicate flesh of her throat.       remembers    who    she is ,       what       she is ,      and knows that the next words that leave from her lips will be the single most important words she has ever spoken out loud.
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❛   I  —   ❜        she struggles ,     allowing the air trap to render her completely immobile.     trying her very best to ignore the feeling that her very body itself might       explode       at any second.        ❛   I am not a time lord.     I am not gallifreyan.      I  …  I am a    tardis.   ————  I  AM  YOUR  TARDIS.   ❜        she can feel this body growing weaker by the moment ,     can feel her legs     trembling     under her weight ,     as though it is taking everything she has to remain standing.        desperately ,     elian’s gaze raises to meet his ,    and she hopes that despite his anger ,     he might see the      truth     in her own star - dust eyes ,     as she speaks.        ❛   I  —  I waited  …  in the time vortex ,     I waited   !        but I  …   I grew so terribly tired of waiting.       you  …  the master ,     you      are     my time lord  —  you   are   my pilot  !      you  …  you misunderstand  …  you do not terribly belong to me.     I  BELONG  TO  YOU   !     and  …  and I have been looking for you ,    and  —   ❜      elian gasps ,     as her legs finally give out under the weight of the air trap ,     and she falls to her knees before him.
❛   if  —  if you let me go  …  I can    prove  it    to you   !     I could prove it ,     please  …   ❜
❛   a tardis !   ❜   he exclaims ,  a sharp ,  bitter laugh echoing across the room.      ❛   MY tardis ,  no less !     you really   do   think little of me ,  don’t you ,  love ?     my tardis was   taken   from me ,  during the early days of the time war.     conscripted to the cause.     rassilon   ------   ❜   he resists the urge to spit ,  the name tasting so sour upon his tongue ,    ❛   ------   he told me she’s got a new pilot ,  now.     besides ,  tardis take many forms ,  but I’ve never heard of one taking the form of a   HUMAN.   ❜     he cannot hide his contempt as he slowly releases his hold upon her throat.     of all the forms a tardis might take ,  is there any more   distasteful   than that ? but then he makes a mistake.     then he looks ,  really   looks   into the ginger woman’s eyes   ------------   AND BEHIND THEM ,  HE SEES UNIVERSES.     planets and constellations ,  suns ,  moons ,  stars.     beautiful   &&   burning.     and all of them ,  every last one ,  calling out to him.     coaxing him.     promising that they will be   his ,   if he only reaches out to take them.     he takes a step back ,  colour draining from his already pale face.     ❛   ------   how are you doing that ?   ❜   he growls ,  as his eyes scan the room for something ,   anything   that will give him an advantage.     he’d thought he was in   control ,   when he’d planned out this meeting ,  but now he feels it slipping through his fingers.     is it possible that everything he dreamed of to keep a hold upon his fragile sanity during the time war   ------   the power ,  the infamy ,  the universe herself   ------  has just been handed to him on a    silver platter ?     no ,  he decides at last.     when has fate ever been so kind to him ?
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❛   and if you   COULD   prove that you’re my ship ?     even if you   are   all that you say you are ,  elian parker   ------   it changes nothing.     you’ve already admitted that you seek the master so that you can    tear out his hearts.   ❜     the time lord’s resolve wavers ,  only for a moment.     the universe herself has fallen to her knees before him ,  and it very nearly takes the breath out of him.     he remembers ,  now ,  what   real power   feels like.     so very different from the manufactured crumbs that rassilon deigns to toss him ,  when it suits the lord high president’s plans.     but he must be strong.     this ,  too ,  could be a trap.     this ,   too ,  could spell his doom.     carefully ,  so carefully ,   he approaches her ,  placing his index finger beneath her chin   &&   forcing her to look up at him.     ❛   you’ve given me no reason to believe that your plans have   changed ,   now you’ve found me.     have you ,  love ?   ❜ leaving her held fast in the trap   ---   knowing full well that its charge will soon wear off ,  setting the ginger woman free once more   ---   he returns to the sofa   (   and his glass of scotch   )   with an exaggerated casualness.     one long sip ,  two ,  and then he turns his attention back to his   ...   guest.     ❛   besides ,  if you’re looking for the   MASTERMIND   behind saxon industries   ------   I’m not your man.     this is all   rassilon’s   doing.     tear out   his   hearts ,  if you’ve a mind.     I’ll even give you the blade.     of course ,  this is all assuming I don’t kill you right now.   I’m still waiting on a compelling reason why I   shouldn’t.   ❜
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chipmunkwrites-blog · 7 years ago
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sharkwrites.                          
𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝙲𝙰𝙽  𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙴𝙻𝚈  𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳  𝚃𝙾  𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙽  𝚃𝙾  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆𝚂 ,        so very thrilled is she ,     that he has taken her bait.        the tardis is no fool       (   not like the rest of these journalists   ) ,      and she sees the     surprise     in his face at her mention of an environment charge ,      as plainly as she seesherself in the mirror of the hotel’s washroom ,    while she prepares for the private interview she’s been granted.      though she has to smile  —  privately ,    of course  —  at his insistence that he must be      older      than her.     oh ,     if only he knew  …  if only he knew ,     what a     relic    she was ,    in the eyes of the gallifreyans.   ————   another journalist comes into the washroom ,     glancing at the tardis with a too friendly smile ,    as she exclaims over how     jealous     she is that the ginger woman has been granted an      exclusive   interview      with harold saxon himself.       did she know ,     how many would kill for such an opportunity  ?       she assures the tardis ,     that this would     make     her career ,     and elian simply smiles.
it isn’t long after that she finds herself sitting across from the other in the hotel lounge   ;       there’s a great deal less people here now ,     and for a moment the tardis finds herself distracted.        (   un - able to concentrate on what saxon is saying to her   )        she  hears  them.       faint at first ,     but growing louder and louder by the very second.        the  sweet  rhythm  of  drums ,     pounding a beat of four inside her head.       the same beat at which ,    long  ago ,     the currents of energy within flowed within her shell ,     whenever he flew her.
HE  IS  SO  CLOSE ,     THAT  SHE  FEELS  AS  THOUGH  SHE  CAN  REACH  OUT  AND  GRAB  HIM.       but she dares not act too soon.     saxon will give her what she wants ,     she is certain of this.
❛   hmmm  ?     what were you saying  ?   ❜        a sweet smile ,    as he hands her a glass of wine ,     and she’s careful not to let their fingers touch ,    lest he feel the time - energy running through her veins ,    and know that she is not who she says she is.        ❛   oh ,    well  …  I’m new.   ❜        she lies with ease ,    though she knows that this is not entirely convincing.        ❛   but  …  I’m working on  …  it’s something dreadfully similar to a      case ,     not a story.      and for that to work ,    I need access to a man.    and I’ve quite a dreadful bit of evidence that proves to me    you    might terribly show me where he is.   ❜        she makes a point to ignore his question ,    of who she is.      for now.
it’s her turn now ,     to lean forward.     and if he looks closely ,     he’s certain to see the      intensity      in her gaze ,   as she speaks.        ❛   now ,    I’m not some sort of dreadful fool   ———   I do dreadfully know a       GALLIFREYAN   ENVIRONMENT   CHARGE        when I see one ,     mr . saxon.    and I assume you aren’t dreadfully the man behind this.   ❜        her heart beats faster than it ever has.     she can smell it on him   …   time  lord.     the faintest trace of it on him.       ❛   the man that I’m looking for  … the  man  behind  all  this ,     he’s oh so very    dreadfully  dear     to me ,    mr . saxon.      i’ve known him life times ,     and i’ve been looking for him ,     so that I might terribly      tear  his  hearts  in  two ,     for leaving me as he did ,     when he promised me that he would come back for me.   ❜       her grip on the wine glass is tight ,    now.     so tight ,    that it seems likely to break at any moment.        ❛   you ,    you know him ,    don’t you   ?       don’t terribly lie to me ,   I can     smell     it on you  …  and I want him back.      you    must    give him back to me ,   I’ve waited long enough ,    and I  —  I can’t terribly stand it any more   !   ❜         all at once ,    the tardis’ expression shifts into one of     sadness.     to one of longing.     she’s been searching for so long ,     and she’s tired.
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❛   he goes by many names.    two ,    most of all.   —————   THE  MASTER ,     he’s called.    koschei.   he’s a time lord ,     and he’s    my    time lord ,     and I want him back.   ❜
a bitter laugh escapes pale lips.     she’s not   WRONG.     much as he might wish it ,  the master is clearly   not   the man in charge of the shuttle scheme.     he is the   face ,   only.     a figurehead ,  with no power of his own.     and while he finds it hard to believe that   anyone   could hold rassilon dear   (   he does not have the master’s gift for   charm ,   after all.     indeed ,  the master has often thought that rassilon’s resentment towards him must stem from his jealousy over this fact   ) ,   the ginger woman’s words can only point to gallifrey’s lord high president.     ❛   you’ll be   disappointed ,   love ,  if you imagine I’ve any sway with   him.     he thinks me a traitor to my kind ,  and there’s no chance of him trusting me to introduce him to anyone ,  even if they do claim to know him.     my service to him is little more than  ------------   ❜   he begins ,  but the words continue to spill out of her ,  and soon a   NEW   picture starts to take shape. THE MASTER.
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his reaction to hearing his name from this stranger’s lips is   electric.     twin hearts seize ,  his every muscle tenses ,  the drums   pound ,  pound ,  pound   inside his head ,  louder than he’s ever heard them.     and then ,  in one swift motion ,  he rises to his feet ,  grabs her by the shoulders ,  and shoves her violently into the   raxicorican air trap.     her wine glass falls to the ground ,  shattering and leaving behind a small puddle of glass shards and sweet ,  fermented liquid.    now ,  he thinks ,  as he walks purposefully towards his new prisoner ,  crushing the glass fragments beneath his boots ,  now I will get my answers.     a sickening ,  sizzling noise fills the room as the trap does its work ,  seizing her muscles   &&   preventing her escape.     he moves to growl into the ginger’s ear.     ❛   how do you know that name ,  elian parker ?   ❜   he demands ,  all his earlier plans to   charm   the answers out of her quickly forgotten.     ❛   if you really knew the master as you   claim   to ,  you would know that he belongs to  NO ONE !   ❜      the drums ,  the drums !     he can barely hear his own voice over their din ,  and he screams   &&   brings his hands to his ears in a   (   futile !   )   attempt to stifle them.     as he does ,  he recognizes the familiar sensation of   regeneration energy   at work inside of him ,  being pumped by his twin hearts to every corner of his new body.     the new regeneration cycle ,  resolving itself.     like tumblers in a safe ,  clicking into position ,  one by one.     this voice ,  these eyes ,  these calloused hands.    they are  HIM  now ,  every bit as much as those accursed drums ,  or the lust for chaos   &&   power that follows him across lifetimes.     it has taken longer than expected   (   after all,  he’s been in this body for several days now   ) ,   but the final stages of this process are usually spurred on by some kind of   threat   to a time lord’s new body ,  and though she presents no   physical   danger to him ,  immobilized as she is .  the master cannot think of a greater threat to his existence   ------   to his   survival ,   in this very risky game he plays with gallifrey’s lord high president.    ❛   you   ---   are not   ---   a   time lord !   ❜   he gasps between waves of pain ,  gaze burning as he forces himself to straighten up ,  pulling his hands away from his ears.     one hand moves to the ginger woman’s pale throat as he looks directly into her eyes.      ❛   that much   ---   I can tell !     so what the hell   ARE   you ?   ❜
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chipmunkwrites-blog · 7 years ago
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sharkwrites.
there’s a little jump ,     as he snatches the papers from her hand ,     and a slight frown at the    thin  cut    which now appears upon the tardis’ palm.        ❛   well  …  master asked for tea this time yesterday ,     so I thought he might dreadfully like it today ,    as well   !   ❜        carefully ,     elian pours him a cup ,     sliding it forward before taking a small sip of her own.
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❛   and it really dreadfully    was    an accident ,    master  !      how was I meant to know that you’re meant to    watch     a stove while it’s hot ?     that hardly saves time at all ,    I think  …   ❜
cold eyes follow the tardis’ frown to the thin bead of   blood   that forms upon her palm.     it is lovely   ---   pure   &&   bright   ---   and without asking   (   or   apologizing   for being its cause   ) ,  he snatches her hand back ,  places his thumb over the cut until the flow of blood slows completely ,  and then holds that same thumb up to his mouth ,  licking away the blood that has been left behind.
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finally ,  the time lord reaches for the cup of tea she’s poured for him   (   unable to help the brief ,  contented   sigh   that escapes pale lips at the taste   ) ,  and asks pointedly ,   ❛   ------------   was there something   else   you wanted ,  elian ?   ❜
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chipmunkwrites-blog · 7 years ago
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sharkwrites.
❛   a   very  good  reason ,  master ?   ❜      a moment of panic seizes within her chest as she steps forward ,     nodding firmly.    smiling as she thrusts a silver serving tray forward ,    gaze scanning his desk for an empty spot upon which she might place it.       she settles instead ,     for clearing away a few stray papers.
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❛   yes ,     of course I do !   ————   it’s  tea  time ,    master.    have you forgotten  ?    what is it that you’re dreadfully working on ,    anyway  ?      i’ve been cleaning the kitchen  …  from my last    accident  …  ❜
❛   funny ,   that.    ❜   the time lord returns ,  narrowing his eyes at the ginger woman.     the spark behind them reignites as she   dares   to touch the documents sprawled across his desk ,  without his permission.     ❛   I don’t remember   ASKING   for tea   ...   ❜
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❛   ACCIDENT   ...   ❜   he repeats ,  one dark brow raised ,  as he roughly snatches the papers out of her delicate fingers.      ❛   is   that   what we’re calling it now ?   ❜
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chipmunkwrites-blog · 7 years ago
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with a soft growl ,  the time lord pushes aside the   blueprint   he’s been studying for the past hour ,  a   fire   burning behind his rich brown gaze as he slowly glances up at the ship.     a sharp edge lets his voice   cut   like a   dagger :   ❛   ------   you’d best have a   VERY GOOD REASON   for barging into my office   &&   interrupting my work ,  love.   ❜
@sharkwrites
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chipmunkwrites-blog · 7 years ago
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sharkwrites.
𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙳  𝚂𝙰𝚇𝙾𝙽.     𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴.       at least ,    the tardis    feels    as though she should know it.   ————   it seems every where she looks ,     there    he    is.     staring at her from the front cover of a magazine ,     speaking to the word of this new space program he’d begun.       fascinating  things ,      truly.    she understands ,    why so many find him captivating  …  a charismatic speaker ,    he’s able to capture the attentions of his audience.     and such a presence   !      at every street corner ,    she hears the whispers of human women who seem to marvel at the very sight of him as his admittedly quite dreadfully   handsome   features.        (   not that the newly - formed woman paid much attention to   that.  )       time goes on ,    and it becomes clearer and clearer that this man     must     know something of her time lord.
why else ,     would she find herself drawn to him ,      like a moth to a flame   ?       watching one television appearance after another ,    as though he were a craving she could never seem to satisfy.    perhaps ,    she thinks ,     they’d been working together.     perhaps her time lord’s scent lingered over this harold saxon ,     and that was what called the tardis to him.    ————    and she must be drawing closer   ;       for each and every night now ,      the time vortex calls to her.
give  up.       it does not   whisper   to her any more ,     has stopped using sweet tones and coaxing voices ,     in an effort to lure her away.        do  not  look  for  him ,     he  does  not  want  you   !          voice is harsh now.    clipped ,    agitated.        don’t  you  think  he  would  have  come  back ,      if  he  wanted  you   ?      and perhaps the vortex is right ,    she thinks.    but if it is ,     the tardis is determined to hear  him  speak it.    hear the words from his own lips ,    before she makes her decision.
it is weeks later ,    that the universe finally aligns      &&      presents the tardis with an opportunity that she cannot deny.        A  PRESS  CONFERENCE ,       to discuss saxon industries’ space program  …  and who else but harold saxon himself ,    would be in attendance   ?       but how to get in.      certainly ,    there would be security present.   ————   she has watched his interviews enough ,     to know that there are many on this world who do   not   agree with his views in regards to space exploration.     she would require something subtle.    something that would allow her to get close to him ,    without   …  oh !
two  days  later ,     the tardis finds herself walking effortlessly into a nearby hotel conference room ,    press badge bearing the name       ELIAN   PARKER      pinned to her chest.    turning the corner ,     she sees him standing at the very front of the room  …  and though her view is limited ,      despite arriving early        (   these reporters must have lined up overnight ,    for a closer spot   !   ) ,       one thing has become overwhelming clear ,    since arriving into the room.        𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝙲𝙰𝙽  𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻  𝙷𝙸𝙼  𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴.      𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁.           and even more than that  …  this harold saxon    must    know him ,      since his supposed space craft ,      is  hardly  a  space  craft  at  all.
it isn’t until the    end    of the press conference ,     that the tardis   ———   elian ,     she has now decided to call herself ,     steps forward.      head held high and pushing past row upon row of reporter.       ❛   mr . saxon   !   ❜       she exclaims ,     clearing her throat so as to draw his attention towards her.        she  can  feel  hope  stirring  within  her  chest.        in this moment ,     she is closer to finding her time lord than ever before  …  and she can practically taste it.        ❛   what an absolutely dreadfully wonderful design for a space craft   !   ❜       she smiles ,     swallowing hard in an attempt to hide her nerves.       ❛   I haven’t ever dreadfully seen something like    this ,    in such a terribly long time   !   ———   not  ever ,     I mean.   ❜        tentatively ,    elian steps forward.    and if harold saxon looks closely ,    he might see a glint of a    knowing  smile    slip across her features ,      as she speaks once more.
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❛   it’s only that it does awfully remind me of this  …  toy ,    that I used to have when I was just a little girl.       AN   ENVIRONMENT   CHARGE.        is that what inspired the design of it   ?   ———   if you do dreadfully have a moment  …  I’d like to ask you some questions in private ,    mr . saxon  …    ❜
he falls into his new role with ease.     ADAPTABLE ,  the master.     always has been.     of course ,  it doesn’t hurt that this new role is that of a   powerful   man.     he was made to be revered ,  after all.     even if it   does   eat away at his cold twin hearts ,  knowing that this power was not   earned ,   but   given   to him by rassilon himself.     it was hell ,  being a prisoner.     it is   worse   being a puppet.     but ,  as ever ,  he adapts.    he accepts his new circumstances   &&   waits patiently for the chance to twist them in his own favour.     he attends the board meetings ,  the product launch parties ,  the press conferences.     he is magnetic ,  mysterious ,  and in - demand   ------   front   &&   centre on every tabloid ,  interviewed on every evening talk show.     in short ,  all is going according to plan. until the interviewer with the fiery hair asks a question that topples all of the time lord’s carefully - laid schemes.  ❛   AN ENVIRONMENT CHARGE ?   ❜   he repeats ,  keeping his tone light.    if his surprise shows on his face ,  it doesn’t for   long ,   as the time lord quickly schools his expression into one of innocent confusion.      ❛   can’t say as I’ve ever heard of such a toy ,  love.     but then ,  I’m a fair bit   older   than you ,  aren’t I ?     possible it was after my time.   ❜     charming   (   fake !   )   smile brightens his pale features ,  blinding the press to his true intentions.      ❛   but if you’re fishing for an   exclusive interview   ---------   well ,  I’d be happy to oblige.     I admire your ambition ,  love.    I wouldn’t be where I am today ,  without ambition ,  now would I ?     gillian ,  my pr rep ,  will set up an appointment.   ❜ he makes it through the rest of the conference ,  barely ,  grateful that the remainder of the questions are the sort that he is asked ,  time   &&   time again   (   what are you working on now ?     are you seeing anyone special ?     how are you coping with your company’s unprecedented growth ?   ) ,  questions he can answer through sense memory alone ,  while the rest of his concentration is focused upon the ginger reporter.     she is   lovely ,  he’ll admit.     fresh - faced and bright.     and the way she carries herself   ---   like the charming victims that the killers and monsters   (   and the master himself !   )   always find themselves drawn to ,  in those horror movies that the humans are so fond of :    trusting.     submissive.     beautiful in suffering. he could use her. perhaps she   is   looking to expose him ,  but that does not mean she can’t be convinced to do otherwise.     at the very least ,  if he can get her alone ,  he can make her   talk.     make her tell him who put her up to this since ,  young as she is ,  he cannot imagine that she acts alone.
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❛   ELIAN PARKER   ...   that’s your name ,  yeah ?   ❜   he asks ,  when she joins him in the hotel’s lounge later that same evening ,  for the private meeting he has promised her.     he sits in a large wing-back chair ,  staring at the ginger woman ,  watching her closely as she settles in ,  and taking a long sip of his scotch before continuing.     his tone is light ,  as if were merely talking about the weather.     ❛   funny thing ,  that.     no one can remember putting your name on the guest list for this morning’s press conference.     and I did a search.     couldn’t find a single article written by an   elian parker.   ❜      he pours from a bottle of wine ,  gazing into the reporter’s green eyes and offering her a charming half - smile as he hands her the glass.     let her believe that they are   co - conspirators ,   rather than   enemies.    let her think that there might even be something of a   flirtation   happening here.     much more likely to share all her secrets ,  then.     let her believe she can trust him.     she doesn’t know ,  of course ,  that the room is rigged ,  a raxicorican air trap over each of the room’s two exits so that ,  if she tries to leave ,  she will instantly be hit with a nerve gas that will freeze her in place and cause her excruciating pain.     he   (   mostly   )   hopes it doesn’t come to that.    ❛   so tell me ,  then ,  elian parker   ---------   WHO ARE YOU ,  REALLY ?   ❜                          
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chipmunkwrites-blog · 7 years ago
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sharkwrites.
𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙳.    𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁𝚂  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙳.       the frigid air in the time vortex ,    swirling all around her.    drawing her in deeper with its sweet promises of warmth and comfort   ———   and to think she’d been foolish enough to believe such a thing.      (   she should know by now ,    that the vortex plays tricks upon the un - suspecting  …  upon the too trusting ,    and those full of hope.      she ,    is  all  three.   )       master.      she calls out into the vastness of space ,    un - surprised when the only response she receives is the whizzing of another space craft ,    flying too close to her.       how long as she been here now  …  how many faces had he gone through   ?       would he even come looking for her ,     after so long   ?       centuries.   all  of  them.   no.       the vortex replies.    her only source of companionship ,     become her most trusted confidante.       master.       stop calling for him ,     the vortex sighs.      he has abandoned you.     come ,   join me instead.
no.         all at once ,    the red telephone box floating in space     roars     to life.    for the first time in a long time ,     lights glow from inside the box ,     and there’s a whirring noise       (   the sound of a war - torn engine come to life  )       before the doors fling open and the box speeds through the vortex ,     collecting star - dust       &&       time - energy in its wake ,      gathering it in the ship’s very own console room    ;        a whirlwind of energy ,     cascading all around ,    seeping through the cracks in the ship   ————   FINDING  ITS  HOME ,      IN  A  PIECE  OF  TARDIS  CORAL  TUCKED  AWAY.      FORGOTTEN ,     UNTIL  NOW.       a piece of coral that ,    linked with the rest of the ship as she was ,    wanted     nothing  more     than to find a way to reunite with her time lord ,     once again.
the process is slow.    painstakingly so.     it is     decades     before the coral begins to take the shape of a woman    ;         a woman with hair as red as the box itself ,    skin as pale as the moon upon which the box rests ,    once it leaves the vortex ,     and eyes a shining green ,     like the star - dust that helps bring life to the small piece of coral coral.      and     decades  more     after that ,     that the very soul of the tardis herself begins to seep into this new body.
𝙰𝙽𝙳  𝚂𝚄𝙳𝙳𝙴𝙽𝙻𝚈 ,     𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝙸𝚂  𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶.       burning  with  life.      hot to the touch ,      as the newly - formed woman rises shakily to her feet and takes her first gasping breath ,     gazing around the room with wide eyes before rushing towards the console room ,    throwing open the doors and smiling wildly into the vastness of space.       ❛  thank  you ,     universe.   ❜       she murmurs ,    surprised to hear herself speak the language of her precious time lord out loud.        but this ,     this body ,     is only the beginning.     and first ,    she must take the time to learn how this body works.     what it needs to survive.       everything needs something after all ,      and if this pang of hunger in her stomach tells her anything ,    it is that she cannot survive only on the    hope    of finding her time lord.
earth.      he’d always liked earth ,      she remembers.     had delighted in watching it burn ,    ever since she’d taken him to see it as a time - tot.      and though this is not the     first     planet she has scoured in search for him ,     it brings her the most hope.       most of all ,    when out of the corner of her eye thetardis spots an electronic billboard.      unsure as to why it draws her attention ,     she pauses to watch the picture   …   as it shows the image of a man    ;       hair as dark as a black hole ,     piercing gaze.      commanding     gaze.      she   cannot   take   her   eyes   off   him ,       though the tardis hardly knows why.       when the image disappears ,     she turns to her left.        ❛   excuse me   ?       who  …   who was that man ,     the one on the billboard ,     with the black hair   ?   ❜
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the woman standing beside her looks at her as though she    must    be insane.      “  girl ,     are you from another planet ?!  “      she exclaims ,    earning her a sardonic smile from the red headed woman.      “  that’s     HAROLD   SAXON.      only one of the hottest figures to ever appearthis past year.      seriously ,     how could you not know   ?   “
❛   do you know where I might terribly find him  ?   ❜      the tardis frowns ,      thinking that there is     something     about him ,    that suggests he may know where her time lord is.
“   you’re out of luck girl ,     he literally    just    lefttown.      but he lives here so like  …  he’ll be back eventually.     why do you want to see him so bad  ?     you didn’t even know who he was  …  “
she’s already walking away by the time the woman has finished talking ,    waving her thanks and biting down upon her bottom lip.       I  just  need  to  ask  him  a  couple  questions  …             @chipmunkwrites
the drums ,  the drums ,  pounding ,  pounding ,  pounding ,  the drums pounding ,  endlessly pounding inside his head.     one two three four.     one two three four.     once ,  he was the cleverest of time lords.     destined for great and terrible things.     but that rhythm ,  inescapable even in   death ,   even across a string of broken   &&   rebuilt bodies   ---------   it makes concentration difficult.     one two three four.     one two three four.     it pushes him to the brink of   madness ,   a world full of shadows and phantom sounds.     a world   nearly   as horrific as the battlefield upon which he finds himself in his rare lucid moments.     one two three four.     one two three four.     and that is why he needs a   CAUSE.     something to which he can devote every fibre of his substantial intellect ,  his every waking moment.     an   escape ,   within his mind ,  from the wasteland to which his body is bound.     POWER.     across each regeneration ,  that is his only clear thought.     every star visible through the fire and smoke that fills gallifrey’s sky is   his   by right ,  every single soul on the battlefield ,  dalek and time lord alike ,  will one day kneel before him.     he counts them ,  inside his head ,  as dalek lasers miss his dirt - encrusted skin by mere inches.     one two three four.     one two three four.     as he tries   &&   fails to fall asleep each night ,  before being driven back out onto the battlefield with the coming dawn.     one two three four.    one two three four. he is not a prisoner he is not a prisoner he is not he is THE MASTER. he has lost much in this war :   all but one of the lives he’d been promised ,  upon graduating from the academy.     his ship.     his will.     his sanity.     and so when he wakes one morning on a soft hotel bed in the heart of london ,  universes away from the war - torn planet upon which he’d been loomed ,  he thinks it nothing more than another in a long string of   hallucinations ,   even if it is the first   pleasant   one he’s encountered.     warily ,  feet reach out to touch the floor.    warily ,  scarred hands reach up to touch his face ,  his hair.     solid.     the floor feels cold against the sensitive skin on the bottoms of his feet ,  and he winces as calloused fingers brush against a deep bruise under his right eye. impossible. master.     a voice   ---   soft ,  familiar   ---   seeps through his consciousness like blood through a vein ,  filling every empty crevice.     master.     that   IS   what you like to be called ,  is it not ?     pale, chapped lips curl back into a snarl.     new ,   that ,  but not unexpected.     after all ,   the animal inside   has always rested dangerously close to the surface of his consciousness ,  with only his will ,  his   sanity ,   to keep it at bay   ------   at least , when he chose to do so.     what ,  now , lay between him and that most primal of creatures ?     a soft chuckle answers him.     taunts him.     RASSILON. you recognize my voice ,  then.     a good start.     you have seen the state of gallifrey ,  master.     it does not have long.     you stopped the council ,  once , from wiping this planet clean   &&   turning it into a new home for the time lord race.     now you have a chance to make amends.     do exactly as I tell you ,  master ,  and you will be the architect of a golden age.     the earth will be destroyed.     the doctor will die.     just as you’ve always wanted. ❛   never   have   been one for   following orders ,   now ,  have I ?   ❜   he snaps , though the words come out as just a raspy murmur ,  as rich brown eyes scan the room for an exit. we are inside your head ,  master.     you won’t escape us. ❛   can’t blame a bloke for   trying   though ,  can you ?   ❜   he turns the knob ,  pulls the hotel room door open wide   ---------   only to find a massive crowd of   reporters   awaiting him on the other side.     eager voices rise in a cacophony of sound that still does not drown out rassilon’s delighted laughter inside the master’s head.     at least a dozen microphones are thrust in front of the time lord’s face ,  and the incessant flashing of cameras nearly blinds him.
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❛   MR. SAXON !     MR. SAXON !   ❜   the reporters cry out ,  battling against each other for the master’s attention.     ❛   how are you recovering from the accident ?   ❜     ❛   will the shuttle launch still be taking place as scheduled ?   ❜     ❛   any words for your shareholders after yesterday’s system failure ?   ❜ harold saxon ,   rassilon purrs inside his head.     billionaire ceo   &&   innovator of   SAXON INDUSTRIES.     the man behind the largest privately - owned space program on the planet.     and ,  in a month’s time ,  you’re going to debut a bold new shuttle design   ---------   only , the humans won’t recognize it as a   gallifreyan environment charge.     the entire population of the planet will be wiped out in seconds ,  leaving it primed and ready for the time lords to build their new empire.     elegant , don’t you think ?     and   you   get to be the one to pull the trigger !     the master ,  still unsteady on his feet ,  clutches the door frame to keep his balance. ❛   alright ,  alright ,  now !   ❜     a man   ---   hotel security ,  from the look of it   ---   gestures to the ravenous crowd of reporters to move along.     ❛   this isn’t a   press conference.     everyone out !   ❜ the words you’re looking for ,  master ,   rassilon’s voice ,  again ,  now baring an edge of impatience ,   are   THANK YOU.
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chipmunkwrites-blog · 8 years ago
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tags !!!
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