jailedmonsters - Tumblr blog

[jailedmonsters]

The man scoffed, frowned again, and quickly turned away from the Time Lord to continue his rushed task of twisting wires together.  The little machine was a weapon that could easily wipe out the memories of everyone within a sixty mile radius—Time Lords included if he made any mistakes.  "Listen to you prattle on some more about why I'm wrong?" He probably could have been taken by surprise; he wasn't exactly 'feeling focused.'

He turned harshly from the device he’d been frantically building. “Don’t tell me what I don’t need to do.  You do that far too often.”

[jailedmonsters]

He turned harshly from the device he'd been frantically building. "Don't tell me what I don't need to do.  You do that far too often."

"Stop it. Stop it, you don’t need to do that."

[jailedmonsters]

((Just a reminder that I'm in college and finding the time to write is extremely difficult; there is always a test or a project to worry about in this program. You may see me respond more easily to one liners while I'm still getting used to all of this school work.  I'm really sorry but I promise I have all my threads in my drafts and I'm still interested in roleplaying with you!))

[jailedmonsters]

Ugh a smile in response to the name he used was worse than the Doctor's rapidly deteriorating condition.  He loved the expression and he hated it (even when it wasn't tainted with traces of blood and vomit).  It was all the Master could do to watch the brunet descend closer to his end, and closer to leaving the bitter man behind.

No. There was no way he would allow Theta to die.  At least—not like this.  All of his fingers ran through the Doctor's hair, curled, and gripped the dark strands tight (though the pain would be nothing compared to what the poison was putting him through).  Koschei leaned in to the Time Lord's face with his eyes narrowed and filled with the deepest of fear.  "You can fight this, because if you die and leave me behind I'll destroy the universe in your name." A grimace. "I'll start with Earth."  The warning was deep, bitter, and intimate.

The machine beside them dinged and Master roughly tore away. The screen came up with the results and almost immediately after that a syringe filled with a red substance popped up from a tube. "You wouldn't happen to have chocolate lying around?" He was quickly prepping Doctor's skin for the injection, which he quickly poked into an arm.  With the antidotes pumping through the Doctor's veins he asked again, "This should help with everything but chocolate would speed things up for the Aspirin." Aspirin. Why was he suffering with such deadly things? "How exactly were poisoned so badly in the first place?" The blonde fisted his hands tight to try and stop their fearful, and angry, trembling, but he couldn't keep the emotions entirely from his voice.

He could kill.

Closed rp- Needing a cure

He was breathing painfully. He knew that deep down his friend was still in there, he missed his Koschei.  But he wasn’t sure he would get him back. He wasn’t sure if the Master would admit anything. He knew the other covered things by lashing out in anger. He coughed again, Moaning as the pain got worse , he curled up shivering. His body had been posioned by Aspirin as well as some other type of posion deadly to time lords. He whimpered again.

He was feverish and in pain. He leaned over the side and coughed up blood and began throwing up in a bucket. His skin was pale and he was all clammy. The pain he was in was quite severe. “I don’t like being a bother to anybody.” he flopped back into the bed and closed his eyes, He was aching and in pain. "Time is not the boss of me… Have plently of time." He rasped. "Can fight this…," he was determined he wouldn’t die. He coughed "I’m the king of ok," he closed his eyes more, He was not doing to well. He knew that he would be feeling worse as time went on. He heard the Master call him Theta, that brought a smile to his face.

[jailedmonsters]

((Aw man, school will be the end of me.  I'm going to try to write some stuff tonight or tomorrow maybe. QoQ  I'm so sorry!))

[jailedmonsters]

(( I'm so tired from homework today so I can't promise I'll get any writing done tonight.  Sorry, guys. ;w; ))

[jailedmonsters]

Time Lords weren't like human beings; they could take in extremely deadly substances and conditions and still manage to pull through.  Something that would kill a human in seconds could still be ejected from the Doctor's body before it ended him.  Of course, that by no means meant that they were invincible; the brunet could still die, but the Master had more time to help him before it was considered too late.  And helping him was something he wanted to do, because he didn't really want the Doctor dead.

The snatched blood and saliva samples were hastily fed into the medbay equipment—even with his fingers trembling in fear.  Hopefully the TARDIS would be able to identify what was ailing his childhood friend and assist them in producing an antidote.  But there was yet more time they had to give to the process, so while the fluids were being processed the Master stood at the other man's bedside and just... stared at him.  His face no longer held a self satisfied smile, as it so often did.  Instead he looked like distress buried under a mountain of fury and denial (he was angry that he cared enough to worry).

"It's always 'sorry this.'  'Burden that.'  'Let me help you' blah blah blah."  Watching the brunet lay there in such agony was doing things to the unstable lord.   Lips parted and he murmured, "Do you ever stop talking?"  His pale, quivering hand reached out and rested against the sick man's forehead.  "Shut up this once.  You're on the brink of death, Theta."  The Doctor's name slipped from the blonde's mouth before he could control it so, naturally, he panicked and bit his tongue.

Closed rp- Needing a cure

The Doctor was shaking. He hated feeling awful. He knew the Master was at least clever and likely to know more than most his human friends he had in the past. He was coughing voliently. He stilll was struggling to cope with the posion that was in his body. He knew he was in need of some serious medical help. He was a bit upset from feeling so miserable. He was wondering of the Master was amused by his suffering or just thought of him as a burden.

"Yeah I know," He coughed more "Sorry if a burden or nuisance." He closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to be a problem for the Master.  He groaned and lay there. "Yeah probably did." He whispered. "Once I am sorted. You can take a nap if you want." He thought the Master would be tired after all that. He curled up a bit. The younger time lord was in alot of pain.

[jailedmonsters]

He had taken a careful step back, just one stair, when the rock vanished.  The Time Lord didn't want to go and tear apart every atom in his body by mistake or anything!  He still had a planet to run and destroy!  But he did want to dare hanging around, just for a little bit longer; he would let his detector record the readings for more accuracy on any changes.  It would definitely be more helpful to get a head start on learning how the tear might behave as this timeline passed.  While his wonderful little box did that, the Master rummaged inside of his jacket with his free, gloved hand.

The man retrieved a pen and pulled the cap off with his teeth.  He was being thorough by  jotting his coordinates just above a wrist. One could never be too sure if a building housing a disturbance in the fabric of the universe would still be there another day!  "I think I found my new best frie-"  The end of his sentence got caught in his throat, for he raised his eyes and they locked with another set of eyes.  Another set of very familiar eyes.  His hearts felt like they had stopped (the drumming, however, pounded on without interruption).

Every movement (apart from the swiftness with which he ripped off his mask) slowed so that he only made careful, deliberate motions.  His lips pushed together in the form of a tiny "o" and then he blinked, confused.  "... No."  The word was growled to communicate the utter disbelief and excitement taking over.  "Can't be."  He was looking at himself!  A much dirtier, poorly dressed, blonder version of himself, but himself nonetheless! 

A smile gradually took shape on his lips—it was nothing but pure mischievousness—and the device was lowered to his side.  "Well hello there, me."

shredding worlds || closed

Well. He’d certainly made a tear, that much was evident, but aside from that, there was little to suggest that his endeavours were working. He shook the device in his hand vigorously, his jaw tightening. No change on the gage. Something was wrong. He wasn’t harnessing any power from the rift he’d made. It was just there - shimmering and gaping and provoking an instinctively uncomfortable response from deep within his gut.

Letting out a savage growl, he lashed out an arm into the nearest thing to him - an empty oil drum; part of the furniture in his makeshift laboratory/workshop/shelter out in the middle of nowhere. It toppled with the force, making an unsatisfying crash. What now? The Master was growing more and more desperate, as though he were racing against time. Truthfully, it was likely he had all the time in the universe, but very ragged patience. He wanted the Doctor here, and now, and trapped forever. A tear in the very fabric of reality could achieve this firstly by catching the Doctor’s attention and drawing him near, and secondly by generating the energy he needed to power up the device he had crafted - a device which would, quite simply, fix both Doctor and TARDIS in place.

But something was wrong. He’d made a mistake somewhere - no energy was being harnessed. He’d have to close it, and begin the whole effortful process once more. The former would have to be done swiftly - he didn’t want to catch the Doctor’s attention prematurely.

He stared loathingly at it, before making moves to start the process of sealing it back up - when, quite startlingly, something whizzed from it, skidding to a halt at his feet. He looked at it, emotionlessly, and then looked back at the tear. His next conclusion was an interesting on: someone on the other side knew, or at least suspected, what the tear was. Or, less excitingly, it was a coincidence.

He considered for a moment or two.

Well. There was every harm in the world to be done by checking, to himself and to both universes. So, naturally, he moved nearer, and leaned right through.

[jailedmonsters]

shredding worlds || closed

saxoner

This was so strange. He stopped, backtracked, and checked the readings again.  And then again.  They were coming from the basement.  He tilted his head up from the metal device in his hands and squinted down the flight of stairs.  Things all over town had been acting up in an interesting way and The Master simply could not resist investigating it; he wanted to find the source of this fun.

So there he was—finally—standing at the landing of the old, dusty stairs, a box blinking and beeping frantically in his fingers.  Excitement flooded his system.  "Found youuu."  The brunet practically sung his words, which eerily echoed back; he could use this!  There were countless projects he could kickoff with his very own tear in the fabric of reality.  The energy he could siphon from it!  He didn't feel concern for the people of the universe, or for people in general really, so why not play with this?  It could be a party!

He was at the outskirts of town, inside an old, dilapidated building.  He'd come alone—even Lucy wasn't waiting for him in his car.  The Master hadn't really been fond of the idea of sharing his initial discovery with a human being.  He would just tell her later that night, over dinner.  The politician took precautions though!  It was in the form of a mask over his mouth and nose, and rubber gloves on his hands, to protect his body from asbestos and other contaminants.

Before heading home, however, he wanted to get a closer look.  What was the point of finding a weakness in space and time and then not so much as checking its approximate dimensions?  'Saxon' smiled, lowered his body, and picked a rock up from the concrete floor.  Then, carefully, he descended the stairs until he was two-thirds of the way down and tossed the stone at the unstable space.  The air convulsed and devoured it.  "Now behave yourself!"  The man laughed.

[jailedmonsters]

Oh, he didn't remember him.  The shorter man grinned playfully at the other and moved forward; this could be fun.  "You shouldn't just leave your things sitting around."

The Master examined his nails; how little he cared about this old man’s schedule.  “Are you accusing me of stealing it?”

[jailedmonsters]

The Master examined his nails; how little he cared about this old man's schedule.  "Are you accusing me of stealing it?"

"Maybe I did; maybe I didn’t.  Such a pretty thing, that box."

[jailedmonsters]

"Maybe I did; maybe I didn't.  Such a pretty thing, that box."

jailedmonsters

"By chance you haven’t seen a blue box around here have you?"

[jailedmonsters]

Luckily (or unluckily) for his 'old friend', the blonde man wasn't an idiot.  He was much more knowledgeable, and as such much more useful, than the brunet's silly human companions.  "Yeah, yeah."  The apology was brushed off as unimportant.  Funny how the Doctor always preferred to travel with girls, and now that he needed them they were nowhere to be seen.  'Fairweather friends', the man jokingly thought to himself. The Master assisted the Doctor with stumbling aboard, traversing the clanky, metallic floor in search of the medical bay, and helping him to rest against the bed.

The shorter Time Lord grinned—despite his exertion and sweaty, glistening skin—with enjoyment at the fact he could now peer over his ill companion (did he think 'companion'? He meant 'nuisance.'  Yeah).  Too bad that fun was tainted with the very real concern that he may never see him again.  It was odd how he craved their meetings—their conflicts.  "Your previous form was basically a stick."  Koschei commented lightheartedly to mask his worry, though he was working quickly to gain samples from the Doctor and activate the machinery for a diagnosis.  "You probably weighed less."

Closed rp- Needing a cure

theloneliestman:

[x]

The Doctor was shaking, He knew he was going to die. But he wasn’t going to give up, there was plently of time. There was still hope, he could still find a cure. He just needed a bit of help. He was panting. He really wished that he didn’t have to deal with this. He was sure that he was too heavy for the Master, he could see that he was struggling to help him. The time lord knew that he needed to get to the TARDIS. Once at the TARDIS, he pulled out the key and opened the door. He was shaking. “I’m sorry.” he whispered. He didn’t want to be a burden for the Master, he was wondering why the Master stuck by him instead of leaving him to die. He coughed. “Once to the medbay I can figure out what this posion is and how long I have and whether I can get a cure in time.” He coughed and headed inside.

[jailedmonsters]

GASP should I dedicate this blog entirely to The Master?

Hhhhhhhh I'm still trying to see if I can even play him well, honestly.

Or are there already way too many Masters?  I don't actually know. @n@

[jailedmonsters]

More coughing. More blood. The red flecked the streets they walked on each time the sick man suffered a nasty fit.  "I can see that."  He grunted the words and hurried them both from one side of the street to the other.  There didn't seem to be anyone around but he kept a paranoid eye out anyway—peered around every building corner before leaving any alley—just in case.  Doing all of this while supporting a fully-grown Time Lord on one's shoulder wasn't an easy task, and soon the blonde man was sweating nearly as much as the brunet.

He struggled with the man for two blocks before they reached the old school. He took the Doctor around the back and fell against the blue door with him—exhausted and breathless.  "I don't have a key so open up, would you kindly, Doctor."  Even when he was tired and gasping for air he could use that mockingly sing-songy voice of his.  "I can feel you trembling against me; you're rattling me to the bones and that means it really isn't good."  Master emphasized his words with a brief widening of his eyes.  He didn't want to be worried.  He didn't want that knot in his gut.  He didn't want this panic he worked so hard to hide behind anger and taunting expressions.

Closed rp- Needing a cure

[x]

[jailedmonsters]

He stared the sick man down; vicious thoughts were reflecting back to the Doctor—communicated purely through his dark and tired eyes.  It was noted that, with how the other's body quaked and quivered, he wasn't long for this universe. It would be so easy.  The mentally unstable man could strap him down and watch him perish—all on his own.

But all that whimpering brought sadistic glee to the Master's face.  Both hands reached forth now so that they could grip the ill man's lapels.  Using that leverage, he pulled himself in close and uttered a low (and very, very mad), "Well stand up then."

With that he harshly slipped his arms under the Doctor's and hauled him up, growling roughly with the effort.  He stood for them both, without mercy for how difficult it probably was for the man (did an act of mercy really require more mercy?), and repositioned himself to support Eleven at his side.  "You're heavier than you look."  Master grumbled and chortled bitterly, and yet he was helping his nemesis—leading the way even—back to the TARDIS.  "You left it near that schoolhouse, didn't you?"

Closed rp- Needing a cure

[x]

[jailedmonsters]

The blonde man's head cocked to one side. He felt a certain degree of concern—actual concern—and this in turn made him irritated. He was angry with the Time Lord for being sick!  For elevating the rate of his hearts with such ease!  "Do you know what it is? Or do you expect me to figure all that out for you?"  He grit his teeth and lowered himself so that he was closer to eye-level with the other man.  A hand reached out and roughly took hold of the Doctor's chin so that he could examine the blood flecking his lips.  "Or shall I leave you here to die?"  A small smirk flashed across his features—how grand it would be to feel nothing at all!

open rp- Needing a cure

"Well no…, I’m dying." Eleven gasped when asked if he was ok. He coughed up blood. He knew the illness was going to kill him slowly. That was unless he got a cured. He knew getting cured from this wasn’t going to be simple. He was unable to get up from the floor easily and was shaking, he felt weak and in pain. The time lord was sweating and looking rather miserable.