thewarmaster-blog - Tumblr blog

[thewarmaster-blog]

 romanaofheartshaven‌:

It was as if the entire atmosphere had shifted — for a split second, the room ran cold, freezing over at her declaration.  The tension drew on, taut fit to snap.  A chill ran down the length of her spine, but her nerve held.  The Chancellery guard closest placed the restraints around the Master’s wrists, making certain not to maintain eye contact for too long as per Romana’s request.  The cuffs were keyed to the Time Lord’s bio data — should anything… happen along the way: they would know about it.

Not that she really suspected the Master fool enough to try anything yet.

But one could never be too careful, could they?

“Absolutely.  Do you have any preferences of reading material?” She asked nonchalantly, her tone smooth as silk and equally as soft, almost at ease.  “Perhaps the Art of War by Sun Tzu? Or is that a touch on the nose?” Romana’s mouth twitched with the threat of a mirthless smile at her jest.  She then returned her attention to the guards, melting back into all business and seriousness as she addressed them, “make sure that he isn’t seen.  Use the passages the Deputy Coordinator outlined — do I make myself clear? If you’re caught, I trust you understand what to do and what it could mean for us all?” They nodded sharply in turn, a hand each placed tightly on either side of the Master’s shoulders.  “Good.  Then I shan’t reiterate what’s at stake.  Dismissed.”

Her gaze caught his; even SHE could feel that — that pull.  “I shall see you soon, I expect.”

“Goodness me! All this cloak and dagger is really very invigorating, isn’t it?” The Master chuckled to himself as he was taken away, that ice had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. “Until we meet again, Lady Romana, I shall be looking forward to it.”

He made excellent small-talk with the guards, joking and laughing, entirely one-sided, naturally, only stopping when he was thrown into his cell and left at last to his own devices. The restraints clicked and allowed him to separate his wrists for now. He expected to find himself fatigued, but the regeneration was now little more than a buzzing beneath his fingertips, and his mind - never quiet - was still.

Three meals a day were brought to him by an ever changing routine of guards, and the war computer was heavily censored to keep sensitive information out of his hands, but on the fourth day he noticed something: he’d seen that guard before.

A tall, strong-looking androgynous Time Lord - they’d brought him breakfast two nights ago and here they were with dinner. The Master smiled and thanked them gratefully, then paid a great deal of attention to their footsteps as they left him. Light and fast. Perfect.

Time flew by now that he had something, however small it might be, to work on. He heard them talking sometimes in the dead of night, when they thought he must be asleep. Anxious mutterings, war worries, family based dread. Dull stuff. Dull, but useful.

It was another week before the opportunity presented itself with that evening’s meal.

“Ah - it’s you! Voss, wasn’t it?” There was no response, but the Time Lord couldn’t hide their surprise that he’d learned a name. “Oh, don’t worry, don’t worry! I had trouble sleeping the other night, you see, and I couldn’t help overhear... Well, these are tough times for all of us, but those on the front lines, your brothers, wasn’t it? Those are the true heroes.” 

There was a moment’s silence, a tension that the Master savoured. 

“And here I am, nice and safe. It’s just not fair, is it? After all the horrible things I’ve done. I have... not much, but enough shall we say, influence and wealth leftover from my youth, that I have absolutely no use for. It’s all just going to waste! So why don’t I give you the details, and then you can pass it on to your brothers. You get to help them and I get to tend to my conscience.”

“Go to Hell,” came the response. Then off won’t those footsteps.

The Master laughed. It was only a matter of time.

The Master Reborn

[thewarmaster-blog]

△ What's it like to fail and fail again in the quest for survival and power?

Fail? I’m alive, aren’t I? Alive and once more in a rather fitting Time Lord form.As for power, well, such things do take time. If only there were some kind of enormous, universal conflict going on that a devious chap like myself might be able to take advantage of. 

[thewarmaster-blog]

Send me a △ and ask a really invasive question aimed at my character

They’ll have to:

Rate on a scale of 1-10 how much they don’t want to answer that question.

Answer that question.

[thewarmaster-blog]

romanaofheartshaven‌:

Romana gave an incredulous laugh; really, she couldn’t help herself. The damn audacity of him.  How dare he think her idiotic enough to allow him access to HIS TARDIS, or to the Matrix — the war computers, perhaps, they could discuss that at a later date.  She had to be careful not to overplay the hand she was dealt — the President was not aware of his resurrection, nor was the War Council — and Romana planned to keep it that way for now lest the whole thing go — what was that phrase Ace used? Pear shaped.  He was only to be utilized when they were in the most dire of straits.

“You can’t be serious?” The incredulous-ness carrying from her laugh to her tone.  Romana’s brow furrowed; his voice was that of the silkiest velvet, rich and soothing and utterly, utterly, calm.  Naught a hint of malice was laced in his words.  It was incredibly deceptive.  Almost as if one listened long enough, they would be lulled into a false sense of security.  The Time Lady made a note to rotate his security detail periodically — that, or, put a muzzle over his mouth… now, that idea was rather an appealing one.  If a bit ludicrous.  “You think we’d just give you access to YOUR TARDIS? Let alone any sitting in the bays? Right from the get-go?  Come now.  Trust must be built, Master.  Surely you can understand our… position?”

“No.  You’re going to sit in your cell until I’ve need of you.  Of course, I will be able to procure you some comforts in the meantime.  For now, I think it best you REST.  Your… regeneration was a ferocious one,” she couldn’t help but be somewhat unnerved by his level headed-ness and apparent clarity, even if she would not openly admit it.“

There’s a moment’s pause, only a second, where the Master, while maintaining his soft smile and gentle demeanour, goes still. The air seems to have been sucked out of the room. His eyes flick to the guards; their guns; their throats. Then to Romana. When he speaks, any sign of his irritation has vanished.

“Of course, of course! You’re in charge, after all. Until you’ve seen fit to trust me, I’ll ask only for a cup of tea and perhaps something to read?” He turned to the guard closest to him, offered a smile and gestured with his arms to be restrained.

She would rotate the guards, that much was obvious, but he only needed a moment to find leverage, it wouldn’t be difficult at all once he had access to their computers. So many soldiers, so many families torn apart, all the more easy to manipulate. He just had to be patient. He could do that. This new incarnation really was rather calm.

He had to anticipate her anticipations, outmanoeuvre the Gallifreyan war front and defy everyone’s expectations of himself. That ought to keep him busy until the Doctor showed his head. 

The Master Reborn

[thewarmaster-blog]

Inktober 14: clock

[thewarmaster-blog]

the Derek Jacobi incarnation of the Master in UNIT: Cyber-Reality

[thewarmaster-blog]

brillicnt‌:

At this point, she would expect any kind of reaction. But seeing the expression on The Master’s face and the change in his voice? It was interesting. It gave her more information than she even realised. Moving forward again, she met his eyes, nodding slightly at him.

“Y’tellin’ me. TARDIS didn’t even have any trouble gettin’ here, either. So either I fell through a pretty big hole, or someone wants me here. I intend to find out. But– later.” She took a deep breath through her nose and somehow became even more fixated on The Master.

“This time in your life is very bad. The things you have to do, the things they put you through, everythin’. Time War brings out the worst in us, but– I just want you t’know, now I have y’here and I’m lookin’ at y’face to face… You are owed better than this. Much, much better. ‘Nd I’m sorry I didn’t see it before. I’m always so CAUGHT UP in m’self that I never focused on you - not as much as I should have at least.” She shook her head slightly. “But you’re not one t’have emotional convos at the best of times, let alone here, now. So let’s put a pin in it, ‘nd focus. Whether you lied to me back there about what’s going on right now or not - right here, right now, I have your back. No matter what. And considering this is the Time War, that statement means a whole lot more than it would do otherwise. So I’d take advantage of it if I were you.” She gave him a pointed look.

He tried listening to her, he really did, but it appeared that the centuries beyond the war had not changed the Doctor at all, and his least favourite Time Lord was still spouting the same old heroic spiel as always. As such, the Master found himself zoning out quite unintentionally, nodding along with as much forced politeness as he could, which, for the Doctor, was not a great deal.

“Rest assured, my dear Doctor, I’ll be taking full advantage of the situation.”

As if half an apology would ever be enough to settle the differences between them. As if there was anything the Doctor could say or do at this point to change the collision course the two renegades had been on for most of their lives now. No. There was no going back now. The Doctor had been offered time and time again the privilege of ruling side by side with the Master, and always his offer was rejected. 

He’d kill the Doctor, yes, eventually. After the war was won, after he’d made use of her unique mind to do what had to be done.

Without another glance back, the Master returned to climbing the stairway, up and up the tower, through doorwars and down further corridors, until the sound of panicked, hushed voices could be heard further down, and the constant crashing from the upper atmosphere sounded distantly; an ominous approach of destruction. 

[thewarmaster-blog]

brillicnt‌:

The Doctor watched as the other emerged from the cage. Never a comforting sight to see, least of all while they were in the Time War. But she simply rose her head and watched. Gentle looking or not, she wasn’t going to underestimate him. Not now, not ever. And as the other began to move, she instantly sprung into motion, walking behind him, following his every move. 

Was it worth it, telling him who she was? Or would it just mess up the future? 

She decided to take the bullet. Pausing at the stairs, she opened her mouth, beginning to say something before she saw that look, and the voice that travelled back to her. Closing her mouth, she just analysed him. Took him in. Best friend or not, it was scary to remember what he was capable of.

“It’s me.” She said, before sucking in some air and taking a few steps towards him. “It’s The Doctor. Not the best reveal of the century but– whatever. Y’should know; I know how this all turns out. I know about those drums, I know whether you live or die. ‘Nd I know just how much you hate this.” She shifted her head up slightly, allowing only a short smile. “I have no idea why I’m here, honestly. But here I am. So lead the way.”

The Master froze.

There was no denying it; no doubting it. He simply knew. Her revelation undid whatever restraint in his mind had been keeping him so blind. Everything she said was true, all of it. Worst of all, it placed him in the past. Something that had happened. Another mere historical event. The Doctor, but not his Doctor. His Doctor, from what he gathered, had renounced his title in order to wage war. Ever the coward.

They won, then. That’s what this means. The Doctor’s survival guarantees their victory. How terribly reassuring. The future looked so ordinary. 

The drums, though. He’d never told the Doctor about that. That almost managed to unsettle him, but he didn’t let it show.

“Doctor,” his voice lowered somewhat, the warmth no longer present, “I must say I wasn’t counting on this.”

[thewarmaster-blog]

brillicnt‌:

That was reassurance. A bit of knowledge. The Master may go back on it, and in all honesty, she was expecting him to. This was him at his worst. The Time War, the manipulation - the drumming. She wasn’t sure why she was here, what caused her to come and what she was doing standing in front of The Master at this particular point in their lives, at this particular point in the Time War. But all she could do was her best. And if that meant letting The Master out and keeping a close eye on him - that meant letting The Master out and keeping a close eye on him.

But then he ordered her. Do as your told. Won’t ask again. With a roll of her eyes, she muttered something under her breath before stepping backwards, and pointing the sonic at the lock. “I’m stayin’ with you.” She looked back at him. “Whatever’s happening, you’re not leaving my sight. Oh and, don’t order me around. You are the extent of my involvement. I’m not going to influence things more by running around like y’little pet. Okay?” She gave him a small look, lowering the sonic as the latch burst open. 

“–Do you even know who I am?” She asked, suddenly, realising that he actually hadn’t acknowledged her name, her status or even their past, throughout the entirety of the conversation. It had only just occurred to her. Moreso than the idea of having to experience part of the Time War again. 

“Who you are? My dear, I couldn’t conceivably care less.”

The light of her sonic screwdriver reflected in his eyes like fire, just for a moment, then the lock clicked and the Master slowly opened the door. He was at once a non-threatening figure; old and gentle looking, and entirely imposing once one looked beneath the surface. 

“Now, I have work to attend to. Shadow me all you wish; I shan’t be responsible for your safety, however.” He took off down the prison hallway, past a few cells each filled with no more than bones, then came to another locked door. With a flourish, he concealed the movements of his hands, keeping his back to her, then the lock clicked and the door creaked open. Easy as Pi.

The open door revealed a stone stairway flanked with flaming torches, one of which the Master took for his own to better light the way. He began to ascend the stairs with a haste ill-fitting of his apparent age, then glanced back at her with a look of utter contempt. His outline was pitch black in the light of the fire.

“Coming, my dear?”

[thewarmaster-blog]

brillicnt‌:

The Doctor’s eyes shifted to the tapping. Something that she was expecting at some point during this conversation. Glancing back towards him as he spoke, she couldn’t help but smile a bit. He was doing two things there. Guilt - people are going to die. And fear - the council. Neither of which she was going to rise to. Because there was something that she was trying to mentally prepare herself - ever since she had figured out that this was the Time War. And that was getting back into the frame of mind, that this was war. There were casualties. And while The Doctor wanted to help and save every single one that she could, she was more concerned with how much she could trust The Master to tell her the truth.

She shifted, leaning forward a bit, her eyes on his. “People die. This is a war. As for the council, they don’t scare me.” She glanced to his hand on the bar again, lingering there for a moment before tilting her head up, and looking back towards him. 

“The only way you’re going to get out of here is if tell me exactly what you’re going to do. What this great mission is. Who are you saving, how are you going to save them– because the thing is, Master, I know you. More than you’d like. And there’s no way I’m going to let you out of this cell without some kind of reassurance. You got that?” 

That actually made him laugh. A bitter, hollow chuckle that echoed around the confines of his dark cell. The cold disinterest in the casualties of war was one he’d come to expect from his fellow Time Lords, but not fearing the War Council was a rarity indeed. Perhaps this woman was, like him, another renegade. They were becoming more and more common these days.

She seemed old. That much he sensed. Older perhaps than any Time Lord he’d ever met, and there was something else, something his mind and his circumstances seemed to be refusing to let him piece together.

“The Daleks are bombarding the planetary shield. They’ll fracture it in a matter of hours. I happen to have obtained a few key Dalek codes that would prove rather troublesome if broadcast beyond the shield and into their fleet.” The codes were kept nice and safe within his mind, where no one could take them. “So long as the native population agree to my terms and the terms of the Council, they’ll be saved. But if you’d rather watch them all get exterminated I’m quite content to pull up a seat and join you.”

“If, however, you want to win the war, I suggest you do as you’re told, and open the door. You know who I am. You know what I can do. You know how vital my role in this mess is. I won’t ask again.”

[thewarmaster-blog]

rule page for anyone interested

https://thewarmaster.tumblr.com/rules 

[thewarmaster-blog]

brillicnt‌:

“Open the door.” He repeated softly.

Open the door. 

The Master was dangerous. And as much as she wanted to trust him, she knew that this was probably the most dangerous regeneration of all. It wasn’t something she wanted to poke, or mess with, or anger. If it was up to her, she’d just up, and leave. But The TARDIS was drawn here, without even so much as a fight, through the time lock. It was almost impossible for there to not be any kind of intervention, which meant that somebody wanted her to be here, at this point. OR… there was a breach in the seal. And her being there only proved that. If things could get in… things could get out.

And that was when she started to remember. The Time War was something that she had pushed to the back of her mind, dealt with in her stride. She didn’t think about it, beyond the amount it took to respectfully recognise the people who died every so often. But being here, seeing him? She closed her eyes, giving herself a small moment to process it and push those memories away.

It worked.

When the Master stood, The Doctor mirrored him, head tilting up slightly as she finally got a good look at him. This was definitely The Master. She was glad that at least her own judgements weren’t clouded.

“I can’t do that.” She took a deep breath, before instantly following up with a; “Not yet. Not ‘till I know everythin’ I need t’know. Sorry.” She gave him an almost sympathetic look. But she knew not to give The Master too much to pick up on. The more he knew, the more he’d use. “Let me rephrase the question from before. How long has it been for you?”

Who was this woman with her incessant questions? She didn’t have the manner of one of Cardinal Ollistra’s little pawns, nor the mad devotion of one of Rassilon’s fanatics. That outfit, like something pieced together by a lunatic from the last dregs of a charity shop. It stirred old resentments in the back of his mind. It almost looked like something he would wear.

The Master took a step closer to the gate between them, reaching out with a gloved hand to caress one of the bars. Tap, tap, tap, tap. 

“If you don’t let me out now, people are going to die, my dear. You and I last of all, I suspect. I’m here on behalf of the Time Lords to save these people and if you choose to complicate my mission... Well, the War Council don’t take kindly to traitors, do they?” He spoke quietly, his voice like silk wrapped around a dagger, enticing and uncharacteristically reasonable. 

“I’ll be delighted to answer your questions once we’re both safe. If you’d be so kind.”

[thewarmaster-blog]

brillicnt‌:

thewarmaster‌:

brillicnt‌:

@thewarmaster​

Good Lord, it was like listening to a scratched record - what a dreadful accent. Beyond that irritating detail there was something about her, something familiar, but for the life of him he just couldn’t place it. Time Lords these days were so hard to keep track of, always regenerating. In any case, he really didn’t like her tone at all.

“The Time War has raged for eternity. There’s not a moment in history untouched by it.” He leaned forwards in his cell, closer to the bars, those blue eyes narrowing. That was a sonic screwdriver. “Open the door and I’ll be more than happy to answer your questions. I’m on a secret mission, you see.” He sounded far too jovial about that. Any man who could sound close to gleeful in times as dark as those couldn’t ever be trusted.

There was something off about her. The way she spoke of the war being sealed. Yes, that was common knowledge, they’d done so to keep the Daleks away from Gallifrey’s past, but what else had she said? I’m not supposed to be here. Those words took hold in the Master’s mind and brought with them a number of dangerous, troubling ideas.

He stood at last and approached the bars. He was well dressed, in a three piece black suit of velvet, with white hair and a beard to match. He was unmistakably and immutably the Master, but if he recognised her, he didn’t show it.

“Open the door.” He repeated softly.

[thewarmaster-blog]

brillicnt‌:

@thewarmaster​

Being confined to a cell was not precisely part of the Master’s plan, but it was a surprise he took in his stride. What good were plans if one was unable to adapt them on a whim, after all? He could escape, of course, but truthfully, he was happy to lurk and wait for his captors to come crawling back to him.

Oh, yes, they’d return. This world wasn’t safe. The planetary shield would crack in a matter of hours without his assistance and the primitive little natives would be wiped out. All he had to do was wait. They’d turn over what he wanted and in return he’d save them. Perhaps. If the mood struck. Truthfully he was still mulling over just what he was going to do to them when he heard it: that wheezing, groaning, sputtering sound. A TARDIS. An old one, from the sound of it. A rescue mission? For him? How touching. 

A woman’s voice. A woman? Alone? This was going to be too easy. Something buzzed on the other side of his cell and the appearance of a sudden torch gave him plenty of shadows to lurk within; a set of piercing blue eyes in the darkness gazing out. 

“Oh dear. Are you here to rescue me?”

[thewarmaster-blog]

romanaofheartshaven‌:

For the first time since their conversation had started that question elicited something from the Time Lady.  A flash of unreadable emotion flickered behind her eyes, gone as quickly as it had manifested.

“— — Off world as per usual.  You can’t honestly think that he’d willingly involve himself in this?  Quite the contrary.  He’s trying to put as much distance between himself and the Time Lords as possible,” what she didn’t say, was that she couldn’t blame him for his decision, especially with the power mad WAR COUNCIL becoming all the MORE powerful every passing micro span, “he helps where he can, but otherwise…” Romana trailed off clasping her hands tightly at the small of her back as if to keep herself in check.

“As you can imagine, the Time Lords are hardly the most… popular beings across the universe at the moment.  Not that we were before this conflict started, but this certainly isn’t helping things along.  The lines are becoming blurred.  The Time Lords are losing sight of who they truly are… and it’s — it’s — terrifying.  I don’t know if we can win this war.  And if we can’t… well, that’s the end of everything.” 

“Indeed,” the Master’s tone was initially one of utter apathy. How dare he not be here for this. The thought of the Doctor fighting a war, however, that almost made up for the sheer rudeness his archenemy was displaying. “Of course,” his tone shifted one of grave concern, “all those countless innocent lives lost, worlds destroyed in senseless acts of depraved violence - dreadful business, just dreadful.” He sounded sincere, but he always sounded sincere.

For a moment the Time Lord stood still. It was remarkable how composed he was mere moments after regenerating; resurrecting, even. But the Master’s focus kept him steady, it drew the eye and mind to his voice and will. Even for the initiated, he had an unnervingly comforting way of speaking, a certainty that made you want to put him in charge.

“Worry not, Lady Romana,” he said, “you have my full support. I’ll need only a handful of things to assist me before I can assist you. Namely, my TARDIS and access to the Matrix or at the very least your war computers.” 

The Master Reborn

[thewarmaster-blog]

romanaofheartshaven‌:

Romana did not look away.

“For war,” she stated simply, not willing to give him too much detail too soon, “painful as it is for me to admit, you are one of the most brilliant minds the Time Lords have ever created.  Strategic, logical, cold and above all: ruthless — more or less perfect.”  And given that the Doctor didn’t want to involve himself in anything at all relating to the war — her only choice.  She nodded to the guards on either side of the Master, “Now, these two gentlemen are under strict instruction not to let you out of their sight.”

She leaned in close, and Narvin cleared his throat rather pointedly.

“They are not susceptible to your brand of… suggestion, so I would abandon that train of thought if I were you.” The Time Lady straightened, satisfied that she had covered all her bases for now.  He wouldn’t try anything, at least, not yet: she wasn’t fool enough to think he’d sit quietly in his cell like a good little solider, however.  Oh no, she knew he would bide his time… he’d help, of course, as long as it was in his best interest to do so.  “They’ll show you to your new accommodations, and I’ll leave you to get settled in, shall I? Any questions?” 

The Master couldn’t help but chuckle at that, as if this were a social gathering of old friends sharing a joke from years past. Suggestion, was it? Clearly they had him entirely figured out. Nothing to do now but line up and do as he was told, for the good of the war effort. 

War. Yes, he’d assumed as much. That had been looming for a long time now and was the only thing dire enough for these circumstances. The Master was amused as anyone to find himself more than happy to support the Time Lords. They were, after all, his side. For the moment at least.

“Such suspicion!” His tone remained light and far too warm. ”Did I not make it clear to you all? I’m better now.” He didn’t expect them to buy it for a second, but it was true. Partially. He was better in all the ways that mattered to him and worse in the ways that would matter to those who stood in his way. 

“These are to be my plucky companions?” He regarded the two for a moment, then shrugged. “I suppose they’ll have to do, won’t they. But I do have one question. I have to admit, I was expecting to see someone else here when I opened my eyes.”

“Where is the Doctor?”

The Master Reborn

[thewarmaster-blog]

- “So, whose side are you really on?” - “Mine.”