paradisalogs | Haunted Memories

Who: The Master and Open to All
What: Nightmare
When: During the nightmare plot
Where: The Death Zone on Gallifrey
Rating: PG-13/R Mentions of body-snatching, zombification

The Master believed he was waking and screamed. It was a short sound, quickly and ruthlessly surpressed, but it was telling that the Master made such a noise at all. Even his iron will could only endure so much pain. He looked down at his body and shuddered in disgust. He was still wearing the velvet finery from Traken, but his body...was from before. He was, now, wasted, looking like a rotted corpse. The pain was just as he remembered it and his hatred flared, hot and furious. Life and beauty were vicious mockeries and ones he wanted to punish.

The Master's mental ranting was cut short by voices. Turning, he saw a squadron of Cybermen approach. They were in sad shape. Each of them had burns on their bodies. They looked like they had been electrocuted and, indeed, they had. The Master had used them to get safely across one of Rassilon's traps, had cunningly led them to their deaths, when they thought him their prisoner. It seemed they would get a chance at revenge.

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"Precisely," the Master gloated. "That is the point of a game, after all."

"True."

Hank looks him up and down.

"...Sure you're healthy enough for this?"

The Master glared.

"Of course I am. My mind is all I need. With it, I'll find a new body to replace this rotting corpse. There is nothing here that will defeat me."

He quirks his brow.

"I think I remember you mentioning something like that. Mind transference, eh?"

"Yes," the Master boasted. "I stole my body, the one you've seen, off of a foolish Trakenite, who was about to condemn himself, willingly, to sit in a chair for a thousand years, so he could be the guiding impulse of his people."

"You can do this at will?"

The Master glowered at him, answering shortly.

"No. Not 'at will.' It takes power, power above even what I ordinarily can wield. When I stole Tremas's body, I used the power of the Traken Source. Still, the universe is full of power. I need only find some."

Hank grumbles.

"Damn. We could've used that. It wouldn't have been overly difficult for me to fashion you a body like mine back in Paradisa.

Oh well. Now, where's this tower?"

"It's on Traken, billions of miles from here and might not even exist in the reality of Paradisa," the Master said, impatiently. "The Tower is in the center, the very center, of the Death Zone. We go east."

Edited 2012-11-01 04:06 (UTC)

Hank looks off in that direction.

"Then lets go. If I carry you, we'll be there in no time."

The Master frowned. "Carry me? I'm perfectly capable of walking."

He shrugs.

"If you insist."

Ugh, this was gonna take forever. He hopes this place was close by.

"Unless you can fly or something equally useful, then yes, I insist. I'm a bit old to be riding piggy back."

"Well, now that you mention it..."

Granted, he wasn't sure if all his powers still worked here, but everything seemed to be fine so far.

The Master stopped, interested.

"You can fly? Well, that would be useful. For that, I would sacrifice a bit of dignity."

"I wonder what the most dignified way to go about this would be..."

Bridal style, maybe? If only there was a chair or something around.

The Master sighed. "Probably having me on your back." Bridal style? Only if you're the Doctor.

"Good choice." Maybe?

Whatever, Hank will use his speed to quickly scoop the Master up and set off towards their destination.

The Master gritted his teeth, feeding the agony of Henshaw's touch into anger and hatred, a determination to win, at all costs.

"Keep alert. There are traps here for those in the air, as well," the Master cautioned, his voice rough.