The Master (callmemaster) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2016-11-16 19:17:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !log, *crystal, *gail, *jen, jean grey, the doctor (12), the master |
November 16th time. Evening | location. The Master's Room
rating. PG-13 | status. Complete |
He said that I was a genius... stone cold brilliant... that I could be so much more... beautiful... He asked me to travel with him to see the universe and that he would help me with the noise in my head. The never ending drums that have sounded within my head since I was eight years old. That drumbeat tormented me throughout my entire life and everyone thought it was a sign of insanity. In the end, there was no choice. The Doctor or Rassilon... Rassilon or the Doctor. My oldest friend and greatest adversary, or the man who caused the drums and called me diseased. As Gallifrey went back to where it belonged, I felt myself being sucked back into hell with it. Something small and shiny was spiraling near me and as I grasped hold of it, everything went black. The Master groaned as he came to, opening his eyes and staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Where were Rassilon and the others? Where was Gallifrey? He rolled over and screamed in pain as the drumming began to pulse and echo in his head, fighting to be heard and to serve its intended purpose. "MAKE IT STOP!" he roared, falling off the bed and slamming his head against the floor as he tightly gripped his bleach blonde hair. The Master's form flickered, his outer skin fading away and revealing the translucent blue life energy encased his body, exposing his skeleton and internal organs. “Good Morning and Welcome to Atlantis! We know this must be unsettling but our people need you, and you need us. Here in Atlantis, we are fighting a war for the very survival of our people, and yours. You may not know how you came to be here, or that your world is in trouble but we are fighting to ensure the creativity of all worlds continues to thrive and grow." His brow furrowed in confusion as he lifted his head and spotted the small device sitting on the side of his bed. "Atlantis? How did I end up in Atlantis?" he muttered to himself. As he listened to the rest of the message, the Master scowled and attempted to remove the tracking the anklet that was securely fastened in place on his leg. "No... oh no, not again. No, no, NO!" he roared in frustration. "I'm not fighting in another war!" But what was the alternative? Get sent back to Gallifrey where Rassilon would most certainly kill him until he was out of regenerations again? The Master started laughing, his body flickering as he clenched and unclenched his fists. There had to be another option. He wouldn't be used as a pawn in someone's war again! |