|The Master (chess_master) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2012-01-12 17:48:00
|Entry tags:||jim moriarty, the master|
Who: Master and Moriarty
What: The Master is rather lost trying to get used to the no drums thing. And he's attempting to be good!
When: This evening
Where: A park not that far from the complex
It was incredibly strange, this silence in his head. The act of thinking without being interrupted by the ever-constant beat of four. The transition was scary. Was this really how it felt to be a Time Lord? There was nothing driving him past the breaking point anymore, and he was desperately trying to move back towards the edge and pull himself up again. But this thing he was doing, self-discovery was it? It was far harder than he had ever envisioned it being. Romana was supportive, which he was thankful for. He hadn't yet told the Doctors about it, or anyone else for that matter. Not that he'd even tell anyone other than the Doctors, and even then, he was wary of the Ninth Doctor. He knew Ten's feelings towards him, and he was guessing Eleven's might be somewhat similar to Ten's. For the time being anyway. He hadn't made a move against anyone recently, which normally meant he was scheming. And at least until he'd made his Christmas wish, he had been secretly scheming. But now? Now he was trying to find himself again.
As ironic as it may be, he was trying to change. For this moment in time, he wanted to be good. He wanted to be what he was meant to be. He wanted to be like the Doctor, intelligent and loved, not feared. Though given the past nine hundred years of his existence he'd been a psychopathic mass-murderer, among other things, and it was hard to just leave that all behind. Despite his wanting to be good, he still lacked a conscience. Developing one would be crucial to whether he would ultimately be good or evil. And as far as he knew, Romana would be the only one that would help him try to develop one. He didn't expect anyone else to support him. He was well aware of the atrocities he'd committed in the past. There would always be people who would hate him. This was a fact he accepted, and would just do his best to find his place again.
Currently, he was sitting in a park, watching the people go by. He'd always had a dislike of humans, thinking they were far inferior to him. But now as he sat there, he wasn't hating them like he once had. Instead, he was watching and taking in the human interaction they all exhibited. It was strange that he was actually watching and trying to learn instead of plotting someone's demise. The urges were still there, of course. Those wouldn't go away overnight, especially when they had been his default setting for so many centuries. But for now, he was keeping himself occupied by actually being curious about humans. Perhaps they weren't as bad as he'd originally thought they were. Perhaps there was a reason the Doctor had always done what he could to help them and why he'd always taken them as companions. As he sat on the bench, there was merely curiosity in his demeanor. There was no malice to be found. And that in and of itself, was a hard won battle in his internal struggle.