ext_1010259: (Soft smile)
http://shout-geronimo.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] shout-geronimo.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] paixaorpg2011-07-11 07:48 pm

One, Two, Three, Four [Active]

Character(s): The Eleventh Doctor and the Master
Content: The Doctor and the Master run headlong into the inevitable.
Setting: Jogo da Crianca
Time: Evening, Week 33, set directly after this log.
Warnings: Shouldn't the Master be warning enough?

The Doctor hadn't had that much fun in ages, and if he knew anything, it was fun. He laughed a little to himself as he walked his bicycle back in the direction of his TARDIS, which he'd decided to hide in some tiny, insignificant nook of the city; no sense in letting anyone see it who didn't need to. He'd need to pick up Rory, too - it had been something he'd been putting off for awhile. He'd never really liked interacting with his future, for the most part; aside from the obvious problem of potential spoilers and possibly tearing a hole in the universe, he just plain felt uneasy. Sure, there had been exceptions, but the Doctor wasn't quite sure this qualified as one.

Oh, well. Time enough for that later. He doubted picking Rory up this late was in the picture, but tomorrow wasn't exactly out of the question. Shoving the worries he had regarding that from his mind, he whistled a jaunty tune to himself as he turned to cut through the park, a hand coming up to adjust his newly-acquired fez.

There was no question about it: tonight was a good night.

[identity profile] mastertemplate.livejournal.com 2011-08-27 03:06 pm (UTC)(link)
HOPE

The word infuriated The Master for some reason. Perhaps it was the total lack of faith he inherited at the malicious hand of the Time Lords before him. More than likely, it was that he was forever an outcast from the moment he was placed before the titanic power of the Untempered Schism. Still, when The Doctor touched this nerve, he could not help but lash out.

Slamming his hands on The Doctor's shoulders and wrenching his fingers until the tweed on the other Time Lord's jacket was on the edge of fraying, The Master nearly lifted The Doctor off the ground with cathartic rage. "THIS IS WHAT YOU CALL ALIVE?" he shouted as heis face once again dissipated for a flash and showed a fluorescent skull with eyes bulging in anger, "YOU WANT TO LIVE LIKE THIS?"

He shoved The Doctor away from him and began pressing and sliding his hands against each other, now crackling with energy from his own life force. "I can make that happen."