Whotopia 1.2.4
He can almost imagine that he feels the blood on his hands when he stands at the window, the static impression of the occasional scream below ringing out from the CCTV. It makes him smile; a cruel, dark thing that makes the guards step back and Lucy's arms tighten around him.
Perhaps the blood will turn the grass red without his help.
He leans forward, hand pressed against the glass, fingers tapping the consuming rhythm against Lucy's hip, babababa. Somewhere down there, below the clouds, the world is listening to his drumbeat. They move to it without knowing it's there, driving their thoughts, reminding them just who their master is. This world works, prepares to infect the rest of them. All as it should be.
Of course, there will only be one New Gallifrey, and what better place than Earth for it? It's not perfect; there will never be two suns, the sky will never be the right color. But it's a bit of sentiment, ruling from the first world he conquered, and anyway, he promised his army they could have their old world back. The Toclafane wouldn't be happy if he made them move. And Lucy likes Earth, watching it change beneath them, and he likes to make her happy. The Doctor's horror is a pleasant bonus.
Yes, his empire will rise from here; planets falling at his feet, worshiping him, the sole ruler of galaxies. Master of all.
Muse: The Master (Saxon)
Word Count: 239
Prompt: Write a fic or scene regarding the concept of "high command".
Perhaps the blood will turn the grass red without his help.
He leans forward, hand pressed against the glass, fingers tapping the consuming rhythm against Lucy's hip, babababa. Somewhere down there, below the clouds, the world is listening to his drumbeat. They move to it without knowing it's there, driving their thoughts, reminding them just who their master is. This world works, prepares to infect the rest of them. All as it should be.
Of course, there will only be one New Gallifrey, and what better place than Earth for it? It's not perfect; there will never be two suns, the sky will never be the right color. But it's a bit of sentiment, ruling from the first world he conquered, and anyway, he promised his army they could have their old world back. The Toclafane wouldn't be happy if he made them move. And Lucy likes Earth, watching it change beneath them, and he likes to make her happy. The Doctor's horror is a pleasant bonus.
Yes, his empire will rise from here; planets falling at his feet, worshiping him, the sole ruler of galaxies. Master of all.
Muse: The Master (Saxon)
Word Count: 239
Prompt: Write a fic or scene regarding the concept of "high command".