something wicked this way comes- open to dame_de_pique
It's a familiar scenario. So familiar as to be almost laughable, but the Master is pleased, as ever, that proceedings thus far have developed as smoothly as they have. Taytyyn is a war-torn world; or was, until recently. And soon will be again, once the Master has his way. He's insinuated his way into the government in the guise of Dominus Myotiisti, the Minister for Intranational Relations, and he's kindly volunteered to provide the entertainment for the upcoming peace summit. Taytyyn has finally resolved to end its centuries-long feuding, and the Master, being the clever man he is, sees this historical event as the opportunity it is; the chance to take control of a world with impressive material wealth, a delightfully barbarous taste in weaponry, and an ideal location to set out for the rest of the galaxy. The Taytyyr themselves have historically had little regard for their neighbours, and as such, the inhabitants of the surrounding planets tend to forget they exist. A shameful waste of potential, as far as the Master's concerned.
And so here he is, on the cusp of sweet victory, with just one final step left. The summoning.
As with the Daemons on Sol 3, Mr. Dark and his Carnival of Horrors have been mythologised by no few civilisations. Turned in legend to demons and devils, people with arcane and occult powers. The Master knows better. Renegades, like himself. Not a Time Lord, oh no, merely a creature with profound psychic powers, and a taste for pain; a man of science who amuses himself with the myriad sufferings of the cosmos.
A man perfect to be bent to a will such as the Master's.
With nearly religious care, the Master sets out his instruments, his dark eyes glittering as he pulls a card out from his lapel, crisp cardstock and the words, glimmering dully, like wax in the half-light: Cooger & Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show. Time to meet your Master, O so-called devils. He has a use for you.
And so here he is, on the cusp of sweet victory, with just one final step left. The summoning.
As with the Daemons on Sol 3, Mr. Dark and his Carnival of Horrors have been mythologised by no few civilisations. Turned in legend to demons and devils, people with arcane and occult powers. The Master knows better. Renegades, like himself. Not a Time Lord, oh no, merely a creature with profound psychic powers, and a taste for pain; a man of science who amuses himself with the myriad sufferings of the cosmos.
A man perfect to be bent to a will such as the Master's.
With nearly religious care, the Master sets out his instruments, his dark eyes glittering as he pulls a card out from his lapel, crisp cardstock and the words, glimmering dully, like wax in the half-light: Cooger & Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show. Time to meet your Master, O so-called devils. He has a use for you.