You are my voodoo child, my voodoo child...

Jan 12, 2008 18:42

There are an unusual number of people in the Inn singing, or playing music, or writing it. This is hard to miss ( Read more... )

alexander molokov, cecily breaux, plot with rocks in, the master, kitty pryde

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unphase January 13 2008, 01:16:09 UTC
Kitty seems to have forgotten what she's been doing when she sees a very, very familiar man stalking about the Inn. Thankfully, though, she hasn't been quite so touched infected by whatever seems to be floating around to the various patrons.

But she does have some anger in her. And so she will approach the man, "You." Fists curl at her sides, "You fooled me. You've hurt the Doctor."

Blunt, to the point. Too bad she's had a talk with the Eighth Doctor about him. Kitty really had fallen for his rather nice-guy act. Shame on her.

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thedrumsofwar January 13 2008, 02:51:13 UTC
The Master turns to face her - he'd been so preoccupied with his own thoughts, he wasn't paying all that much attention to her approach at first.

He immediately puts on an innocent expression, gasping in a rather scandalized fashion. "I never!"

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unphase January 13 2008, 02:59:02 UTC
Kitty merely glares at the innocence he puts up.

"He very well told me you, Master, are a bad man."

Now wasn't that an understatement? One hand lifts to hold onto the TARDIS' key that lays around her neck on a necklace. It's a comfort of some sort, really.

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thedrumsofwar January 13 2008, 03:03:22 UTC
The Master pouts. "Oh, he's just jealous. Come now, Kitty, have I ever given you a reason to think I would mean you harm?"

His eyes flicker to the key around her neck, though his expression doesn't falter. The Doctor and his stupid companions, so damnably inseparable, and their stupid loyalty to him... It makes him sick.

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unphase January 13 2008, 03:15:06 UTC
"Why would the Doctor be jealous?"

The Doctor's words are still clear in her mind. Granted, he hadn't told her just what the Master had done, but the sheer look on his face...

"What did you do to him?"

She really wants to be angry at this man before her, because she feels she needs to be. But how could someone who was so terrible be so very nice?

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thedrumsofwar January 13 2008, 03:19:13 UTC
"Nothing at all." He folds his arms and leans back against a nearby table, still watching her with a faint smile. "At least, nothing he didn't ask me to. The last two of our kind..."

Still with the completely innocent look, the absolute (apparent) guilelessness. "We ought to stick together, oughtn't we?"

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unphase January 13 2008, 03:31:17 UTC
The narration apologizes for the mutant, she does. Kitty gets worked up very easily.

"The... last two? But that isn't possible, is it? There's Five and Ten... But those were only forms of the Doctor himself. Put her mind to work and she'll forget much of her anger, especially with curiosity rolling. "And what about Gallifrey?"

So she's done her research, at least. "I think the Doctor would be much more fond of you if he thought the same." Another small glare given before she crosses her arms over her chest.

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thedrumsofwar January 13 2008, 03:35:28 UTC
The Master runs his fingers lightly over the tabletop he's leaning against, pausing to tap out a rhythm as he does.

"Gallifrey is gone. Long gone."

He smiles faintly, an unsettling, not entirely sane smile. "And it wasn't I that destroyed it either. It was your precious Doctor, who took our world and a hundred others and burned them to dust."

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unphase January 13 2008, 03:41:10 UTC
"Gone?"

Kitty, although she has never been to the planet, is even a little shocked. Such a powerful society? Destroyed?

"...The Doctor would never do that." She states lowly, taking a step back at the sight of the unsettling smile. "Now I know you're lying."

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thedrumsofwar January 13 2008, 03:48:04 UTC
"He did," the Master says, his voice a little sing-song. "Go on. Ask him. Not any of the younger ones, but my dear, beloved Eight... Or the one in the pinstriped suit, with the fluffy hair, I'm sure he'd love to explain it to you."

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unphase January 13 2008, 04:03:05 UTC
Kitty looks completely confused for a moment, as if trying to work it all out. The way the Master spoke... it was a pure sign that something was wrong.

"You had a hand in it, didn't you?" She dares a few steps closer again, the anger in her eyes now, too. "No one should look so happy to know their very home was destroyed..."

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thedrumsofwar January 13 2008, 05:07:54 UTC
The Master's expression shifts a little, darkens for just a second into something fierce and angry and dangerous.

And then it shifts back to that contrived innocence that nevertheless manages to come across as perfectly sincere. "A hand in it? Oh, no. I was far, far away, all the way at the end of the universe."

He tilts his head to one side, and then leans in in a somewhat conspiratorial way. "If I'd been there," he whispers, "he'd have killed me too."

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unphase January 13 2008, 05:14:30 UTC
A quiet gasp escapes her at the flicker in expression but she remains in her spot, unmoving.

Even as he leans in, Kitty keeps her body still. Though she's ready to phase right through him if the moment should call for it.

"From what I've heard," she leans in a little herself this time and whisper in return, "You never seem to die quite well enough."

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thedrumsofwar January 13 2008, 05:22:40 UTC
He's a little surprised that she leans toward him - most people try to back away when he gets close like this, sense a little of his insanity and try to get away as much as they would from a rabid dog.

Strange girl, this.

He likes it.

"No," he breathes. "I can't afford to die, not until the drums are satisfied. They won't let me go."

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unphase January 13 2008, 05:29:37 UTC
Kitty is rather scared of him, but she also realizes he cannot do anything to her. That, right now, he is harmless as far as most things go. But even this does not give her much confidence.

His reply, though, is what surprises her.

"The drums?" She will question softly, amongst fear and anger, curiosity is sparked once more.

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thedrumsofwar January 13 2008, 15:28:36 UTC
He growls softly, not so much at her as at the pounding in his head, the insistence of the damn drums. It's not like he can ever forget them, but they're so intent on making him notice them, reminding him he still owes them a war.

"The drums, in my head, always in my head." He taps out the rhythm, fast and loud on the tabletop. His eyes close for a moment, his expression distant and focused. When he closes his eyes, there's nothing but the drums. "The drums are calling for a war, and they won't be denied."

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