(no subject)
Characters: The Master (demnify), Sam Tyler (didorothy), Gene Hunt (theguv), Annie Cartwright (mouthyplonk), Ray Carling (gotitwrong), Chris Skelton (knowswheregodis), Hei (contract_star), Mu (lamb_of_gold), Diva (chansondelamort), Ammy (shinypaws), d!Five (miseardae). IF I FORGOT ANYONE TELL ME.
Location: The Master's fortress.
Time: Now.
Summary: The Master's trap has been sprung, and CID's time is running out. Will the rescue team be able to save them, or will it all be for naught?
Warnings: Death and violence.
Note: There will be two threads in here, so each respective group, tag where you belong. Also work out posting orders with each other. ALSO stuff will be gaged accordingly (ie if it takes rescue party 200 tags to go down a hallway, odds are all of CID won't die during those 200 tags. Just exchange the same courtesy back to the CID killing party, since we can be slow taggers!) :| Also I will SO name the threads '(x) blah thread' if I wanna.
There was something to be said about the art of laying traps.
It was an art, in a way. Inspiring and electing emotions to make one's audience or prey act accordingly, setting things so the eye flows one way instead of another. Misdirection. Focus. Luring in the target and waiting until they could not escape. The Master knew all of these well- and to follow up on 'art', he had it perfected to such. (Though he had less than stellar plots in his time, the art of the trap was still something to admire.)
The detectives of CID were easy enough to capture. Oh, some put up a fight, or a struggle, or otherwise made things difficult, but in the end... well, in the end, he won. They were his, and they were going to pay dearly for the transgressions against him. He might even have a bit of fun in the process.
Everything else he had prepared. His fortress warped to be a massive series of traps, ranging from mindnumbingly difficult to so easy a child could figure it out. He wouldn't have anyone interrupting, just in case they decided to. Though he had already set his mind on hopes of intruders; he had left the door to his fortress unlocked, just slightly open. Inviting. A tad obvious, perhaps, but if it lured anyone in, it worked well enough.
But the Master pushed those thoughts aside for now. He had other, more ...immediate playthings.
Location: The Master's fortress.
Time: Now.
Summary: The Master's trap has been sprung, and CID's time is running out. Will the rescue team be able to save them, or will it all be for naught?
Warnings: Death and violence.
Note: There will be two threads in here, so each respective group, tag where you belong. Also work out posting orders with each other. ALSO stuff will be gaged accordingly (ie if it takes rescue party 200 tags to go down a hallway, odds are all of CID won't die during those 200 tags. Just exchange the same courtesy back to the CID killing party, since we can be slow taggers!) :| Also I will SO name the threads '(x) blah thread' if I wanna.
There was something to be said about the art of laying traps.
It was an art, in a way. Inspiring and electing emotions to make one's audience or prey act accordingly, setting things so the eye flows one way instead of another. Misdirection. Focus. Luring in the target and waiting until they could not escape. The Master knew all of these well- and to follow up on 'art', he had it perfected to such. (Though he had less than stellar plots in his time, the art of the trap was still something to admire.)
The detectives of CID were easy enough to capture. Oh, some put up a fight, or a struggle, or otherwise made things difficult, but in the end... well, in the end, he won. They were his, and they were going to pay dearly for the transgressions against him. He might even have a bit of fun in the process.
Everything else he had prepared. His fortress warped to be a massive series of traps, ranging from mindnumbingly difficult to so easy a child could figure it out. He wouldn't have anyone interrupting, just in case they decided to. Though he had already set his mind on hopes of intruders; he had left the door to his fortress unlocked, just slightly open. Inviting. A tad obvious, perhaps, but if it lured anyone in, it worked well enough.
But the Master pushed those thoughts aside for now. He had other, more ...immediate playthings.