(no subject)
COMM: badcompany_muse - execute
VERSE: canon
WORD COUNT: 433
The crowd is utterly and completely silent.
The Master sits above them, looking down. This is his doing, his plans, and he admires them. He could feel the unnerve as if it were a physical entity, he could smell the paranoia and fear in the dear air. They came of their own accord, too morbidly curious to avoid it. He has the command of every man, woman, and child in the streets.
He feels as if he were a god.
Slowly, he rises to his feet and steps into the light of the morning - the crisp cold of the air hits him full force and he allows a shiver to make it's way down his spine. A smirk spreads across his face, and he spreads his arms in a grand gesture.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he opens, his voice echoing below. "Welcome. On this day will be a first for you - the government of old has fallen under the fist of the new."
The crowd begins to whisper, making a sound akin to white noise. The Master scowls inwardly; he wants them silent, he wants to speak and be heard without interruption. He refuses to permit anyone to ruin his planning, not after all this. So he scowls, and he puts a hint of annoyed malice in his voice. "Some have tried to resist me. They have made attempts on my life, and that? That will not be tolerated."
He has no problem fabricating details to make himself seem justified in his actions. Vermin were vermin, regardless of whether or not they had actually attempted to kill him, and they would not be suffered to live.
"Let this be a lesson. Those who resist me shall not live."
With a single gloved finger he points down into the center of the crowd. The space is open, save for five figures, shackled and chained. They stand in front of a row of guillotines.
"Those who obey me?"
The five are guided to their knees, their heads placed on the block. The tension in the crowd soars. Some of them try to leave, but the throng refuses to budge. They are too shocked, or too thrilled, to allow anyone to pass through.
"They shall find their lives spared."
He gestures to the executioners below, and five blades fall. Five heads are removed from their necks and tumble into baskets. The Master turns away as someone screams. He can hear a few people in the crowd laugh, a few roars of approval, but they are few and far between.
It's no matter to him. He would do this again soon, and he would continue until they embraced it.
VERSE: canon
WORD COUNT: 433
The crowd is utterly and completely silent.
The Master sits above them, looking down. This is his doing, his plans, and he admires them. He could feel the unnerve as if it were a physical entity, he could smell the paranoia and fear in the dear air. They came of their own accord, too morbidly curious to avoid it. He has the command of every man, woman, and child in the streets.
He feels as if he were a god.
Slowly, he rises to his feet and steps into the light of the morning - the crisp cold of the air hits him full force and he allows a shiver to make it's way down his spine. A smirk spreads across his face, and he spreads his arms in a grand gesture.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he opens, his voice echoing below. "Welcome. On this day will be a first for you - the government of old has fallen under the fist of the new."
The crowd begins to whisper, making a sound akin to white noise. The Master scowls inwardly; he wants them silent, he wants to speak and be heard without interruption. He refuses to permit anyone to ruin his planning, not after all this. So he scowls, and he puts a hint of annoyed malice in his voice. "Some have tried to resist me. They have made attempts on my life, and that? That will not be tolerated."
He has no problem fabricating details to make himself seem justified in his actions. Vermin were vermin, regardless of whether or not they had actually attempted to kill him, and they would not be suffered to live.
"Let this be a lesson. Those who resist me shall not live."
With a single gloved finger he points down into the center of the crowd. The space is open, save for five figures, shackled and chained. They stand in front of a row of guillotines.
"Those who obey me?"
The five are guided to their knees, their heads placed on the block. The tension in the crowd soars. Some of them try to leave, but the throng refuses to budge. They are too shocked, or too thrilled, to allow anyone to pass through.
"They shall find their lives spared."
He gestures to the executioners below, and five blades fall. Five heads are removed from their necks and tumble into baskets. The Master turns away as someone screams. He can hear a few people in the crowd laugh, a few roars of approval, but they are few and far between.
It's no matter to him. He would do this again soon, and he would continue until they embraced it.