[location: Sanctuary] ...I am your timekiller.

[who_never_would]

The night of Cordelia's party. False stars glimmering overhead, and as the evening dwindled on and the guests wandered off to their own devices, the Doctor slipped away into the night. He speaks to no one on his way out of the party, instead smiles and waves genially, but he doesn't stop for smalltalk or last goodbyes. Walking down the street, the

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[location: somewhere away from the Sanctuary, but nearby enough]

[beholdthedrums]

Some things in the universe could truly be counted as something beautiful; the Master would easily set this instance into that category. Beautifully arranged and beautifully orchestrated; he stands at a distance, arms folded, looking over the flames with a grin on his face and glee in his eyes.

Oh yes, this was something that the drumming was loving. Enough to tide them over? Perhaps. But then, there was never really enough. Continue moving forward, continue to break apart the fabrics that hold together. He plucked apart threads of the universe and scattered them.

Chaos. Disorder. Eventually re-sew them back up, with a new pattern. His pattern.

And the Doctor was becoming the same - that chaos, destruction. He may have already started before this; without seeing into his mind, the Master had no way of knowing. But this was a step. One before many.

He laughs. There's a dead-weight from the timer in a pocket, his tablet in another. He thinks about sending a message of congratulations to the Doctor, but for now he just bathes in

[location: Hyperion Hotel]

[glowingseer]

The party, of course, was a success. Cordelia can't help the grin that seems to be permanently glued to her face; she is dead tired, and her feet hurt, but damn if people didn't have a good time. Now she only has to think of how to start cleaning up the place and--

A loud explosion from somewhere makes her stop in her tracks. The chandelier in the lobby swings a bit, the lights flickering off for a second. "What the hell?" Cordelia mutters, heading towards the door and out into the streets. She looks around to see where the explosion occurred...

There! Just beyond the buildings, she can see a part of Taxon being eaten by flames. Her hands shake as she steps forward, entranced and almost blinded by the fire. But she can't look away.

"Oh, my god."

[location: in the vicinity of the hotel]

[dexmcduff]

Dexter would say that he had a pretty good time tonight. He's in a good mood, smiling as he carts his suit jacket and tie home from the hotel.

But then it happens.

"Oh my God." Dexter freezes, stumbles, stares.

[location: inside the Hyperion Hotel]

[biverbam]

River sees it before it happens, still pressed against the wall where Billy had left her, and it comes first by the tiniest fraction of a second like lightning striking before the thunder. She sees it and closes her eyes, flinches back with her whole body, tenses every muscle and feels like at any moment the force of the blast will catch up and knock her out of her oh-so-sensible heels.

They were a compromise, those heels.

This was a compromise. Exchange the familiar for fire and a card of chance. This was his debris (thirty million people and they all just let themselves die), his calculated loss for the sake of the greater good. Everything made sense, then, for a second, the puzzle pieces he'd given her earlier falling into place like ash settling on the ground.

Absently, eyes still shut, River reaches down and fists a hand in her skirt, other still white knuckled around her waist.

"He's not a doctor," she mutters to herself. To no one in particular or anyone nearby, and the words settle like ash at her feet.