pawnofrassilon | For Eileen <3<3

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For Eileen <3<3

On a cold spring evening in Wiltshire, in the year 2011, a man falls to Earth.

Some children look up and think they see a shooting star that night. Adults, knowing that whatever it is is far too large, think it might be a comet or meteor. Or else they assume it's a trick of the eyes, an afterimage of a headlamp on the road. Some, oddly enough, think of angels. News reports are non-definitive.

Much like the film, the man isn't quite a 'man' at all-- not by the twenty-first century Earth definition, anyhow. He's alien, though it's only by the doubling of his pulses and the nature of his abrupt appearance in the first place that any human could tell.

Unlike the film, he isn't particularly concerned with saving his home world. Not anymore.

The Master lies very still for a long time, heedless of the fact he's crumpled up in the middle of an open field. He's fallen quite a distance, even for a Time Lord. And many of his injuries are much, much older than that. His clothes are little more than rags, torn to shreds and singed to the point of near purposelessness. If it's even possible, he's dirtier than ever. Exhausted. Parched. Hungry. So hungry.

Eventually it's the hunger that gets him up and keeps him moving. Feeling the click and slide of bones that are likely dislocated if not broken, the Master struggles to his feet, heaving and wincing in pain, his skin becoming momentarily translucent with the effort. He's in trouble, his energy stores dangerously low and his body in real danger of being ripped apart. But it's nothing a little snack won't fix. Taking a great whiff of the night air, he cracks a grin just short of sanity... and lets his nose lead him staggering through the darkness.

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The man's fall did not go unnoticed. Nor did the fact that for all intents and purposes, he had begun his descent by seemingly blinking into existence. But the team of Torchwood agents recognized the telltale signs of a rip between universes; after all, they had worked hard to create them.

One agent in particular was all too familiar with them.

A bank of computers calculated his velocity, his trajectory. When he landed, they knew where. And that one agent who had crossed that inter-universal barrier herself went out to investigate.

Rose Tyler didn't know what to expect as she crossed the field. She was armed, of course, and the comm in her ear would radio for backup if she needed it. Scanning the area in front of her with a torch, she saw movement, a staggering form. Carefully, she eased her gun out of its holster.

"Hullo?"

By the time Rose nears, he's has already found one sheep and devoured it, leaving behind nothing but a pile of wool and bones. But the Master's senses are still far too dull, far too focused on his next meal, to recognize someone approaching-- at first.

When Rose speaks, the figure stops dead in its tracks, all electric tension. The Master turns his head with an indignant glare, eyes blinking in the light of the torch.

And then, slowly, he smiles, inhales long and deep. Though the Master's voice is rough, cracked, as if he hasn't used it for a very long time, there's a clear threat of menace in his tone.

"You smell great."

This can't possibly be the entity she'd come looking for, could it? Not this bedraggled, pervy man telling her she smelled great. Yet there was something about him, something strange and otherworldly, that made Rose pause, and the edge of threat in his voice made her tighten her grip on her weapon.

"What's your name?"

"Oh, what's in a name?" he croons, almost coquettishly, but he takes a step closer. Then another. All that matters to him right now is that this is bound to be a much more satisfying dinner than one spent picking wool fibers from his teeth. He still can't quite see the girl clearly, or what she's doing-- not with the light in his eyes. But he can tell now that she's alone.

That means she's his.

"Halt!" she demands, raising the gun and training it on the advancing figure. "Don't come any closer. I am armed and I will shoot if necessary."

Of earth origin or no, this one is clearly a nutter, and needs to be handled with caution.

"Again...what is your name?"

At the mention of the gun, the smile slips away, a look of disgust replacing it. And maybe even a bit of apprehension; he's not quite well enough, can't move quick enough to take her. Not when there's a weapon trained on him.

Of course, pretty soon he's going to be too hungry to even care.

"It's always shooting with you apes. Can't you think of anything more... original for once?"

Rather than raise them, the Master begins rubbing his hands together, faint blue sparks erupting from between his fingers. He may just have enough energy to subdue her, stun her-- and then move in for the kill.

Apes...

Rose blinks, frowns... then her eyes widen at the sight of the electrical sparks playing along the man's fingers. He clearly isn't human, then.

Apes.

The Doctor called her an ape, before. Could this be a... no, he was the last one. Wasn't he?

"Time Lord?" she wonders aloud.

His hands stop their motion for a brief moment and he cocks his head, curious. Because she didn't say 'Doctor'. She said 'Time Lord'.

"Ohhh, very good. Give the girl a prize. Who do you work for? UNIT? Captain Girly's team of alien-shagging dunces? Not that it much matters. You can't stop me."

The Master twiddles his fingers restlessly, letting the electrical current dance between them, back and forth, as if he's performing a complicated trick.

She noted his reference to Jack. He's from that universe, then. And he knew about Torchwood, and UNIT. But... a Time Lord? The Time Lords were all dead, save the Doctor, in that universe.

But matters were more pressing than that.

"Stop what you're doing," she ordered.

"I'm hungry." The Master says it as if he's had to explain it thousands of times before-- and as if it explains everything. But it doesn't matter what this girl can possibly understand. The constant pain, getting stronger, tells him it's time to put an end to this.

"And didn't I just tell you you couldn't stop me?" He clicks his tongue. "Humans. They never do listen."

As he speaks those final words the Master raises his hands toward the light, crackling bright blue with artron, and prepares to fire.

And Rose takes the shot, aiming for a heart.

The bullet hits as intended. The sparks short out to nothing, and the Master manages one shocked, almost confused frown, before he collapses backwards.

Rose approaches, gun still drawn, lifting one hand to touch her comm to activate it.

"Shot fired, subject down, request backup," she said, then returns her hand to the gun. She remains a sufficient distance back that he would not easily be able to reach her, and watches for any movement.

He's struggling to prop himself up by one elbow, breath coming short and fast. One shot to the heart won't necessarily kill a Time Lord-- but it hurts.

"You shot me," he says, bemused, and then coughs weakly, temporarily losing the ability to hold himself together and flashing bone.

"Told you I would," she said, then sucked in a breath as his skin went translucent, and she could see his skeleton.

"Blimey," she muttered. "How'd you do that?"

The Master grits his teeth, shuddering, but he glares up into the torch light, defiant and stubborn. "It's not a parlor trick."

He gives up on getting to his feet and settles for attempting to crawl away like a wounded animal.

"Stay where you are," Rose ordered. "My team will be here soon."

She stepped closer, determined not to lose him.

"Who are you?"

Again, he chooses not to answer her question with anything useful, saving his energy to continue squirming across the grass, leaving a trail of blood behind him-- and to snap back a few choice insults in Gallifreyan.

She follows, gun still trained on him. From behind her there's the sound of her fellow agents running toward their location, and soon the bobbing lights of torches come into view.

The Master shoots a panicked look behind him as he realizes the 'team' has indeed arrived. Despite his efforts to up the pace, to try and lose this bitch, he knows he's slowing down, the blood loss and the difficulties of carrying on with only one heart wearing on him. But it doesn't stop him from trying.

Soon he's surrounded, lights bobbing all around him, making it impossible to see any details in the dark forms that draw in close.

"What happened, Rose?"

"He has some bio-electrical abilities, apparently..."

One of the figures kneels beside him, a syringe in hand. "Hold still," a voice says, male. "This won't hurt." And he moves in to administer the sedative.

He certainly won't hold still. The Master snarls, a cornered animal, and grapples with the new arrival. If he can just latch onto something, bare skin... he can make these disgusting apes regret ever once daring to try and restrain him.

The Master manages to get some bare skin on the agent's forearm, and he screamss, dropping the syringe.

"Move!" Rose's voice, and now she aims a different weapon at the writhing figure on the ground. She squeezes the trigger, firing a tranquilizer dart.

The Master's unbridled glee at the opportunity to burn into this man, both mind and flesh is powerful enough to nearly make him forget how hungry he is, how close he is to dying. But the triumph is cut short by the sharp, sudden sting in his veins. He sucks in a breath, releasing the agent's wrist and bringing a hand to his neck.

He's weak enough, and the sedative potent enough, that pulling out the dart is the last thing the Master manages to do before everything goes dark. The dart tumbles from his fingers and his body follows, collapsing onto the grass like a puppet with the strings cut.

The medical bay is equipped to handle enraged weevils, which for some reason are just as prevalent in this world as they are in Jack's. So the restraints that hold the Master down on the examination table are exceptionally strong. Rose stands over the Master as he wakes, looking tired, harried. She probably hasn't slept much lately.

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*cue the Bon Jovi*

LOL!

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Time passes...

cue the Bon Jovi