There's nothing here but what here's mine.

[standsonhigh]

This wasn't, exactly, how he had planned his return. He had expected to be on home turf, a place he understood and wanted to be. Surrounded by worshippers and already plotting. Not here with some strange man using the power he gave specifically to his followers to bring him back. The books of Saxon weren't meant to be public knowledge, they were his private notes, and yet this man decided to drag him into a world he didn't want to be in.

The Master always had a funny feeling that magic wasn't something he should of ever tried to toy with because as it stood, he didn't like where this was going. It defied the logic he knew.

Voldemort was a strange creature, a very unpleasant one at that. He looked sickly and his eyes were red like an albino. Still, he didn't say much on it, he'd looked worse himself and damages were just a sign of ambition and desire. It always took everything out of you, especially with humans.

The drums were raging in his head as he followed Voldemort into this meeting he'd decided to attend. He'd only been back a few days and already he seemed to of captured the imagination of this tiny little creature who was all but eager to introduce him.

An ancient ruler from another reality must of been interesting.

He didn't walk behind Voldemort, he kept in step, not willing to seem a lesser. Hey, the dark lord brought him here. If he was going to play with this merry band of psychopaths, he wanted to seem equal.

Comments

[standsonhigh]

The Master looked about as interested as everyone else in the room, distractedly checking his watch and pulling a face when Voldemort spoke of him but hardly gave him the spotlight. Did he actually remember the Master was here or was he that desperate to be in the limelight? An obvious question but one could never be entirely sure.

With a slight frown, he tilted his head to the side and cleared his throat, purposefully waving his hand behind Voldemort. The man barely broke stride in his speech but those in the crowd seemed to murmur and look around, unsure what to make of someone trying to interrupt their lord.

"Helllllo? Hi! I'm right here and I'm sure I have better input on who and what I am. If you ever get tired of hearing your own voice, I'll take over cause you're boring everyone. Me included," he chipped in, grinning brightly at the 'dark lord'. He turned his head to get a better look at the mass of people now staring at him. Some angry, some confused, mostly not pleased by his interference. Blind worship was such a silly notion, did they have a sense of humour?

The Master moved closer to the edge of the area they were standing and intended to take off when something caught his eye. Or more someone.

No. No! He couldn't be here, that was impossible! How-- no! It wasn't fair. With a snarl, Voldemort and his followers were forgotten as the Master leapt off the slightly raised platform and started angrily pushing his way through the crowd.

"How are you here? Tell me how you did this?!"

And, like that, he had a hold of his target. He gripped the Doctor's jacket tight in his hands, practically growling at him, barely noticing anything but his face. "You little rat, you followed me!"

[liquidsky]

Being called a rat wasn't generally a good thing within their circles, but Barty was a bit too caught off-guard to do anything but stare at first. It wasn't as if the man was attacking him outright, just... touching his face. Weird, unsettling, but probably not enough of an excuse to curse his Lord's esteemed guest, no matter how rude he had just been.

"What do you want?" Barty did reach up to grab the Master's wrists in an attempt to get his hands off of him. He'd rather not have his face get molested, really. "I didn't follow you. I don't even know who you are."

[standsonhigh]

The Master barely noticed how hard he was gripping onto the man he'd assumed was the Doctor, he was just too focused on the idea of being caught. Again. He would not be the Doctor pet, not here and not now. He was so close to something promising. It was only when the man spoke that something hit him. He didn't sound... right? And the face? It was -- young?

Staring, the Master took a full moment to take this in before he jerked away, glaring venomously at the younger man. He was definitely not the Doctor but this? This was insane. He looked exactly the same. "Your name. What is it?"

[liquidsky]

No matter how much the Master's focus was on him, Barty's eyes flickered to his Lord, waiting for him to give a slight nod before replying. Everyone was staring at them now, but Barty was mostly aware of having his Lord's attention and for once not entirely sure whether that would be a good thing by the end of this. He had no idea what was going on.

"Bartemius Crouch." He paused for a moment, then added the hateful, "Junior." The only distinction he had from his father. One day he might manage to rid himself of the name altogether.

[standsonhigh]

So he had a name. A name and a face that just didn't go together yet he didn't even seem to blink an eye at the Master. His only logical conclusion would be that this was an alternate universe fluke he'd accidentally stumbled into it. With a groan, the Master moved away from Barty and turned to the crowd around him. They were all staring but he didn't care.

"My mistake. Let's all try not to dwell or I'm beyond done here."

With a sigh, he tried not to focus on the boy who wore his enemies face and pushed his way through the sea of people. Voldemort hardly seemed please but if he wanted to be immortal and live forever, he'd have to listen to his master. Whether he wanted to or not.