The Master | Saxon Era (
standsonhigh) wrote2013-12-25 09:02 pm
Open Post for S&M!verse
Just put all the relevant information in the subject line. So when in the timeline and which universe aka Whoniverse or the Wizarding world.
Any questions, just PM.

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"Good enough," the Master said, waving his hand in dismissal to show he didn't need any more information than that and he wasn't very invested in this discussion. Magic was boring and stupid, he had very little intrigue unless it was a forbidden spell or something nice and deadly. "Down in the basement is one of my more rebellious followers and I've been teaching him a lesson in loyalty. One that perhaps went further than I had originally intended. Regardless, I just need a very swift patch up to keep him alive and awake."
Talking to an injured feverish Barty was getting a little old, he barely kept focus. "Don't do a great job, just do it enough that he won't die. You humans are so breakable."
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On the other hand, keeping his expression wholly in check was a skill he hadn't quite mastered yet. When the new Dark Lord spoke so casually of them as if they were mere puppets easily broken and discarded, he couldn't help the slight stiffening of his shoulders, nor the pinched look around his mouth.
You humans... He would never get used to this. For all that Regulus held out hopes that this new ruler would finally be the man he had sought to serve, Voldemort had been easier to understand.
"I see," was all he permitted himself to say, for he had no desire of joining the poor fellow. Poor fool. "I can certainly achieve mediocre results," he affirmed, unable to keep the wryness wholly out of his voice.
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The Master could sense the displeasure, he could practically see it on this one, and he didn't like. Time Lords could always sense a little off people, it was a natural skill they had. And humans read like an open book when compared to Time Lords. And this one wasn't one seemed a little too snide. But right now, he wasn't overly on the attack, not yet, anyway. He was just making a mental list of those who needed to be taught a lesson about how they looked at their Master and treated him. With a slight raise of his eyebrow, he stared for a moment, as if trying to gauge this man.
Then, finally, he asked. "Your name, what is it?"
He needed it for his list. He'd ask Barty later, when he was more coherent, if he knew this one. Trying to keep control of all these new people was a challenge enough, he really needed to thin the herd and work out who was worth keeping.
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He had made a mistake... and he would pay for it. Maybe not today or tomorrow but unwarranted attention was never a good sign. At least with Voldemort the standing of the Black family had provided some measure of protection. Now... He felt lost again, lost and terribly in what should have been a den of snakes, yet had been turned into something he couldn't even begin to comprehend.
Regulus forced himself to raise his head again. Not to meet the Master's eyes, that would have been too daring, but there was pride in his name and noble lineage. Even now. Someone had to remember. "Regulus Arcturus Black, my Lord. I served the Dark... I took the Mark nearly a year ago."
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The way he said the name spoke volumes, as if he thought the Master could recognise it or see it as important for some reason. Sadly, he didn't care much either way. A name was a name and that's all it was in the end.
"Call me Master, not Lord. Though I am your Lord, just for the record," the Master corrected swiftly, moving into the man's personal space with a grin on his face, looking rather amused by that little vouching of loyalty at the end. "I don't care about your mark. If I could, I'd remove them all. They look ridiculous. Rassilon's sake, you're an evil cult, not a motorbike gang."
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Regulus forced himself to shove such thoughts aside, that was bitterness for later. It wasn't hard to focus wholly on the here and now, and the Master, when the man got far too close for comfort. Far too amused, too, like a Kneazle toying with a rat. Regulus' lips thinned to a pale, tense line. He had never been fond of cats. "Of course you are my Dark Lord, Master," he affirmed. "As for the Mark..." Oh, there were a lot of things he could have said to the Master about the Mark, but most of them were bound to get him tortured to death and the rest merely quickly killed. "If you wish to have it removed, that is your choice, Master. You took the Dark Lord's place, it is yours now."