Post by The Master on Oct 14, 2010 21:35:21 GMT -5
THE MASTER
HEY THERE! my name is Ren and i'm 17 years old.
i'm a boy-o and i've been roleplaying for 3-4 years.
I'm puppetmaster of the air here on SIT, and i found out about you from Caution, but enough about
me, here's my character. =]
nicknames: "Well...there is The Master. I do go by Harold Saxon; sometimes Harry, Sax, and...Koskos. But call me Koskos and I can guarantee you'll never see daylight again."
age: "I'm over nine hundred years old; about twenty earth years older than The Doctor. So, that should put me somewhere around 923 to 925...you really stop counting after 400."
religion: "I believe in the Master Race. How's that for religion?"
affiliation: "Me, oh me...I'm just all over the place, that's me. Mostly on the Bad side of the universe."
sexuality: "Sexuality? ...Is that an earthly term of yours? See, back in Gallifrey, nobody really cared for what you preferred...in fact, we're all what you humans would call 'Omnisexual'. Personally, love isn't my thing, but if it does spark up...one's body parts won't matter."
species: "I'm a Timelord, you git!"
marital status: "Err...lets just say, I'm divorced. Single, basically."
member title: ...maybe it's the aftershave
playby: John Simm
cannon or original: Canon
hometown: "Didn't I already tell you where I'm from? I'm from Gallifrey; mighty, powerful, roaring Gallifrey!"
current residence: "I live in my TARDIS, mind you. I have no need nor desire to reside amongst you humans."
parents: "Err...they're dead. No."
siblings: "None...only child since birth; Mummy and Daddy's precious little boy~"
brief history:
The Master, Koschei, Harold Saxon, that one man walking down the street...whatever you may know him by, there are many things to be told; many stories to recite about how this man came to be. Most of them are theories; bits and pieces of a giant puzzle put together with only hints of the past...a very long, long time, that was this Timelord's past. He has lived for over 900 years, and I believe none of us truly wish to sit here to read 900 years counting every breath. That would be most boring and annoying, to put it nicely. So, why don't we find a nice starting point? A point where the story of this lonely little boy could all be summed up...
Most of it started in Gallifrey; the planet of the Timelords. Gallifrey, of course, was Koschei's home. His entire world; the place where his life began. Much like another specific Timelord, Koschei was never really popular amongst his peers. He was ruled out as different; odd. Weird. Crazy. Words that seemed to draw the footsteps he'd later on follow. He was, by far, a very different boy. Never really followed the trends that were set before him, and was more or less stay away and do his own little thing. It was a little glitch in his system that made him stand out to all the others; made him a target to heavy bullying even with his economic status.
Oh, yes, yes! Koschei was a boy with plenty of money to spend, when he was younger. He was rich; had land and estates to his name. He had so much in his possession; so many things to spare and give away...yet the only thing he had one of, was a friend. In his few years of life, it seemed nobody really had interest in crossing paths with this boy; not a single living Timelord. But, he wasn't alone in this, for there was another boy who, too, had gotten the lower end of it all. Theta Sigma. It was all innocent enough at first; best friends who played in Koschei's Father's estates, yelling to the skies out of sheer enjoyment. It was a beautiful friendship as first, as most best friends turn out to be, but the worst for of it all...was that they had no idea of the horrible years to come. How their lives would entwine with one another's in such a brutal way.
At the age of eight, Master was forced to look very particular little Schism as part of a ritual; he had looked into Time itself, a Vortex that most Timelords looked at once in their lives as a step closer to earning their name and TARDIS. But there was a small side effect to it all...for some Timelords would go mad upon peering into it, and rumour has it...Koschei was one of them. He was one of those rare boys who would not be able to contain it all; one of those rare boys whose minds were not ready for that challenge, but it was too late now. Too late to do anything about it; he was gone. Shy, Timid, Giggly Koschei was now out for the count, substituted by a more darker being...one that would take years and years to develop, but would do so soon enough. He has blamed the Doctor for that event; blamed it all on him that he was forced to go early. He has no real ground to do such a claim; no real reason to blame him, but most of his problems were thanks to the Doctor, so one more added to the list wouldn't hurt.
As the years went by and Gallifrey begun to head into the Time War, Master had already grown up into a handsome, wise man. He was rumoured to be smart; oh so smart, maybe even smarter than the Doctor himself. But none of that mattered now. It wasn't about your brains anymore; no, no. It was all about your brawn...how tough you were, how many Daleks you could kill in one outing. It had all gone to hell at that point, and it just so happened that the Doctor had somehow managed to escape. He had stolen a TARDIS. Initially, Master was sent out to chase after him; control him and bring him back. Every Timelord knew that only Theta and Koschei could control each other, so they wouldn't try to interfere, but as days turned to months, and months added to years, neither Master nor the Doctor had ever come back; the planet got put in a Time Lock and Gallifrey was destroyed.
And there he was again; Lonely, failed, maddened Koschei. He had failed to stop the Doctor. Failed to eliminate him, only to find himself outsmarted by that same man...and that was something that truly drove him mad. There were these drums, you see; drums in his head. They were always there, never to leave, clear as day...yet all in his head. He had tried, over the years, to tell the Doctor about them. Tried to tell him how much they hurt; how they never, ever would leave...how they invaded his every thought and take over his entire mind. He had tried to tell many people, actually, in hopes that maybe one would help...but nobody ever believed him. No, no! Nobody ever believed crazy Koschei! Not a soul! He was a mad man; a loony. There was no hope for him. Nothing real.
That mistake, the single mistake of not to stopping to listen, that made this man go from bad to worse. And he was going to seek revenge on the only other person in the universe who could understand him; The Doctor.
It wasn't long before Master had found him again through his TARDIS. After all, he was the smart one of the two. (Or at least, that's what he liked to tell himself.) And without a doubt, he begun to terrorize the Doctor's life as best he could. He begun to plague it and prod at it; mold it to his own desires, until the day came that a naive Doctor had strolled to far from his TARDIS, allowing Master the room to run in and steal it, which was something he did without a second thought in his mind.
From there, Master created what would be the Year that Never Was...a year that would be his moment of glory; his very empire as the world was made into the Master Race. Needless to say, his plans went by untouched for quite a while, and he wrecked more havoc than perhaps ever before...but eventually, goody-two-shoes Theta Sigma had to jump in and ruin it all. Even after all those years, that shy boy from Gallifrey was still doing what was right, saving those filthy humans instead of realizing that he was above them all; he was so much purer and oh so much more powerful. But he chose to waste his power and longevity on humans and preserving the universe. Pity, it was.
Just as this all seemed to go from worse to horrible, Master saw his way out of it; a get-out-of-the-TARDIS-free card...Lucy.
Oh Lucy, his once 'beloved' wife. She had finally snapped, and sent a bullet to the man's stomach. This was, Master thought, the best way to free himself of it all. Free himself and finally win the battle against Theta.
Needless to say, Master died in the Doctor's arms that faithful day. He died with a smile and the satisfactory knowledge of finally having gotten back at that horrible, horrible man everyone knew as the Doctor...but little did anyone know, that's when the darling Rift in Cardiff decided to have a small glitch in the system. A split second before he died, the Rift had decided that the Valiant was a nice spot to steal something from in time. It did not take the Master's decaying body; oh, no, no. It instead took the Master's regenerative code, throwing him into a blank spot in time to allow his body to recompose itself back into its same shape as before. He remained there for years; it's still unknown how many exactly, until each cell in his body had finally restored itself into that same mad man. His deeds had been undone in the real world, and the Rift decided it was finally time to spit him back out...back on to the streets of Cardiff where a second Timelord still remained.
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+ Coffee
+ Pears
+ Running
+ Jelly Babies
+ Dancing
+ Singing
+ Suits
+ Looking into people's minds
+ Meat
+ Laser Screwdrivers
dislikes:
- Bananas
- Tea
- Humans
- Daleks
- 18th century
- the Doctor
- Sonic Screwdrivers
- Drums
- Earth
- Guns
strengths:
+ Good Liar
+ Good with Mind Games
+ Fast Runner
+ Good with his Laser Screwdriver
+ Merciless
+ Fairly good Physical strength
+ Brilliant
+ Can fly a TARDIS
+ Very brave
+ Fantastic Actor
weaknesses:
- Mentally unstable
- Emotionally unstable
- Possible ADHD
- Childish
- Very antsy
- Paranoid
- Quick to flee
- Unreliable
- Obsessive
- Bipolar
secrets:
"Me, me, me...my Scarlett letter...probably has to be that Women aren't that appealing. I mean...I'll shag one, but...I can't quite see myself with a woman; Lucy was just something I used to blend in. Just...don't tell anyone, yeah?"
fears:
"To be perfectly honest, I...I don't...really know. I'm...scared that I really am going mad, like everyone says. That...the drums really are just in my head; that they're not real and...I'm nothing but a lunatic...I'm scared of being alone; I don't want to be the last of my species. I'm scared of Rats and the Darkness still makes me shiver...but I'm secretly scared of just being left alone again..."
habits:
"I talk about meat a lot. Meat and Drums...and my mood swings a lot. I'm very antsy; I can't stay sitting in a single spot for too long. I have to be doing something all the time...and, I like to sing. And dance. Yep."
overall personality:
Master is a very hard one to describe. They say he's mad; that he's wild and uncontrollable, and will scam you out of house and home. That he's a ruthless monster ready to run in and destroy planets as a whole with just a press of his magic wand...or, Laser Screwdriver, if you manage to look at it close enough. There are tales that claim he once brought an entire planet of soldiers down with three words...that the skies roar and thunder smashes upon his arrival. That he's a man powerful beyond on humanly--and alien--belief, and he's a force never to be messed with. A man like a god that walked with the living, whose power could only be matched by the very man who was the Oncoming Storm. They said he was a walking disaster, and a force to be feared by many,
...Little did they know, Master isn't half as bulky, or strong, or manly as they perhaps imagined. At least, not in this Regeneration. Currently, he is on his 6th, and he's got six more to go if he keeps it up. He's more of...a scrawny guy; he's very, very goofy when prompted and is even rather lighthearted at times, but he's not one to be taken for granted. True, his attention is all over the place, and he does tend to act more like a child than a Timelord that is over nine hundred. He tends to be very bouncy and hyperactive, throwing jokes left and right and very rarely proving to take a conversation or topic seriously unless it involves someone's death which he can potentially watch if he plays his cards right. He's more interested in his personal gain than the gain of a large group of people, and shiny things seem to entice him fairly easily.
When angered, he's a deadly force to be dealt with. He goes on a rampage and blows out, yelling and cursing and killing all those who get in his way. He stands for nothing and will even laugh as he watches those potentially important lives diminish into nothing but a lump of meat. To him, humans are nothing but piles of rubble; simple rubbish that can be thrown away at any given time. They are all beneath him, for he's a Timelord; but, not just any Timelord. He's one of the only two Timelords left in existence. The power of Time and Space itself revolves around his fingers, and he refuses to believe he is at the level of a worthless human. Unlike his counter part, the Doctor, Koschei believes he is above all; above the laws and above all lives, and that he, and he alone, will rule above them all.
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St. Mungo's...a lovely place to work at, it is. A beautiful hospital, both large and plentiful with willing staff and loyal workers. Everyone is always so friendly; everyone puts on a smile and tends to those who need of their help. All are welcome, and are taken, and all are tended to with only the utmost care; it was, and still is, one of the most respected hospitals known the the wizarding world, and this was a title that all who worked there held with pride. Every medical wand was checked on a daily basis to make sure it was in only the best of shape; every plant with special properties was cared of like the very children that they helped witches, and the occasional wizard, give birth to. Each animal with a special medical property was babied and spoiled, given the affection of hundreds of wizards and witches that cared for it, and was kept in only its tip-top physical shape. Yes, yes...St. Mungo's was a Hospital that was clearly the work of a man with pride; a Hospital that was held upon the shoulders of a strong, wise, bold Wizard that could walk down the streets with his chin up in the air and an air of pride as he did so.
...At least, that's what they all say. Nobody is quite sure who the very Head of the Hospital is, unless you've been there extensively; on studies, rehab, or you just plain screw up more than you should. Sometimes he'll even pop out if you're just a medical enigma, for the other Wizard Doctors. Whatever it is, if it's grave enough, or important enough, will you ever get to see the Head of St. Mungo. Many rumours fly about of who he is; tales of what he's done and secrets of his past. Some say, the Hospital is run by a Meerkat. That it's run by simple talking animal, as they are quite common in this world. Some even say that it's a little boy who runs it all; a boy genius with knowledge far beyond his years. And then there are the stories that St. Mungo is run by some psychopathic idiot who has adopted a Ferret as his child, since nobody will ever pay attention to him. Oh, and lets not forget the ever popular tale that St. Mungo is run by only the strongest, wisest, most feared wizard in the medical field...
And that is, exactly, when little old Ren comes in. A simple man, of simple tastes, with simple needs and simple words. He's far less than most would ever expect; he stands at six-foot-one, and is usually seen wearing a brown suit with baby-blue pin stripes on it. There are times, like this specific day, where the man would wear his thick, black-rimmed glasses, which made his already small eyes look just a pinch larger; the very light, vivid brown popping out like the colours of a marker. His hair is usually crazy; a brown that matches his eyes and bounces most all over the place, and it's usually styled with a small spike at the very end of it above his forehead, giving him a cockatoo-like effect. Contrary to popular belief, Ren...isn't even all that bold, or strong, or intimidating. He's...thin, and lanky, and oh so very shy. So soft spoken and timid, it's near to impossible to believe.
Maybe that's why he rarely came out of his office; why he wasn't very well known, even by his own employees. To most, he was just a Myth; the Mysterious owner of the prestigious St. Mungo was a mere illusion to keep everyone distracted from some dark secret hidden within the Boss' office...but in reality, it was just a small, shy, simple man, of simple tastes, with simple needs and simple words. Known by few, but cherished dearly by those he relates with. Not many like to talk about him, or talk to him, for that matter. On his monthly routine, many of the wizards stop and ask what some strange man is doing walking around, looking over everyone's work. It's always a bit unnerving for most, but they all grow used to it, after a while. Everyone knows the Boss isn't one to be messed with; oh, no, no. Nobody messes with the mysterious man that appears once a month. Not ever.
Truth is, Ren never did mingle with his employees...never did he take the time to get to know them personally. He's very simply, a shy, shy man. He speaks not until he's spoken to first, and most of his words come out fumbled and stuttered, if he does choose to speak at all. It's not that he's anti-social, or that he hates everyone...not that he is aggressive or will snap at anyone, or so much as speak above a hushed tone. He's just different; a coward, to put it nicely. A man with not too many friends, with no family or children or lovers of his own...and today just happened to be the day he chose to do his monthly routine around the Hospital. It was something he didn't like doing, and he knew it made a few of his employees uncomfortable to see that strange man simply walk about, but it was a check up he had to do, to make sure nothing was out of order.
He started off on the ground floor, simply roaming about and keeping a watchful eye over the silly students who got themselves in the strangest of accidents during their classes; there were times he wondered how, exactly, they managed to do that in the first place. Then came the first floor, where mostly animal-handlers and the more troublesome students would end up after they had poked that Gryphon one too many times...and ended up not having anything to poke it with, afterwards. Nevermind that; and now off to the third floor, where panicked parents would bring their infants at the first sign of hiccups. It was sad, really, how adults thought every little thing happened to their infant was a disease, when it turned out to be something like a simple cough or sneeze. Next up was the Third floor; nothing too eventful there, just the classic child with ruptured ear drums and the occasional hand stuck within the Man-Eating Venus Flytrap. Skipping over to the Fourth floor were the more serious injuries; most of the adults were there, unlike the lower floors. They were the ones who had gotten into actual fights and had ended up a bit too roughed-up for comfort. He didn't always like this floor; all he ever heard was the screaming of grown men when you hardly even touched them.
And last, but never least, was the more quiet, calm room of them all. The Fifth floor...this was, quite obviously, the room where most family members would gather to visit their beloveds...where those with a kind heart would come to see and core for those they adored and held so dear to their hearts. True, their love cost them a ridiculous amount of money for a sandwich that wasn't half that good, but it was the thought that count, and Ren's wallet wasn't complaining, either. He decided, today, he'd finally sit and rest for a bit; give himself some fresh air rather than all those used up carbon atoms in his office. He scurried silently over to one of the couches; a blue mug up sugary tea in one hand, while his other pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Mmn..." He thrummed somewhat loudly, eyes glazing over the cleanliness of his hospital. He couldn't help but smile to himself, chocolate brown eyes scanning over all the visitors around. He wouldn't be going in for a while at least, he thought, and maybe this could give him a chance to mingle with his employees...whatever it was, he decided he might as well enjoy the day while he still could.
credits! template by MOLLIVER ! @ Caution 2.0.
lyrics are from "one more time" by the epically awesome daft punk.
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