The Master
Jun 15, 2017 13:41:31 GMT -5
Post by The Master on Jun 15, 2017 13:41:31 GMT -5
Canon
Character Image
Name: The Master (Other names: Harold Saxon, Koschei)
Age: Around 900 years old
Gender: Male
Species: Timelord
Planet of Origin: Gallifrey
Occupation:Lord and Master of the Universe
Character Image
Name: The Master (Other names: Harold Saxon, Koschei)
Age: Around 900 years old
Gender: Male
Species: Timelord
Planet of Origin: Gallifrey
Occupation:
Physical Description:
The Master before his resurrection (as Harold Saxon) had short mousy brown hair, bordering on grey. His face was kept well-shaven and presentable, as any politician should and stood at 5'9" (1.78m). It was very often that he would wear a general black blazer and black trousers, white shirt and black tie.
It was during his botched resurrection, when Lucy had interrupted it, that he had changed. Though, much of him remained the same, his hair changed to a platinum blonde and his face covered in thin layer of stubble. His clothing changed drastically, from the well-dressed politician to a man ensuring his survival from a dying body; a red shirt, black hoodie and sweat pants. Due to his dying body, his blue skull can be seen from time to time in flashes as his body degenerates.
Personality:
History:
One. Two. Three. Four.
Born in the House of Oakdown on Gallifrey, The Master shared many similarities with his childhood friend, The Doctor, especially in regards to his upbringing. He and The Doctor used to play near his father's estate on the red grass, often sneaking out to drink with the Shobogans, ending up with him fighting six of them at once in a drunken state.
It was from the tender age of eight when The Master went through the initiation of the Timelords; staring into the Untempered Schism. And, it stared right back into him. That was when it started, his madness. He had heard 'war drums', turning out to be the beats of a Timelord's hearts.
Something that plagued him throughout his life. The non-stopping, forever-lasting sound of drums. Little did he know, it had been the Lord President Rassilon who had planted the beat in his head, a plan for when the end of time finally came and to further their own goals.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Since the beginning, he and two others; consisting of The Doctor and The War Chief, joined to the Academy. It was at the Academy where The Master began going by the name of 'Koschei', and often in charge of the parties at the end of term. However, despite being on the same level did not simply mean that he fared well at the Academy, even with recieving a higher cosmic science grade than the Doctor, many of his grades did not match to The Doctor's.
The Master watched as the prizes poured in, but not for him, but for his childhood friend. The spark of the hatred that would fuel him throughout time itself.
During a civil war on Gallifrey, it was The Master who lead a revolt against their Lord President, who at the time was Pundat the Third. Though it did not work, the Lord President soon suffered at the hands of stress, passing the title to Chancellor Slann.
It was only on the second coup against Slann did The Master finally assassinate him, before stealing a TARDIS and beginning his life as a renegade.
One. Two. Three. Four.
During his journey, the boy called Koschei turned into the man as many know as The Master. The Darkheart device combined with the fact Ailla was a spy seemed to tip him over the edge, the last pieces of good, shattered.
He swore his revenge after the Doctor had trapped him within a black hole.
Years continued to pass, several regeneration processes had occurred over the course of time. His own survival paramount. But, as he regenerated, the drumbeats never faded, only growing louder. His thirst for revenge on the Doctor only growing stronger.
2009 was the year that he had become Harold Saxon, taking on the guise as prime minister, took over the Valiant and turned The Doctor into an old man, killing the human population by 1/10th, using the Toclafane.
However, once again, his plans were foiled by Martha Jones, the human companion of The Doctor. Time was reversed a year and a day, just after the president had been assassinated. But, being the eye of the storm, those on board the Valiant still continued to remember. Lucy Saxon continued to remember. She shot him.
One. Two. Three. Four.
He remembered the tears that threatened his childhood friend, the friend that, at one point, killed a Timelord due to the threat that he posed to the both of them as he refused to regenerate. It was out of spite for The Doctor.
Yet, his story was far from over.
Upon being burned by The Doctor on a pyre, he had failed to notice that The Master's ring had fallen. Only to be picked up by the prisoner governor of Broadfell Prison, prepared to sacrifice their lives in order to see the return of their Master. But, Lucy Saxon, used to gain a biological imprint (the last ingredient on the list) had also prepared for this moment.
The potion of Death.
The result was...well, the death of Lucy Saxon and all those merry prison guards. The Master was free, but at a cost. The drums were back, but he was left hungry, suspended between life and death and capable of shooting electrical beams from his hands, his own life force. For this became part of the prophecy, the ploy by Rassilon to 'save' the Timelords. Gallifrey was rising, the Time-lock unsealing itself. Yet, The Master, having not been there towards the end of the Time War, did not realise the overall motive for this.
He had gained world domination through planting and 'replicating' himself through the whole of humankind, with the intent of turning the remaining Timelords into clones of himself. It was when Rassilon arrived that he was told that he had been used all his life, 'a disease of their own making.'
One. Two. Three. Four.
The stand-off.
Rassilon, The Doctor and he stood. A bad remake of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. He watched his old nemesis wield a weapon, a revolver - before his eyes, he had witnessed the rise and fall of Gallifrey once more.
Addition Medical Information: All Timelords have the capability to regenerate, a system in which when their body is either on the brink of death or suffering from a fatal wound, can repair their bodies, in which they change their entire look; from physical to mental, head to toe. The Master has managed to cheat death on several occasions, one being a new body and whole new regeneration cycle, allowing him to be on his 23rd regeneration cycle.
Oh, and he's got two hearts and a body temperature of 16 degrees celcius.
RP Sample:
Some would say that at this point in time, he was a Jack-of-all-trades but Master of none. Though, he didn't like the phrase - because at one defining moment, he was 6 billion people - all across planet Earth. Lord and Master upon high. It was a good feeling.
The human race - monsters and ants. It had been in his palm; from the year that never was to the end of time. He had them under his control.
But, the Lord President had made a fatal error that Christmas.
"You were diseased, be it a disease of our own making."
The words rattled in his head, alongside the drums - oh how he did not miss them. The constant drumming turned into a reminder of unfinished business. He licked his lips, dry and cracked as he could smell food being cooked somewhere nearby...
He thought the drums would have stopped, he thought there would be blissful silence - and the uncertainty of what he would end up doing afterwards without it.
The Master before his resurrection (as Harold Saxon) had short mousy brown hair, bordering on grey. His face was kept well-shaven and presentable, as any politician should and stood at 5'9" (1.78m). It was very often that he would wear a general black blazer and black trousers, white shirt and black tie.
It was during his botched resurrection, when Lucy had interrupted it, that he had changed. Though, much of him remained the same, his hair changed to a platinum blonde and his face covered in thin layer of stubble. His clothing changed drastically, from the well-dressed politician to a man ensuring his survival from a dying body; a red shirt, black hoodie and sweat pants. Due to his dying body, his blue skull can be seen from time to time in flashes as his body degenerates.
Personality:
- Insane
- Brilliant
- Manipulative
- Ruthless
- Scared
- Egotistical
History:
One. Two. Three. Four.
Born in the House of Oakdown on Gallifrey, The Master shared many similarities with his childhood friend, The Doctor, especially in regards to his upbringing. He and The Doctor used to play near his father's estate on the red grass, often sneaking out to drink with the Shobogans, ending up with him fighting six of them at once in a drunken state.
It was from the tender age of eight when The Master went through the initiation of the Timelords; staring into the Untempered Schism. And, it stared right back into him. That was when it started, his madness. He had heard 'war drums', turning out to be the beats of a Timelord's hearts.
Something that plagued him throughout his life. The non-stopping, forever-lasting sound of drums. Little did he know, it had been the Lord President Rassilon who had planted the beat in his head, a plan for when the end of time finally came and to further their own goals.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Since the beginning, he and two others; consisting of The Doctor and The War Chief, joined to the Academy. It was at the Academy where The Master began going by the name of 'Koschei', and often in charge of the parties at the end of term. However, despite being on the same level did not simply mean that he fared well at the Academy, even with recieving a higher cosmic science grade than the Doctor, many of his grades did not match to The Doctor's.
The Master watched as the prizes poured in, but not for him, but for his childhood friend. The spark of the hatred that would fuel him throughout time itself.
During a civil war on Gallifrey, it was The Master who lead a revolt against their Lord President, who at the time was Pundat the Third. Though it did not work, the Lord President soon suffered at the hands of stress, passing the title to Chancellor Slann.
It was only on the second coup against Slann did The Master finally assassinate him, before stealing a TARDIS and beginning his life as a renegade.
One. Two. Three. Four.
During his journey, the boy called Koschei turned into the man as many know as The Master. The Darkheart device combined with the fact Ailla was a spy seemed to tip him over the edge, the last pieces of good, shattered.
He swore his revenge after the Doctor had trapped him within a black hole.
Years continued to pass, several regeneration processes had occurred over the course of time. His own survival paramount. But, as he regenerated, the drumbeats never faded, only growing louder. His thirst for revenge on the Doctor only growing stronger.
2009 was the year that he had become Harold Saxon, taking on the guise as prime minister, took over the Valiant and turned The Doctor into an old man, killing the human population by 1/10th, using the Toclafane.
However, once again, his plans were foiled by Martha Jones, the human companion of The Doctor. Time was reversed a year and a day, just after the president had been assassinated. But, being the eye of the storm, those on board the Valiant still continued to remember. Lucy Saxon continued to remember. She shot him.
One. Two. Three. Four.
He remembered the tears that threatened his childhood friend, the friend that, at one point, killed a Timelord due to the threat that he posed to the both of them as he refused to regenerate. It was out of spite for The Doctor.
Yet, his story was far from over.
Upon being burned by The Doctor on a pyre, he had failed to notice that The Master's ring had fallen. Only to be picked up by the prisoner governor of Broadfell Prison, prepared to sacrifice their lives in order to see the return of their Master. But, Lucy Saxon, used to gain a biological imprint (the last ingredient on the list) had also prepared for this moment.
The potion of Death.
The result was...well, the death of Lucy Saxon and all those merry prison guards. The Master was free, but at a cost. The drums were back, but he was left hungry, suspended between life and death and capable of shooting electrical beams from his hands, his own life force. For this became part of the prophecy, the ploy by Rassilon to 'save' the Timelords. Gallifrey was rising, the Time-lock unsealing itself. Yet, The Master, having not been there towards the end of the Time War, did not realise the overall motive for this.
He had gained world domination through planting and 'replicating' himself through the whole of humankind, with the intent of turning the remaining Timelords into clones of himself. It was when Rassilon arrived that he was told that he had been used all his life, 'a disease of their own making.'
One. Two. Three. Four.
The stand-off.
Rassilon, The Doctor and he stood. A bad remake of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. He watched his old nemesis wield a weapon, a revolver - before his eyes, he had witnessed the rise and fall of Gallifrey once more.
Addition Medical Information: All Timelords have the capability to regenerate, a system in which when their body is either on the brink of death or suffering from a fatal wound, can repair their bodies, in which they change their entire look; from physical to mental, head to toe. The Master has managed to cheat death on several occasions, one being a new body and whole new regeneration cycle, allowing him to be on his 23rd regeneration cycle.
Oh, and he's got two hearts and a body temperature of 16 degrees celcius.
RP Sample:
Some would say that at this point in time, he was a Jack-of-all-trades but Master of none. Though, he didn't like the phrase - because at one defining moment, he was 6 billion people - all across planet Earth. Lord and Master upon high. It was a good feeling.
The human race - monsters and ants. It had been in his palm; from the year that never was to the end of time. He had them under his control.
But, the Lord President had made a fatal error that Christmas.
"You were diseased, be it a disease of our own making."
The words rattled in his head, alongside the drums - oh how he did not miss them. The constant drumming turned into a reminder of unfinished business. He licked his lips, dry and cracked as he could smell food being cooked somewhere nearby...
He thought the drums would have stopped, he thought there would be blissful silence - and the uncertainty of what he would end up doing afterwards without it.
