Игра ведётся в альтернативной сериалу вселенной, всё идёт кувырком, и никто понятия не имеет, что предпринять, чтобы история, наконец-то, пошла своим чередом. Запрыгивайте в будку, пока не поздно!
Из далёких глубин космоса, из самых абсурдных уголков Вселенной вас приветствуем мы, люди, которые любят Доктора Кто во всех его великолепных проявлениях и которые хотят в него играть! Маятник качается, Алиса падает в кроличью нору, законы времени снова нарушаются, в чьи-то головы снова заползают концептуальные сущности, гусеницы потягивают кальян, а у воронов и письменных столов не находится ничего общего... Или, всё-таки? Давайте отправимся в путешествие вместе!
It was a hot morning in the Master's California residence. He woke up all sweaty and exhausted. He tried switching on all his conditioning units, but... Читать дальше



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Irving Braxiatel, Master


                                Earth, Sicily, Monastery of San Nicolò l'Arena; No time like the present

A timid little ambassador from Gallifrey was carrying some very important papers home. While exiting the vortex, he was attacked by a rebel force dreaming of destroying Gallifrey's dominance in the area of time travel. The TARDIS crashed, and various sides are trying to claim it. But even at a time like this, can unexpected alliances be trusted?


Anglo-Saxon dialect, falling plaster, and a lot of back-stabbing just before breakfast.

Trigger warning:
There will probably be a lot of corpses, streams of blood and some psychological suffering. We assume. Judging by the characters.

Отредактировано Noah Goodman (2018-06-21 14:14:12)



It was a hot morning in the Master's California residence. He woke up all sweaty and exhausted. He tried switching on all his conditioning  units, but their sound soon started irritating him even more than the heat did. He growled and got up brusquely. He was one foot in the bathroom when he heard the noise. The noise was a shrieking sound alarm and it came from an alien ship detector that the Master always carried with him.
The Master frowned and walked to the device. It was showing a frantic trajectory of a ship in agony - the space craft was crashing. Something in its accelerated fall attracted the Master's attention: the dot which represented the ship did not consistently stayed on the screen, it was disappearing for a fraction of a second, and then appearing again, as if diving from and back to reality. The crashing ship was a TARDIS.
Tripping and almost falling, the Master pulled on the first clothes that came into hand and ran like a madman to his car, almost forgetting to put on his shoes.
20 minutes later he was sitting inside his speed jet, biting his lips and nervously beating some fast rhythm with his fingers.
All right, it could technically be any time ship, but the Master felt sure that it was a TARDIS. It wasn't just wishful thinking, couldn't have been. The Master was so tired of being stuck, so very tired of being stuck on this degenerate planet. He had only the best things, but they still were worthless and inadequate in comparison with what he used to have. Only now, when a chance of escape became so real, he realised how stifling his forced exile had been. If it were a TARDIS, even a crashed TARDIS - damn it, any time ship would do! Then he would be able to escape, to put forward all his plans, moves, strategies, revenge, battles! He clasped his fingers firmly.
He could not be late.

He tracked the fallen ship to an old builing that looked like some church or other. The TARDIS had partially buried itself to the ground on the impact. It was a TARDIS. The Master approached it sturdily. He did not know how much time he had, and he did not even bothered to check if the local authorities  spotted the ship as well. If he were lucky, then the pilot had had the camouflage screens on.
The pilot... that's a thought. The impact was not strong enough to have killed them. Oh well, the Master thought, he would not be as inefficient as the impact.
He was able to access the ship very easily. The console room was empty, and there was a trail of blood going from the console to the doors. The pilot must have escaped into the wild then. Poor sod.
The console was damaged, but not beyond repair. He could fix it and he definitely could salvage enough parts for his purposes. On the floor near the console there was a strong box with a gallifreyan seal on it. The Master raised his brows - could he really be that lucky? A TARDIS and some gallifreyan secrets? He bent over the box examining the locks, but did not have a chance to do anything practical, for he suddenly realised he was no longer alone.

Отредактировано Noah Goodman (2018-06-15 20:14:48)



After 16-hour Gallifreyan International Policies Committee meeting, Braxiatel felt that he definitely needed a break. At least a couple of hours. Maybe some nice wine, interesting book, his favourite comfy chair. That is all he was asking for. Just for a couple of hours. Although, once Braxiatel entered his relaxation room inside his TARDIS he felt that something was not right. Well, at first glance, everything looked as usual: peaceful and calm. And relaxing. But, after a closer inspection Braxiatel found the reason of his disturbance: blinking red light from the console. Here we go. No rest for the wicked.

He reluctantly came to the console and checked the cause of the alarm. Apparently, he received three incredibly urgent messages a couple of hours ago. Once he had noticed that these messages were from the CIA, his first instinct was to immediately cut off all the communications and take off as far as possible. He knew that lot! Once they need something they will find you even if you are hiding inside a crystal. And he promised Romana that he would behave. So, it would probably be better not to use tactics that his brother was so fond of, save everybody’s time and find out what they wanted.

While Braxiatel was reading the messages, his expression changed from amazed to angry to very angry and finally to extreme concentration. People who knew him closely, knew that it was the most dangerous Braxiatel. Sort of Braxiatel who is either ready to blow up half of the Universe or sacrifice himself for the greater good depending on the situation. So, if to omit all the unnecessary details from these messages, CIA told him that they had sent a bunch of Very Important Papers regarding You-Know-What addressed to You-Know-Who and as it usually happens with CIA and especially important missions, something went wrong. Now Braxiatel’s task was to make everyone happy and along the way make sure that nobody gets hold of the ambassador, the messages, the TARDIS and all that jazz. You know the drill.

Braxiatel figured out that he was in trouble, as soon as he found out what sort of papers were on that time ship. The sort of papers that he would rather no one ever see. How on Gallifrey, did they even get those documents? And then he figured out that he was even in a deeper trouble, as soon as he has checked the coordinates. Damned Earth! This planet is like a massive magnet for all imaginable issues, problems, catastrophes, disasters and bad luck. At least now he had an idea what he was dealing with. He was dealing with the worst possible outcome. Although, the moment Irving arrived and checked outside view he had to admit that the surroundings were pretty impressive, especially that old monastery. Come to think of it, one of his buildings in the Collection was constructed in the same style. Braxiatel verified that his communicator displayed the location of the Ambassador's time ship, closed the door to his TARDIS and sent it one minute in the future. That was just the way he used to park his TARDIS under hostile environment. 

He located other TARDIS quite fast. Along the way he noticed some bloodstains as well. Nonetheless Braxiatel decided to deal with it later, since he had caught sight of movement near the entrance to the TARDIS. No wonder somebody attempted to get there, door was wide open. Before going in Braxiatel made sure that nobody else was around. Thankfully no bystanders so far and there was a chance to resolve this conflict quickly and quietly. He entered the TARDIS and immediately understood that this was going be very long and tiresome day. He quickly examined the man, who bent over something near the console. Master looked a bit disheveled, half-dressed and agitated. Just the way he is supposed to look while planning his ridiculous deeds. And he definitely had already noticed Braxiatel’s presence.

- Master. If you are lost I would gladly accompany you to the nearest lunatic asylum. Or wherever you usually waste your time these days.

Отредактировано Irving Braxiatel (2018-06-18 14:21:35)



The Master froze for a moment. Than a wide giddy grin broke his face into two parts. He slowly straightened and started to turn around, and while doing so he very carefully slipped his hand into his pocket.
- Oh, look what the cat's dragged in! Uptight, upright, high and mighty lord Cardinal. Oh, I haven't intruded, have I? This isn't your ship, I take it?
Braxiatel looked positively bemused, even more bemused then usual, if it even were possible. All the time the Master knew him, he looked like a humourless professor who was desperately trying to remain in control of his classroom. He must never find out the Master's true motives and his circumstances. Luckily, a fallen TARDIS and secret gallifreyan documents can interest almost every Time Lord.
- How sad. Romana is making you run her errands? Tut-tut. Or, - the Master nodded to the strongbox and displayed excitment. - Is this actually yours?
The Master knew very well, however, the Braxiatel was a dangerous adversary, despite his appearance. The Master admitted to himself that he would prefer to find someone else on board the ship. If he was here, then it had to be something terribly important. So the Master must have it. And he must be very careful, very attentive and very precise. He felt adrenalin rushing to his head, and all his muscles strained as in a tiger who was preparing to jump.
On the surface, though, he kept his air of mockish amusement.
- This is a nice little situation we've got here. I don't feel I want to surrender these to you. Shall we toss a coin? Or - I could simply say that since I've got here first, I will claim the lot.
He was still smiling, but all the pretence merriness disapeared from his eyes.
- Uh-Uh! Don't move. I will shoot you, even if it spoils my favourite trousers.

Отредактировано Noah Goodman (2018-06-18 15:14:58)



Braxiatel did not feel much intimidated by this ridiculous threat, mainly amused. What kind of an idiot carries a weapon in his trousers' pocket? - How predictable, Master. I did not expect less. I only hope it is not some sort of gun, is it? I really wouldn’t recommend you try firing a weapon here. And it is not only because I appreciate your fancy trousers, I really do, I quite understand that sometimes it is pretty difficult to find good ones. But you may accidentally destroy the rest of what left of this TARDIS. - "And those precious documents you are standing next to."

Thanks to the Doctor, who was spending too much time on Gallifrey now and then, new defending mechanism was implemented for all TARDISes. Basically, it was a kind of dumpening field, which was supposed to kick-start once TARDIS emergency system was activated. This field rendered useless most of the weapons. Other weapons began to behave unexpectedly. It was actually weird that the Master didn't know about it, since this system existed for some time already. When was the last time Master visited Gallifrey? 

- Oh, yes – I almost forgot. Before we continue our fascinating conversation, I should make a call. I hope you don't mind if I contact our friends from the CIA and kindly ask them not to join our merry company? Please excuse me. - Braxiatel assumed that there was nothing he can't deal with here by himself, so it would be easier to just call off CIA agents and take those papers right now without involving other Gallifreyans. Information that was contained there was no use to anyone around here, however, it was precious to him. - Joseph, could you please send a message to the CIA and tell them that their services are not required here at the moment and the situation is under control. Thank you. - But there was one more problem that he needed to address.

- I presume it would be less hurtful for you to just surrender the strongbox to me. Probably you don't know, but these days most of them are password protected. And entering wrong sequence, might lead to unpredictable results. - The part about "unpredictable results" was a lie of course, but passwords were very much true. Well yes, it was his great innovation. He spent hundreds of years trying to convince strongbox developers to implement passwords. Yes, Time Lords were careless enough not to bother even with simple passwords, let alone such mindblowing dark magic as encryption! Although now this great innovation of his might backfire, since he didn't know the password either. So, the question was:

- Master, what have you done with the ambassador?

Отредактировано Irving Braxiatel (2018-06-22 13:19:23)



Braxiatel did not look particularly moved by the gun. As usual, he broke forth into a tedious lecture about health and safety. The Master rolled his eyes.
- It's not predictabilty, it's a tried and proven method of a civilized conversation. And do you really think I'm so vain that I would choose my trousers over my protection? You need to sort out your priorities, Braxiatel.
He pondered. The thing about weapons could be true; anyway, the Master was not prepared to risk it - unless it was absolutely necessary. However, there was no need to inform the smug lord cardinal about that. - And who says I've got a firearm anyway? They are so crude and distasteful.
And then Braxiatel did something very interesting - he contacted the CIA and told them not to come. Now, the Master was not particularly keen on the CIA, and he was sure Braxiatel felt self-confident enough to dispence with their services. However, the CIA did not usually look favourable on their services being dispenced with. If they were not allowed to stick their nose in every stinking pile around them, they became moody, like little wounded chickens. And yet - Braxiatel was sure, that they would listen to him and would not come. Did it mean they simply did not bother enough? That would make sense - it would literary kill them if they had to make an extra move and do some additional work. So, they did not bother, but Braxiatel did. And that was interesting.
The Master followed Braxiatel's gaze - his eyes were fixed on the strongbox. Well, well, well. What have we got here.
When asked about the ambassador, the Master gave a voluptuous smile:
- I have eaten him. Devoured him in full, absorbed his whole knowledge and essense.
Somehow, this statement made Braxiatel uneasy.
With a tip of his shoe, The Master touched the upper lid of the strongbox, and his brows went up. He kicked the box abruptly, and it fell on its side, its lid swinging wide open.
- Well, I don't know why you want the fool anyway, - the Master said, visibly bemused. - Not extremely good at closing doors behind him, is he?
To their both utter disappointment, the box was absolutely empty.

Отредактировано Noah Goodman (2018-06-22 14:02:18)



Upon hearing the part of Master’s speech about devouring – all Braxiatel could think of was - “What is wrong with this guy? Has he read too much Stephen King’s books lately or did he attend drama lessons by Vincent Price?” For complete dramatic effect this scene only needed some somber soundtrack and a bit of manic laughter. Although once he saw that the strongbox was empty, all of his snide remarks flew off his mind. From the plus side, now he didn’t have to decipher the password for the strongbox. From all the other sides – the idiot Ambassador decided for whatever insane reason that the papers were going to be safer with him, almost provoking everybody to take their chances with these papers!

This was the moment when he realized that something was out of place here, apart from the Master’s deranged remarks. He started to examine his surroundings more closely in order to unravel what had got his attention. Probably, that was this gray gas-like substance inside the central column. This ‘smoke’ wasn’t unusual in itself, but the way it behaved… He had the feeling that it wasn’t the first time in the last couple of minutes this smoke was spreading all over the column in the same pattern. Next thing he had noticed was that one of the screens abruptly repaired itself and then started to flicker slowly and small cracks that were spreading from its center started to appear on it again. Some really disturbing idea began to form in his mind. 

It was early to tell yet, but it looked like somebody had put one nasty virus in this TARDIS. There was time when he saw similar effects, hundreds of years ago, when he was teaching at the Academy. Some students afflicted with excessive hubris and mediocre intellect decided to test their far from completed project in the Academy Lab without supervision. They ended up with fast-spreading handmade time loop, which was quickly absorbing the classroom with every subsequent iteration. Students were so busy with blamestorming and useless attempts of dead chicken waving that didn’t notice that they themselves became a part of the time loop. It took some time and effort to overcome the disastrous effects and return everything to the initial state. 

Luckily, he still had time to abandon the ship and confine the time loop inside the TARDIS. Braxiatel played with the idea of leaving the Master inside, so that he could endlessly enjoy his own jokes like a hamster on a wheel. And against his better judgment he said:

- Master, before something else devoured you, I would recommend to leave this TARDIS. - And following his own advice he went for the exit.



There were moments in his life - usually they were moments of lazy indulgence and boring moments of observing ever-repetitive patterns of behavior - when Master told himself confidently that nothing could surprise him any more. These weren't happy thoughts (the Master desperately desired to be amused), but they, unfortunatelly, were well-grounded. His multiple years of travellings proved to him that there indeed were universal patterns in behaviour; and only a few evil deeds were shocking enough, in comparison with his own. But at that moment the Master felt positively puzzled. The thing that he saw when his turned around to the console was fascinating. He leaned forward slightly trying to make out the details. Another screen started flickering, then the Master noticed that several switched started playing up - the invisible bubble grew wider. The Master took several cautious steps back, still watching the effect of the trap.
- It's creepy, I grant you, - he said to himself quietly.
- And now that you've left the console room, - he shouted to Irving without turning round. - it's the creepiest thing on the whole ship!
Apparenly, Braxiatel believed this thing to be much more dangerous that the Master. Was it an innate time-lord instinct that made Braxiatel warn the Master against the trap? An instict that usually made time lords reject such disturbances with abhorence? Or was the lord cardinal simply playing a game? The Master would have to see later, but now the situation could be exploited.
- I must say - I simply must, although it makes me sick to articulate that - It was very... well, not "kind", this word does not go with you at all... "Generous"? Hardly that. Maybe "decent"? Well, I do believe you yourself can't remember if you were ever decent, - he started walking towards the doors.  - Magnanimous - that's the word! That was very magnanimous of you. Maybe, we could work something out together, put aside our numerous... Ah.
He walked out of the door and saw that the entrance was surrounded by glum aliens in gawdy military uniforms, all pointing their ridiculously looking guns at him and Braxiatel. Braxiatel looked even more glum than the aliens. He also looked irritated and ever so slightly apoplectic.
The Master slightly raised his hands and smiled.
- You really should consider my offer. Praise the havens you've got with you a man with a plan for every occasion.

Отредактировано Noah Goodman (2018-09-01 02:01:25)


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