Everyone in realityshifted's chat are whores. They're making me do this. Well not making so much as sending brain waves into my head and implying that I ought to do this so they might attempt to lavish me with affection. Of which, I doubt they shall do, because they have attention spans of gnats and hello guys if you're reading this and they often seem to overlook things that could be waving around in their face. I suppose they could even miss loud, blaring sirens. I do mean all of this fondly. Or partially, at least. Some degree of fondness is preferable to none after all.



1. Who are you?
2. Yay! How long have we been RPing together?
3. What was your first impression about our RPs? (i.e., were you nervous, intimidated, disappointed, impressed, amused, annoyed?)
4. First characters we played together?
5. Most amusing scene from one of our RPs?
6. Most depressing?
7. Sappiest/most romantic?
8. Cutest couple from our RPs?
9. Cutest friends?
10. What's your favorite character that I play? Why?
11. Least favorite? Why?
12. Something you'd like to RP/see happen in an RP with me at some point (no matter how random!)?
13. Name a song that reminds you of one of our couples/one of my characters and why you chose it.
14. Anything in particular that makes my style of RPing stand out from others'?
15. Anything I could improve on?
16. Character of mine you'd like to see more of?


Why yes, I am long winded, however did you guess?

I've been doing too many OOC posts lately, but...


As everyone knows, I haven't really been writing anything since November. I can't write for any of my muses right now; it just doesn't work. I've been trying, but I think I might need, at least writing wise, to put them on hiatus instead of pretending that I can manage to write stuff. This tends to happen every time it gets around winter, so hopefully by the time March rolls around, I'll be back to writing, and hopefully get back up to the amount I used to do.

I apologise to all the people who read my prompts, but hopefully things will stop being dumb soon. If anyone needs to reach me or wants to RP with any of my muses, I can be reached at xx derogative xx on AIM, derogative, or auron12001(@)hotmail.com.

For anyone who has been wondering where I've been for the past... almost 20 days: my internet had been shut off January 5th, and only just was brought back up.


...Yeah it sucked. I probably should have used the time for writing, but oh well.

My dear... you know, I don't quite have a proper name for you, do I? You most certainly aren't the Doctor, so that won't do... Ah. Yes, for the purposes of this, your name is now Thomas. I shall change it later and at whim, should it not please me when I refer to you again.


Now, out of the utter kindness of my soul, I've a gift to offer you.

( I spent ages thinking of just the thing for you. )

COMM: fandom_muses - What do you do when you can't sleep?
VERSE: realityshifted
WORD COUNT: 262


One can only manage so much frustration until it becomes abject; until it slowly moves from one thing in the other, a simple transition from annoyance to depression. Or, not even quite depression so much as a sense of listlessness, an inability to garner enough motivation or purpose with which to continue onward in one's endeavours. It's very simple to understand, and the Master has long spent his life attempting to avoid that sort of pointlessness in (or to) his life.

Unfortunately, he has hit that point without so much as fanfare or much to do. After all, what is there to be done? Certainly, he could rule over the Astral Plane with an iron fist- but he knows well enough that it's an empty sort of control, as there are others he can't quite touch; not yet, at least. It would be a hollow rule. He has no true and proper enemies as of the moment - oh, there are Gene Hunt and Sam Tyler, that annoying little wolf goddess, the Doctor's TARDIS, so on and so forth, but it all seems so... removed.

The Master huffs from where he languishes in thought, unsure if he even wants to drag up anger with which to be outraged at his current existence. He could, yes, it's well within his means, but it would achieve nothing. A few people dead, another set enraged and out for blood, but nothing that could keep him entertained for long.

He shoves himself into a sitting position and rubs his temples. When the hell did he let things collapse so?

COMM: muse_shuffle - And when it was all over / I said to myself / Is that all there is to a fire?
VERSE: canon
WORD COUNT: 128
NOTE: Excessive formatting ahead.

( cut to save flists. )

COMM: muses_w_remotes - "You know, your mood swings are kinda giving me whiplash."
VERSE: open
WORD COUNT: 260
NOTES: I'm back, baby! Now to spam everyone's flist with my returned vigour! AAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!



The young man stays to the side of the room. He knows better than to interfere, not now, not while the man he has fallen in with is riding an emotional high. It isn't as if they're something rare, something to cherish and make a spectacle of. No, it's more the fact that such a mood is fragile.

The Master grins, but he knows it's nothing from emotions that would be considered remotely similar to joy. It's a grin rooted in madness, in glee derived from pain and suffering. If only he had come to notice the man was insane before taking up the offer. He didn't linger on the thought long. Though he was travelling with a man who made time itself bend and twist as he liked, there was little to be done to alter the fact that he had joined him.

"Stephan. Come here a moment."

Stephan obeys, because there is little else for him to do. If he disobeys, he knows he will be punished. He's seen what the Master will and can do when others don't listen to him.

"Yes, Master?" Stephan asks.

The Master speaks calmly. "Have you ever seen a star go supernova?"

"No, Master."

"Would you care to?"

He considers, for a moment. If he says no, the Master might allow his mood to swing towards the dour, towards the difficult, the deranged and the like. If he said yes, he would be standing idly by as a star would be turned into nothing more than a collection of coloured gases and a dead husk.

"Certainly."

There really is no other alternative.

As I'm sure everyone's noticed, I have been epic fail with prompts the past month. I may or may not need to hiatus for a little while, as I've been having a writing slump since November and have been under the weather mentally for a bit.

But I'm going to try to tackle the backlog of prompts I do have, along with what I have for this month. If anyone has some suggestions on what they want to see, I'd love the help, it may give my brain a bit of a jumpstart.

COMM: museimagination - “When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.” - Charles Austin Beard
VERSE: canon
WORD COUNT: 191



The lights of cities (as time went on, at least) unerringly blot out the sky. The combination of pollution and the fluorescent streetlights, the headlights of cars, the people up late and working does well to cast an orange glow that can be seen for miles. That is the mark of civilization. That is the mark of technology. That is advancement.

It's almost decadent; the neon lights are a testament to that. The Master knows it and at times revels in it- but not tonight. He has places to be, and he's darting through the midnight crowds that wander the streets. Cities. Always busy, always so alive. It's like a living thing; it beats, it breathes, it writhes.

He chuckles to himself as he slips down a side road, one that is dark and poorly lit. People aren't going that way, and the pressure of the crowd was getting to be just a bit much. Sometimes a man needed his privacy, needed his personal space. Even then, he needs speed to get where he is headed.

And once he arrives, the orange glow to the city's fog will be the least of anyone's worries.