bakerstreet | A Picture is Worth.... Meme

A Picture is Worth.... Meme

A Picture is Worth.... Meme
This ain't your mama's meme. Forget your RNG, forget your tired old prompts.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
It's easy. Comment with your character. Then go comment around.
But instead of pre-filled prompts with words or numbers, you find a gif or image (any gif/image from any canon or scenario you please) that sets the scene.
The picture is the prompt.

WARNING: THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY. AND POSSIBLY NSFW AND THERE MAY BE TRIGGERS.
Some images will not be able to be hidden behind cuts, so please be aware that triggery material may be found within.

If you post an image that is violent or sexual in nature please LINK it, do not embed it into the comment.

Feel free to use this template to stick your image in there.

Good resources for images/gifs are weheartit or tumblr. For not so safe for work gifs/images go here and here.

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[A storm brews over London. Thunder cracks at Piccadilly Circle and bolts of lightning pop at Big Ben as a swell of heavy rain come down with the ferocity and sound of a stampede of horses. While everyone with a lick of sense and sanity are busy running and ducking from the rain, the Master has neither of those things. Putting on a thick, wool trench coat to keep warm, he also brings along an umbrella, just in case the lightning should die down.

He slips out of his high-rise flat in upper London, determined on finding a proverbial glass to knock down. The trivial, almost monotonous affair of human business and politics bores him to tears. He needs something to keep his mind occupied and head mostly down until his dear friend shows his face again.

Ah, the darling Doctor. You'd think that, with the way the Master's been acting lately, that he's gotten over his little war with him; that perhaps he really has turned over a new leaf because of the events of Christmas of 2009. You're wrong, you're stupid, bye-bye now. Anyways, the Master is walking through the rain now, unaffected by the rain droplets slapping across his sharp cheeks. He merely raises the collar of the coat, looking all mysterious beneath a halo of a street lap before he turns the corner down an alleyway. He's unconcerned about the lurking criminals in the darkness -- if there should be any --; he's got bigger fish to fry.]

[When the Doctor opens the door of his TARDIS to be peppered with rain drops - and that is a very accurate way of putting it - he makes a most dignified sound and quickly shuts it again. He then proceeds to turn the rooms inside-out and upside-down in hunt for something more rain-appropriate, because he's not one to stay in the TARDIS just because of bad weather but he doesn't much feel like getting utterly soaked.

Once he manages to find a raincoat (a yellow one, hah), he wraps himself tightly in it, pulls the hood over his head and slips out of the TARDIS.

There is a familiar pang unlike any other that he hasn't felt for a long time as he marches down the street, one that started as just barely a tickle at the back of his mind until he's passed the crossroad. He stops dead then - it can't be - and backtracks as he leans backwards and peers to the right just in time to see a shape disappear in-between buildings.

He would be truly, truly foolish not to follow, as much as he wants to believe the sense of recognition is nothing whatsoever. The rain has since long seeped through his shoes and his trousers where the coat doesn't cover, but he doesn't notice as he finds himself pretty much running towards the corner and skidding into the alleyway.]

[Stopping for a moment, his nose twitches; it's not the nearby, overflowing rubbish bins that causes it, but the feeling, the sense of another one like him. He smirks and lets out a soft snort before pressing on, more quickly. An alleyway stinking of yesterday's lunch during a storm is not the place for the touching reunion the Master expects.

There's a warehouse a couple of blocks away that he has the keys to. A benefit of mingling with human politicians is the access to all of their playthings, connections, and real estates. Humans are such trusting creatures. With his destination and goal in mind, the Master almost jogs there. The Doctor would follow him; they both always follow each other. Slipping through the door, the he tidies up a bit; placing a trap here, rewiring the lights, y'know, evil stuff.]

[The Doctor is always running.

It can be for a number of reason, most of which he rather enjoys. But in this moment, with that feeling, the running comes with too loud beating of his hearts and his throat almost twisting, feeling clogged, because he doesn't know what to expect and he can't help but being worried. If it is...

Well, of course it is. Who else would it be? He can see the man moving with a goal in mind and that means they both know the other one is there. That answers everything.

He slows to a stop outside the warehouse and wipes at his forehead - water is dripping from his nose despite the hood at this point - licks his lips and swallows before he pushes open the door. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he grips his sonic screwdriver, firmly, because you never know.]

[The Master's hanging back near the office across from where the Doctor's entered, waiting patiently. He's waited for a few years, he's sure he can wait a few more seconds; that's a difference between this regeneration and the previous one; he can wait.

The Master's planning on making his appearance after the Doctor starts to become frustrated. He was always so good on frustrating him; them being in two different bodies shouldn't make a lick of difference there.]

[The silence shouldn't surprise him, and he can't say that it really does either. It definitely doesn't mean that the Master isn't here. It means that he's here, and that he likely hasn't changed all that much, and that's most likely not good.

Once he's closed the door, he pushes his hood down and pulls his sonic screwdriver out to point it at the ceiling. See if he can turn on the lights.]

[And see that the lights don't flicker on; the light controls are deadlocked; he doesn't want to reveal the surprise too early. If the Doctor accomplishes anything, a lone light off in a corner shuts off, enveloping him in a musty darkness. The Master moves to the door, standing along the wall, carefully listening.]

Oh, that is rude!

[So, so rude, mate. He's going to try turning that light back on, because just a little bit of light is better than none.]

[He grins, inching his body into the doorway, though, in the dark, the Doctor probably can't see him.] You still scared of the dark, dear?

[Oh, this is a rather smart spot, because it's a little difficult to tell where the sound is coming from with the way it bounces off the walls. But, at least, that means the Master is still in the room...

He reaches out his arm to scan it with the screwdriver.]

The dark is a very unpleasant place to be sometimes. I do prefer the light.

[The Master does like his acoustics; it's a large part why he specifically chose this place to confront the Doctor in; it's spacious, well-built, and empty. Funny thing, though, because this well-thought out planning may be all for naught; the Master's finding out that he can't hold back the excitement at getting to play with the Doctor again. He edges his way out the door, back resting against the wall.]

I was under the impression that you preferred working in the shadows. That is why you faked your death, is it not?

[There's a very slight pause, because how did the Master know that? But the Doctor isn't going to let it get to him, not any further than being... curious, and he finally, slowly, starts walking across the floor.]

I do admit, I'm not one for being overly flashy and letting everyone know of my poking, but that's got nothing to do with it.

I just never stop running.

[He barks out a laugh, unable to hold it in.] Are you really unlike the man I've known for centuries? Have you changed that much from your former selves?

[The Doctor has always been overly flashy, ever since their Academy days.]

[Another pause. Well.]

All right, I'm lying, you got me. I like attention. But only for a little while. But enough about me; what happened with you?

Oh no, I insist. I must know. What happened with you and that saucy little archaeologist? [Taking the laser screwdriver from his coat pocket and, pointing it over his shoulder, turns the lights on. He take a few steps from the door, stepping out from behind a pillar. The Master smirks, eyes flickering over the Doctor.]

Hello dear.

[He blinks, just a little, against the flood of light and, see, this is why the Master is the flashy one out of them nowadays. Really.

There's something ominous about the way shoes echo when you walk. Not that he's going to stop - not until he's reached the Master.]

Hello. Don't feel like telling me all about how you survived? Or are you not much for that this time around?

[The Master knows he's a diva; that's already been established like a billion years ago. His face is a façade of cool and calmness, his hands stuck in his trousers pockets. He's well aware that the Doctor could attack him at anytime, but he has no worries about this. He has everything under control.]

I do have to admit that recounting stories of my shining brilliance does get a little dull after a while. Especially in the company of monkeys like these humans you're so fond of.

Edited 2012-08-24 23:08 (UTC)

Does it? I never thought so.

[Finally, he slows to a stop in front of the Master and as soon as he does, he leans abruptly forward and squints at his hair.]

You're ginger.

Edited 2012-08-25 07:28 (UTC)

It's nice to see your powers of observation are still astute. You know what else I've got, though? [Taking his forefinger, he runs it along his thick, ginger brow.]

Eyebrows.

You're ginger!

[Who cares about your eyebrow. You are ginger, and the Doctor looks as if that's the greatest scandal he's ever seen because you are ginger and the Doctor just starts pacing because THE FRUSTRATION.

He walks in one direction and wags the screwdriver around, walks in the other and does the same, and then he turns abruptly towards the Master and does the same.]

You're ginger. I've always wanted to be ginger, I've regenerated ten times and I haven't been ginger once, and then you go and regenerate and you're ginger! That's not fair!

Is it?

Edited 2012-08-25 20:59 (UTC)

[He lets out a long-suffering, almost annoyed sigh. The Doctor seems to be more concerned and angry about the colour of his hair rather than the fact that the Master is alive. Clearly this regeneration's priorities are messed up.]

Perhaps you should gain better control of your body when you regenerate. If you want to be ginger so much, choose it.

[Time Lords do have the ability to choose their appearance and personality.]

[You mean this regeneration's priorities are brilliant. Besides, he figures he might as well just not be surprised by the master surviving anymore, since he never seems to die.]

You're talking as if I ever want to die. What person thinks of how the want to look when they're dying?

[There are much more important things to think about (surprisingly), like friends and how much or little he actually wants to go.

He points a finger at the Master.]

Don't answer that.

I do still look better than you.

[Narrowing his eyes down at the Doctor's finger.] Your fretting says otherwise.

My... fretting? Over what?

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A Picture is Worth.... Meme

i am so hard on you ;;

Terribly, terribly hard how dare you :|

i'll play you a song on the world's smallest violin then ;;

O-oh. Oh no, that's touching. ;u;

yeah, i know. i'm too good on you sometime ;3;

Truly. And here I wanted to stay mad. Or annoyed.

oh bb, don't be mad at me :B

Not mad, not mad

right, i'm leaving after this! i can't keep procrastinating.

But procrastinating-- I mean. Okay byeee :c

okay, i can procrastinate and fuck around till tomorrow morning.

Ahaha timezones...

it's four in the afternoon over here; fourteen hours to go. beep boop.

11:30 PM here I'm staying up for you, this time

no, please. go to bed. i'm not worth that!

Hush, you are

oh you're such a charmer <3

I try, I try <33

<3!

Re: <3!

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sorry for the late response, bro :|

S'all good. Life got crazy for a while for me anyway because moving out