Post by The Master on Aug 24, 2011 6:16:33 GMT -5
Canon
Name: The Master. (Also known as Koscheipopisiva, "Kos", Koschei the Undying, the Accuser, the Morning Star, Colonel Masters, Reverend Magister, Professor Thascalos, Estro, Dr. Emil Keller, Martin Jurgens, Gospodar, Melkur, the Portreeve, Kalid, Sir Gilles Estram, Professor Yana, Harold Saxon, Kos Minwyi, Magos Polymagestus Heinrich Kruller, Jake Hill, and so on and so forth)
Age: Somewhere around 900. But it's hard to say with any certainty, given how many times he's faked his own death, actually died, returned from the dead, and swapped bodies. His own private rule is to not count the downtime.
Species: Gallifreyan. Usually. He has been a human, as well.
Planet of Origin: Gallifrey
Occupation: Criminal mastermind. Would be Universal Despot.
Physical Description: It varies significantly by time and place.
In the wake of his apparent death at in "The Last of the Time Lords", his mind is living in the body of a young man of African ancestry, one Jake Hill. He is athletic, with short black hair and blue eyes and a penchant for black suits.
Following the events of "The End of Time", there are actually two Masters. The first is the Master incarnated in Jake Hill, that body transformed into a Gallifreyan body by the effects of the Immortality Gate.
The other is the Master incarnated in Magos Polymagestus Heinrich Kruller, a Tech-Priest of the Third Great and Bountiful Human Empire. This Master is tall and gaunt, and extensively augmented with cybernetics. The left half of his face is a steel mask with a burning red optic. A linear frame is permanently grafted to his flesh, many of his organs have been augmented or replaced, and mechadendrites sprout like tentacles from his spine. Most of the time, all of this is covered by a black, hooded robe.
Personality: Manipulative. Cynical. Narcissistic and self-serving. Everything else is subject to change.
The Master forced to live in the body of Jake Hill is very much the "Harold Saxon" Master. He is gleefully psychotic, toying with everyone he meats the same way a cat toys with its prey. He is also prone to unexpected fits of rage. And the drums, the omnipresent drums, thunder in his mind, drowning his thoughts in the call to blood and conquest.
The Master transformed into a Gallifreyan once more is different. The thunder of the drums have been silenced, save for the echoes, and he can concentrate for the first time in centuries. He is much more the Master that befriended the young Doctor in their childhood, and the Master that plagued the Doctor throughout his Third incarnation. He plots. He plans. He dreams big, and achieves. He kills without remorse, but without pleasure as well, the way most people would swat a fly. But his body is that of a twenty-five year old Gallifreyan, and hormones and impulses and urges flow through him as well...
The cyborg Master is the distilled hatred and drive and will to power of the Master, reborn in human flesh. He is an amoral monster, willing to take any action, break any law, use any tool, to achieve his goals. He ruled a sector of the galaxy before he was fully cognizant of who he was, and he will have power again. At any cost. There is no more Gallifrey to stop him, and he will rule the universe or burn it for his funeral pyre.
History:
"It began on Gallifrey, as children. Not that you'd call it childhood; more a life of duty. Eight years old, I was taken for initiation, to stare into the heart of the Untempered Schism. There, in the dark, I looked into Time. And I heard it, calling to me...Drums. The never-ending drums..."
The man who would one day shake the heavens as the Master was Loomed as the only son of Marnal Velesethari, Chancellery Castellan of Gallifrey. He was born to a life of duty, groomed by his father to be an heir, to bring honor to the House of Lungbarrow and to the Family by serving as a Chancellary Guard and someday as Chancellary Castellan himself.
Much of the early history of Koscheipopisiva - his Looming name - was lost to the records of the Time Lords even before Gallifrey was lost to time. It is known that he was one of the "Deca Group", ten rebellious students in the Prydonian academy that eventually went on to be the most notorious criminals in the annals of the Time Lords. It is known that he was one of the prime forces behind an attempted coup against the High Council, one that would have succeeded had not the Doctor warned the Lord President.
After fleeing Gallifrey - he was under sentence of discorporation, should he be taken by the Chancellary Guard - he roamed time and space with an eye towards amassing power, prestige, and wealth. Enough to return to Gallifrey at the head of a conquering army, execute the High Council, and to rule.
He was around 500 when he reencountered the Doctor on a nameless backwater in Mutter's Spiral. The inhabitants were primitive enough to call it "Dirt" or "Mud" or "Earth" or some such. The reunion did not go well. For centuries the Doctor and the Master waged war across the Spiral Politic, the Doctor always coming out on top.
Fallout from various schemes caused the Master to burn through his regeneration cycle at a tremendous rate. Within a century of his "reunion" with the Doctor he was on his final life, a whithered, blackened husk, clinging to life through sheer hatred and force of will. Again his plans, this time to use the Eye of Harmony to restart his regenerative cycle, were thwarted by the Doctor.
At the end of his life, trapped in a body that was literally rotting around him, he discovered a secret of immortality. He transferred his consciousness to that of the Keeper of Traken, consuming the man's soul and wearing his hollowed-out body like a glove.
His plans for universal domination and the conquest of Gallifrey, his private war with the Doctor, continued apace. Fueled by the drums, the ever present thunder of the drums, grown louder and louder since his death. Worlds burned. Galactic empires were destabilized.
It was the Daleks, ultimately, that ran him to ground. Defiant to the seeming end, he laughed madly as they sentenced him to extermination, swearing that even death would not stop him.
It almost didn't. Even slain by the Daleks, the most efficient executioners in the Spiral Politic, he managed to return from the grave and nearly take possession of the Doctor. His consciousness was lost to the copy of the Eye of Harmony within the TARDIS of his ancient friend/enemy.
The Master was, it seemed, dead. Forever.
And then came the Last Great Time War. The High Council caught his essence out of the last picoseconds of his life, Loomed him a new body, and put him to the use they had always intended for the Deca. He was a weapon.
The drums. The ever-present drums.
He was a weapon of sheer terror. He burned worlds, murdered planetary civilizations, turned ally against ally in an orgy of blood and slaughter. He crafted the Skaro Degredations, suggested the regen-inf soldiers to the Rani, and embraced the terror of the Could've-been King.
It wasn't enough. The Daleks, implacable, merciless, not knowning fear, finally shattered the transduction barrier and fell upon the Citadel. Still he fought. He fought as they raged their way through the Shining City. He fought as the Halls of Eileithyia burned. But when the Dalek Emperor seized the Cruciform, he could fight no longer.
Gallifrey had fallen. The only hope now was flight.
And he ran. He ran farther and harder than he ever had before. And when he could run no further, when his TARDIS sat on the shores of the Silver Desolation, he hid within the Chameleon Arch. And Professor Yana was born.
The Professor was everything the Master was not, and - quite possibly - everything he had ever secretly wanted to be. A hero. A champion. A noble figure, struggling against the ever-encroaching darkness of the Final Night. Moses, leading the last struggling remnants of humanity to the great final fortress: Utopia. Without Professor Yana, they would have given up. Without him, they would have passed quietly into the Long Dark, forever.
And then the Doctor found him again. And he remembered his fob watch. And the Master, the mad monster of the Last Great Time War, was reborn. The drums thundered and roared.
The reborn Master, drawing on the resources of the Doctor's TARDIS, forged the dying, hopeless remnants of humanity in Utopia into the murderous Toclafane. He made himself Prime Minister of England on a whim, then unleashed his creations on the Earth. The planet ravaged and conquered, he prepared to transform it into an arsenal to conquer first the Sontarans and the Rutan Host, and then the galaxy, and then the universe itself.
He failed. He saw his work unmade. He died, again.
And this is where the history of the Master becomes truly tangled.
Weeks later, two humans fought for a ring. A container. A repository for a "backup" of the consciousness of the Master. One human won, and his prize was death. Death, and the dubious honor of becoming the new host body of the yet again reborn Master. Operating under the name of "Kos Mwinyi", he drew upon caches of resources he'd put away as Harold Saxon, and on his own vast intelligence, to become a prominant figure in the criminal underworld of the United Kingdom. He dealt in performance enhancing drugs, in data, in off-world weapons, consolidating his position.
Meanwhile, disciples of Harold Saxon used an ancient Gallifreyan alchemical technique to twist a biodata sample and bring another iteration of the Master into being. This Master fell into the hands of the British government, used the Immortality Gate to transform the entire human population of Earth into "the Master race", and nearly brought Gallifrey out of the Singularity containing the Time War.
The transformative wave of the Immortality Gate physically transformed "Kos Mwinyi" along with the rest of humanity. His mind, already the Master, was untouched. He laughed, he concentrated, he saw Gallifrey loom in the skies above Earth.
And then the wave was cancelled, and the rest of the human race returned to normal. And "Kos Mwinyi" began to transform as well. But Time Lords have some level of control over the transformation and regeneration of their bodies. He fought and, when the transformation ended, he had returned to the appearance of his host body. But that body was transformed into a Gallifreyan. It was no older than it had been originally, but it was a Time Lord's body.
The drums, the infernal drums, had gone silent. For the first time in centuries, he could think clearly. For the first time since his Initiation, he look at the world without his own private rhythm thundering in his mind, driving him to walk a road of blood and conquest.
He lacks conscience. He lacks remorse. He acts for his own best interests at all times. But he also lacks motivation. The drums are gone, Gallifrey is gone, and without them he lacks... motivation. For the first time in centuries, he struggles to find a purpose.
But this Master is not the only Master.
For a short time, the Master was the entire human race. And he is an expert at psychic control, and he knows the arts of transferring his consciousness from one body to another. And, for a short time, he had more than six billion bodies.
Buried deep in the collective unconsciousness of the human race, fragmented, the consciousness of the Master sleeps. Sleeps, and awaits the day when random chance will bring together enough of the fragments of his mind and will to awaken him once more.
And in the 41st milennia of human history, in the body of a cyborg that tore an arm of the galaxy apart in a war of rebellion against the God-Emperor of the Third Great and Benevolent Human Empire, the Master has awakened. And the drums thunder in his mind, and hate burns in his coal-black heart.
Tremble, peoples of the universe, for the Master is come again.
Medical Conditions: The Master is a psychopath. Although he can pretend - and did so for more than a century on Gallifrey - he has no conscience. No feelings of guilt or remorse, no concern for the feelings or well-being of others. The universe is divided simply into allies and victims. He looks out for his allies as long as they are useful.
He does have his moments, where he performs genuinely selfless deeds. These confuse him.
Name: The Master. (Also known as Koscheipopisiva, "Kos", Koschei the Undying, the Accuser, the Morning Star, Colonel Masters, Reverend Magister, Professor Thascalos, Estro, Dr. Emil Keller, Martin Jurgens, Gospodar, Melkur, the Portreeve, Kalid, Sir Gilles Estram, Professor Yana, Harold Saxon, Kos Minwyi, Magos Polymagestus Heinrich Kruller, Jake Hill, and so on and so forth)
Age: Somewhere around 900. But it's hard to say with any certainty, given how many times he's faked his own death, actually died, returned from the dead, and swapped bodies. His own private rule is to not count the downtime.
Species: Gallifreyan. Usually. He has been a human, as well.
Planet of Origin: Gallifrey
Occupation: Criminal mastermind. Would be Universal Despot.
Physical Description: It varies significantly by time and place.
In the wake of his apparent death at in "The Last of the Time Lords", his mind is living in the body of a young man of African ancestry, one Jake Hill. He is athletic, with short black hair and blue eyes and a penchant for black suits.
Following the events of "The End of Time", there are actually two Masters. The first is the Master incarnated in Jake Hill, that body transformed into a Gallifreyan body by the effects of the Immortality Gate.
The other is the Master incarnated in Magos Polymagestus Heinrich Kruller, a Tech-Priest of the Third Great and Bountiful Human Empire. This Master is tall and gaunt, and extensively augmented with cybernetics. The left half of his face is a steel mask with a burning red optic. A linear frame is permanently grafted to his flesh, many of his organs have been augmented or replaced, and mechadendrites sprout like tentacles from his spine. Most of the time, all of this is covered by a black, hooded robe.
Personality: Manipulative. Cynical. Narcissistic and self-serving. Everything else is subject to change.
The Master forced to live in the body of Jake Hill is very much the "Harold Saxon" Master. He is gleefully psychotic, toying with everyone he meats the same way a cat toys with its prey. He is also prone to unexpected fits of rage. And the drums, the omnipresent drums, thunder in his mind, drowning his thoughts in the call to blood and conquest.
The Master transformed into a Gallifreyan once more is different. The thunder of the drums have been silenced, save for the echoes, and he can concentrate for the first time in centuries. He is much more the Master that befriended the young Doctor in their childhood, and the Master that plagued the Doctor throughout his Third incarnation. He plots. He plans. He dreams big, and achieves. He kills without remorse, but without pleasure as well, the way most people would swat a fly. But his body is that of a twenty-five year old Gallifreyan, and hormones and impulses and urges flow through him as well...
The cyborg Master is the distilled hatred and drive and will to power of the Master, reborn in human flesh. He is an amoral monster, willing to take any action, break any law, use any tool, to achieve his goals. He ruled a sector of the galaxy before he was fully cognizant of who he was, and he will have power again. At any cost. There is no more Gallifrey to stop him, and he will rule the universe or burn it for his funeral pyre.
History:
"It began on Gallifrey, as children. Not that you'd call it childhood; more a life of duty. Eight years old, I was taken for initiation, to stare into the heart of the Untempered Schism. There, in the dark, I looked into Time. And I heard it, calling to me...Drums. The never-ending drums..."
The man who would one day shake the heavens as the Master was Loomed as the only son of Marnal Velesethari, Chancellery Castellan of Gallifrey. He was born to a life of duty, groomed by his father to be an heir, to bring honor to the House of Lungbarrow and to the Family by serving as a Chancellary Guard and someday as Chancellary Castellan himself.
Much of the early history of Koscheipopisiva - his Looming name - was lost to the records of the Time Lords even before Gallifrey was lost to time. It is known that he was one of the "Deca Group", ten rebellious students in the Prydonian academy that eventually went on to be the most notorious criminals in the annals of the Time Lords. It is known that he was one of the prime forces behind an attempted coup against the High Council, one that would have succeeded had not the Doctor warned the Lord President.
After fleeing Gallifrey - he was under sentence of discorporation, should he be taken by the Chancellary Guard - he roamed time and space with an eye towards amassing power, prestige, and wealth. Enough to return to Gallifrey at the head of a conquering army, execute the High Council, and to rule.
He was around 500 when he reencountered the Doctor on a nameless backwater in Mutter's Spiral. The inhabitants were primitive enough to call it "Dirt" or "Mud" or "Earth" or some such. The reunion did not go well. For centuries the Doctor and the Master waged war across the Spiral Politic, the Doctor always coming out on top.
Fallout from various schemes caused the Master to burn through his regeneration cycle at a tremendous rate. Within a century of his "reunion" with the Doctor he was on his final life, a whithered, blackened husk, clinging to life through sheer hatred and force of will. Again his plans, this time to use the Eye of Harmony to restart his regenerative cycle, were thwarted by the Doctor.
At the end of his life, trapped in a body that was literally rotting around him, he discovered a secret of immortality. He transferred his consciousness to that of the Keeper of Traken, consuming the man's soul and wearing his hollowed-out body like a glove.
His plans for universal domination and the conquest of Gallifrey, his private war with the Doctor, continued apace. Fueled by the drums, the ever present thunder of the drums, grown louder and louder since his death. Worlds burned. Galactic empires were destabilized.
It was the Daleks, ultimately, that ran him to ground. Defiant to the seeming end, he laughed madly as they sentenced him to extermination, swearing that even death would not stop him.
It almost didn't. Even slain by the Daleks, the most efficient executioners in the Spiral Politic, he managed to return from the grave and nearly take possession of the Doctor. His consciousness was lost to the copy of the Eye of Harmony within the TARDIS of his ancient friend/enemy.
The Master was, it seemed, dead. Forever.
And then came the Last Great Time War. The High Council caught his essence out of the last picoseconds of his life, Loomed him a new body, and put him to the use they had always intended for the Deca. He was a weapon.
The drums. The ever-present drums.
He was a weapon of sheer terror. He burned worlds, murdered planetary civilizations, turned ally against ally in an orgy of blood and slaughter. He crafted the Skaro Degredations, suggested the regen-inf soldiers to the Rani, and embraced the terror of the Could've-been King.
It wasn't enough. The Daleks, implacable, merciless, not knowning fear, finally shattered the transduction barrier and fell upon the Citadel. Still he fought. He fought as they raged their way through the Shining City. He fought as the Halls of Eileithyia burned. But when the Dalek Emperor seized the Cruciform, he could fight no longer.
Gallifrey had fallen. The only hope now was flight.
And he ran. He ran farther and harder than he ever had before. And when he could run no further, when his TARDIS sat on the shores of the Silver Desolation, he hid within the Chameleon Arch. And Professor Yana was born.
The Professor was everything the Master was not, and - quite possibly - everything he had ever secretly wanted to be. A hero. A champion. A noble figure, struggling against the ever-encroaching darkness of the Final Night. Moses, leading the last struggling remnants of humanity to the great final fortress: Utopia. Without Professor Yana, they would have given up. Without him, they would have passed quietly into the Long Dark, forever.
And then the Doctor found him again. And he remembered his fob watch. And the Master, the mad monster of the Last Great Time War, was reborn. The drums thundered and roared.
The reborn Master, drawing on the resources of the Doctor's TARDIS, forged the dying, hopeless remnants of humanity in Utopia into the murderous Toclafane. He made himself Prime Minister of England on a whim, then unleashed his creations on the Earth. The planet ravaged and conquered, he prepared to transform it into an arsenal to conquer first the Sontarans and the Rutan Host, and then the galaxy, and then the universe itself.
He failed. He saw his work unmade. He died, again.
And this is where the history of the Master becomes truly tangled.
Weeks later, two humans fought for a ring. A container. A repository for a "backup" of the consciousness of the Master. One human won, and his prize was death. Death, and the dubious honor of becoming the new host body of the yet again reborn Master. Operating under the name of "Kos Mwinyi", he drew upon caches of resources he'd put away as Harold Saxon, and on his own vast intelligence, to become a prominant figure in the criminal underworld of the United Kingdom. He dealt in performance enhancing drugs, in data, in off-world weapons, consolidating his position.
Meanwhile, disciples of Harold Saxon used an ancient Gallifreyan alchemical technique to twist a biodata sample and bring another iteration of the Master into being. This Master fell into the hands of the British government, used the Immortality Gate to transform the entire human population of Earth into "the Master race", and nearly brought Gallifrey out of the Singularity containing the Time War.
The transformative wave of the Immortality Gate physically transformed "Kos Mwinyi" along with the rest of humanity. His mind, already the Master, was untouched. He laughed, he concentrated, he saw Gallifrey loom in the skies above Earth.
And then the wave was cancelled, and the rest of the human race returned to normal. And "Kos Mwinyi" began to transform as well. But Time Lords have some level of control over the transformation and regeneration of their bodies. He fought and, when the transformation ended, he had returned to the appearance of his host body. But that body was transformed into a Gallifreyan. It was no older than it had been originally, but it was a Time Lord's body.
The drums, the infernal drums, had gone silent. For the first time in centuries, he could think clearly. For the first time since his Initiation, he look at the world without his own private rhythm thundering in his mind, driving him to walk a road of blood and conquest.
He lacks conscience. He lacks remorse. He acts for his own best interests at all times. But he also lacks motivation. The drums are gone, Gallifrey is gone, and without them he lacks... motivation. For the first time in centuries, he struggles to find a purpose.
But this Master is not the only Master.
For a short time, the Master was the entire human race. And he is an expert at psychic control, and he knows the arts of transferring his consciousness from one body to another. And, for a short time, he had more than six billion bodies.
Buried deep in the collective unconsciousness of the human race, fragmented, the consciousness of the Master sleeps. Sleeps, and awaits the day when random chance will bring together enough of the fragments of his mind and will to awaken him once more.
And in the 41st milennia of human history, in the body of a cyborg that tore an arm of the galaxy apart in a war of rebellion against the God-Emperor of the Third Great and Benevolent Human Empire, the Master has awakened. And the drums thunder in his mind, and hate burns in his coal-black heart.
Tremble, peoples of the universe, for the Master is come again.
Medical Conditions: The Master is a psychopath. Although he can pretend - and did so for more than a century on Gallifrey - he has no conscience. No feelings of guilt or remorse, no concern for the feelings or well-being of others. The universe is divided simply into allies and victims. He looks out for his allies as long as they are useful.
He does have his moments, where he performs genuinely selfless deeds. These confuse him.