the devil you know.

@msetra said: “ Who are you? ” for Kira ↳ questions only sentence starters

Since leaving Gallifrey and traveling the stars, it had become her mission to try and find her parent in between her adventures. Following trails from different planets the Master had been to (and laid ruin to), her journey had finally brought her to Earth where she blended in as a school girl and happened upon UNIT. Kira was trying to sneak inside and obtain what files they had of the Master, only to find herself suddenly being stopped by someone.

Quick...think of some kind of excuse. "I'm Kira Oakdown. I went to the bathroom, but it appears I got lost and don't know where the rest of my tour went." After all, the Tower of London tended to get a frequent amount of tourists. It would pass, right?! "Haven't happened to see them around, have you?"

Could she tell them who's daughter she was, or would they just lock her up in a cell instead?

margaret peers down through her pair of spectacles, ever the hall monitor, even when she's under the pretense of an intern working for the personnel division. her eyes leer at the intruder with a sharp sense of annoyance, not because this girl is any kind of security risk—whatever her designs for sneaking in to UNIT's side of the tower—but because she'll have to waste precious time reporting this incident to security staff, lose the precisely calculated window of time in which she could sneak poison in the mess hall's supply of tea. nothing lethal, of course, just the right amount in the right brand so that a certain gaggle of pencil pushers call in sick for the next few days.

it seems her peace of mind is still beyond reach.

“ mm-hmm, ” it's all very drawl, as if one could get lost past locked doors & plenty of standing guards who keep tourists out of UNIT's offices. not to mention, “ there are no tours today. they work on our schedule, you see, so that we can minimize suspicioun with civilians around. ” margaret flares her nostrils, sniffing out the lie with ease. it's hardly worth the effort for mild dramatics. “ but nice try, i suppose, even if it's the only excuse within your panicking reach. ” she pauses, taking one step closer.

“ if you tell me why you're here, i promise to ask security to go easy on you. ” not that escorting intruders takes a great deal of harshness, not when they comply. “ you don't have to make this harder for yourself than in needs to be miss ... oakdown? that's the name of a holiday park near sidmouth, is it not? ” her eyes look upwards, searching her memory for an answer to her own question.

“ actually, ” she considers for a moment, this might be a card shown too early, but the small change in facial expression is the right kind of buzz—especially from some other version self. the master knows how difficult she should be to rattle & thus she perks up, uncharacteristically eager to divulge the exact point where their personal lives diverge, “ i do not, i've never had a father, ” a dramatic enough phrase, but the master continues beyond its confines, “ nor anything remotely similar. such a familial structure is a blight upon the reproductive cycles of the lesser species. ”

“ oh, darling, who knows you better than yourself? ” the tip of a blade pressed gently, but dishonestly, she has no idea where to cut. it is true that the master is intimately familiar with the inner workings of her own mind, she finds herself on the very edge of sanity, able to rationalize & justify every action no matter how monstrous as a necessity in her schemes. her counterpart is rather a ways off, purposefully positioning himself against the doctor, the self appointed hero of the cosmos. the very idea makes her wince, the master never imagines herself as the villain.

“ i doubt mere words would make you reconsider. grandiose speeches are the tools of our rival, & we hardly need a soap box to get our point across. ” words are hardly necessary when you can possess another with the sheer strength of your will. “ but to live your life according to the doctor, even as his direct opposite, ” lip smack,

“ well, daddy is the one thing i can't be. ” unstoppable slithering creature, meet a seasoned traveler, the apex predator of all that wriggles & bites in the universe. she adds a teasing lilt purely for the sake of emphasis, of course, because sam isn't the only person in this office who knows how to cast a lure, but they're more likely to get their mouth stuck on a fishing hook. “ & if you plan on using company software, you will running back to him, without a two weeks notice. ”

margaret leans back into her chair & away from the intruder, arms crossed in the universal sign of self-satisfaction. it's not as if she's expertly parried their insistence such that they'd walk off with their hands in their pockets, but she's looking for weak spots, & family is the easiest pressure point. “ he must be used to that. ” notice how the insults keep coming, they flow so naturally out of her it's almost a relief. margaret has tired of playing nice with all many her wonderful colleagues, how nice of sam to walk up & offer to be a punching bag.

margaret readjust her reading glasses, brows furrowed & mouth agape in the exact kind of exasperation one expects of a middle aged woman forced to babysit a younger coworker. “ but that's the problem, isn't it? you aren't trying your best. ” she says it like it's a revelation, like she saw through this scheme like she's the lead of a detective noir. but sam doesn't try to hide their disinterest, the fact they've coasted through worse flashing that smile at every impasse, & margaret doesn't budge.

“ you're a nepotism hire, ” again, no great surprise, but she phrases it like she's spotted something they're trying desperately to hide. “ why not ask your father ... or your mother? or whatever relative's gotten you the job. i'm sure they have spare change. ” her hands dance into the ether. the answer she couldn't care less about.

“ no, i believe he was right. ” not that she really understands, a version of her civilization that reverted to traditional modes of reproduction is as alien to the master as any of the lesser species. to trade in the structure & certainty of rationalized families in favor of the genetic lottery of childbirth, it only serves to weaken their stock, to waste precious time on raising an infant from its first cries until it is fit to join the academy. it's no wonder they lost their war. “ you've reigned fire wherever you thread & for what? ” she supposes one could approximate the relationship between parent & child to the one between cousin & house, or cousin & kithriarch, but then the master was always the favored daughter. in a family as large as stillhaven to stand out, to dare defy—deny the aid of your relatives & forge your own path in the dog eats dog world of the capitol, that was seen as strength.

the master hasn't ever wondered if they've changed their perspective, not until now.

The picture of an idiot. From the askew tie to the sheepish grin. He shut the doors of his TARDIS with well-practised ease, making a show to spin around and very nearly bump into @msetra. Even the way the grin faded was comical. Perhaps he hadn't known, but he had suspected he would be about to come face to face with her.

she instinctively grabs hold of her chin just to check, because outside the precious moments one has to touch up themselves in the mirror, a time lord always forget the physical nature of their existence. smooth, as the master should expect, her devilishly handsome run of incarnations only came after her ascension ceremony. a purposeful addition to test out the limits of regeneration, completely antithetical to her original body. it feels foolish now, the weft threads with which new cousins of house stillhaven are weaved got it right the first time, & she can never claim a desire to return to a form more familiar to her & the doctor. “ well, one can't have everything. ” which is a more profound statement than either of them would admit, & given this doctor isn't one she recognizes, she won't yet hint at her recent shift in method.