Oct 29, 2013
Hot damn.
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#project hail mary- #the amazing digital circus
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Hot damn.
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Evil plots and dresses.
Rumors were being made. Hash whispers of Xanders new son and their incestuous relationship. Some whispers had it that the young lord Torvic was nothing but a high placed whore and their master will grow bored of him. Others say that it was Torvic who has his claws into their master's heart, and yet others viciously try to put an end to these words. Makeing sure it never reached their new lords ears and trying to kill off the rumors with in their own socail standing before something terrable happens.
Lucky for all Torvic was blissfully unaware. He was waiting in their suite for Xander to finish with his work. A spicy platter of food in front of him as he works tirelessly on the table tablet. Out lines and Schismatics of invasion plans and the heroes of the Sontarans of that time. There was also texts or tortures and war records of names of those who were stationed to the Boeshane Peninsula. There was also many images of dresses. Handsome dresses but boring.
immortalxander said: Is that truly so? Shall I show you the full extent of my power, Koschei?
Somehow, I don't think I'd complain too much...
Diamond
Send me ♦ and my muse will reveal what they find sexually attractive about your muse.
Your power. Your state of being demands respect and I like that.
Homework.
"Ah but my patron isn’t that easy. He wants me to take over Trvoli.. Now don’t laugh you.” His teasing brushes becoming a kick. ” I have to conquer it under the … 4th Saltarin occupation and I have to do it with fear.”
"I would never laugh at you, Lord Torvic. It is not my place. I am merely your Guardian and Father," he cooed without a trace of disrespect, still licking and sucking on Torvic’s toes. "But fear is easy enough. First of all, you have to know what they fear. After you know what they fear, it is simple enough. A show of force and power. Like, for example, a handsome young man, who commands a servant to tear apart of the soul of the most powerful warrior on the planet in front of his troops. And then who commands that servant to his knees. How powerful then, is the Lord who commands such a servant?"
The kick had been playful as well. "Oh I powerful indeed, but beloved father the Saltarin don't fear death. Those walking turds fear dishonor and defeat." He sighs wiggling his toes. <I like it when you suck my toes father. it feels good.>
"I have to defeat and dishonor them. They also find women inferior. How would you think they handle being defeated by a female?" He arches an eye brow and falls back on to he elbows. The little imp uses his other foot to rub the hard budge that seem to twitch and grow after every utterance of 'father'
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His first priority had, of course, been surviving those first few days after escape. His TARDIS had looked after him, far more than the Master thought to give her credit for, shielding him from the universe as long as she could. There was only so much healing he could manage, as malnourished as he was, and while the Master was no longer bleeding to death, the Time Lord was still in pretty shabby condition when he woke. To top it off, he was starving and there was nothing in the TARDIS to assuage that. After all, when the Time Lords had left him in the med bay to bleed to death again and again, it had been a game, not an escape route.
It was the fear of starvation that goaded him into finally landing. He stepped out of an alley into a crowded market place, lifting his head high and hiding his cuts and bruises beneath a suit that well shrouded his gaunt, bony frame. He wasn't about to be cowed by a bunch of humans. He'd just get his supplies and be on his way.
