Sorry, I couldn't wait.
The Mistress, aka Missy
Species: Time Lord.
Age: 3042.
Gender: Female.
Occupation: Psychopath.
Status: Lying in wait.
::Appearance::
Hair: Dark brown, usually in an up-do.
Eyes: Pale blue.
Height: 5'4".
Figure: It's hard to tell under the dress, but she's fit for her apparent age.
Other: Cheekbones that could cut glass.
Clothing: She's taken 'elegant Victorian lady' and thrown in some goth and steampunk jewellery. The elegant, tailored jacket-and-skirt combos she prefers vary from black to quite bright purple, depending entirely on her mood. Beware the brighter colours, they are a sign of a 'good mood'... and I speak as a woman who does this: she can sprint in those heels.
::Info::
Family: She doesn't particularly care... but it looks like she has a sister.
Personality: Melodramatic is probably the best word for her. She finds it quite difficult to do anything (at least in public) without making a show of it. She takes a bit after her last life, but has apparently turned it up to eleven (metaphorically). Beneath this exuberant exterior, her keen mind is always plotting and scheming, she's never not up to something... though what she's up to is rarely apparent until it's too late. She loves a good game, even if her opponents and pawns don't find it quite so fun. This particular incarnation is particularly fond of manners (in others; do as I say, not as I do, dearies), and a habit of demanding her victims "Say something nice" before she kills them.
Strengths: Completely amoral, she will not hesitate to kill or torture - contrary to popular moralistic opinion this total lack of compassion does give her an excellent strategic advantage over those who let their enemies live to come back and retaliate later. The Master always was good at Xanatos Speed Chess and Missy is no exception, she can manipulate almost any situation to her advantage, and is rarely ever unprepared. Paranoid as she is, she always has at least one 'backup plan' in case of mortal injury. As she likes to say; "Death is for other people".
Weakness: There are only three things in this universe that she cares about. Herself, achieving power... and the Doctor. This is her greatest weakness; her oldest friend and enemy is the one person she will not kill (forcing a regeneration doesn't count, she'd still totally do that if she thought it was a good idea). On the other hand, she's prone to random, often violent outbursts for little reason other than 'fun', or she 'felt like it' - these are rarely part of the plan, and as such tend to hinder said plan.
She also hasn't read www . eviloverlord . com ... this would actually solve a lot of her problems.
Likes: Power. The Doctor (and his emotional suffering when he's trying to be all goody-two-shoes about something). Lesser beings grovelling before her (although that gets old fast, then she's likely to kill them). This incarnation in particular likes shocking and/or horrifying others, as well - it's the looks on their faces, like they don't understand it.
Dislikes: Trivial things. Boring things. Repetitive things. Drum solos.
Dream: People always think it's universal domination. Just because she likes dominating people and things, and just because she actually does want to rule the universe, doesn't mean that's all she wants out of life. Yes, it's probably near the top of her list, but she does want a lot of other things, too. It's just not so easy to explain them all to you mere mortals. You don't even get why she wants the Doctor around, how could you follow the rest of her ambitions?
::History::
At age eight, the Master looked into the Untempered Schism, the standard initiation ritual for all prospective Time Lords, and they say what he saw there drove him mad. Later theories suggest it was the drum-beat, rather than any visual stimuli, but that was just the demented icing on the insanity cake. You can't literally see into all that is, was and ever could be, without going at least a little mad, no matter what they all say... but what he saw, well... the drums were an irrelevant irritant by comparison.
Of course, as time went by, and the background noise in his mind from the low-level telepathic connection between all of his race was extinguished by the war, the drums grew louder and began to do as they were designed to. They were far from the driving force of his lust for power, nor of his madness, but they amplified his rage and drove him to distraction on top of it all.
When he eventually discovered the source of the drums was Rassilon, he was understandably upset. The telepathic violation required to implant such a thought as the drums, so deep in the subconscious, it was absolutely unspeakable. Even the Master had never been quite that specific sort of manipulative.
Only she knows how she managed to get out of the Time War, having been locked in it by his own hubris and the Doctor's bad timing. She certainly wasn't telling anyone. She also wasn't explaining the circumstances of her regeneration. What is known is that her new incarnation spent years building a Cyber army, supposedly as a gift for the Doctor. Then he tried to kill her, but she was teleported away at the last second.
HOW DID YOU FIND US?: Googling Doctor Who roleplay.
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Roleplay Sample:
The Doctor is stuck under a flickering streetlamp, you are on the opposite side of the street. It's midnight, no moon or stars, the only lights around are the lamp the Doctor is under, and the light in front of a closed store you stand under.
The only way to the Doctor is to cross the dark street, easy, right? Wrong. This planet is well-known for being infested with Vashta Nerada. Any shadow anywhere could be infested with them. You have a small pack on your back with several items in it that you could use to get to him.
A carrot
The Doctor's Sonic screwdriver
A chicken leg
A flashlight
Book of matches
A rubber duck
a raincoat
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The problem with teleporters is you never can be entirely sure they'll send you where you want to go. Such was the case now, as Missy landed rather hard on her side, on the ground outside of an innocuous shopfront. Worse still, but that hadn't even been one of her teleporters, so now she was stuck here, wherever here was, until she could find decent transport. To add injury to insult, aside from the discomfort of hitting her elbow and hip on solid concrete, she also noticed something digging into her back, and turned around to find a perfectly harmless looking backpack had been lying on the ground, right behind where she had landed.
The more harmless it looks...
She opened it, and she found therein seven items. Even without the sonic screwdriver among them, they looked like things the Doctor would pick up... except the chicken leg, she could have sworn he was vegetarian in this latest life? Or had she imagined that? She kind of hoped it had been her previous life's fault, and all.
Still, she wasn't entirely sure what was the point of such a collection, which also included a flashlight, a book of matches, a rubber duck, a raincoat, and a carrot. A carrot? She thought his fixation was bananas? Then again, that had been two lives ago. For all she knew he liked pears now.
Another strange point was the fact this was not her Doctor's sonic. It was in fact the blue one she remembered from their time together on the Valiant.
Where was the idiot, anyway?
She picked herself up and looked around. The street she had landed in was pitch black, except for the light from a shop behind her and one dim lamp on the far side of the road, which illuminated an unconscious Doctor. Not hers. This sonic's. Fluffy hair, goofy suit, converse sneakers and all. He was even wearing his 'brainy specs'... hadn't she broken those? Apparently not yet.
Something didn't feel quite right. Like she was being watched. The more she looked around at the darkness the more she realised how wrong it was. A Time Lord's senses were superior to humans, she ought to be picking up light from other, more distant sources in this clearly urban neighbourhood, and even the thickest cloud cover wouldn't stop the faint UV light bouncing off moon seeping through. It was half of how Time Lords saw in the dark, after all.
No, there was something else here.
She took out the sonic and scanned. What she discovered were millions of tiny lifeforms in the shadows. Now, there weren't many species like that. Sure, there were a lot of tiny life-forms, but none quite so light-inhibiting nor so light-averse as these seemed to be, avoiding the streetlamps as they were. Only one species fit that bill.
"Vashta Nerada." she chuckled, "Oh deary me, Doctor, what have you gotten yourself into this time?"
She re-checked her surroundings, but upon finding nothing else of value, she sighed somewhat dramatically. She had no means of transport to get herself out of this place, it was currently six hours and thirty-eight minutes until sunrise... and that light over the shop behind her was beginning to flicker.
"Oh, that's naughty." she said, folding her arms and flouncing into a sitting position next to the backpack. She pulled out the flashlight and began to tinker with it. It took her about two minutes to disassemble and rewire it, using the sonic to amp up the power. The bulb, no longer constrained by its casing, would now light up in all directions, instead of only one. The power increase was enough to cause a human to start to tan. For the Vashta Nerada, that was going to really burn.
Before activating it, however, she pulled out the chicken leg and ate it herself, slowly savouring it far more than its taste really merited. These stupid little bugs were sentient in a hive-mind, and she was taunting them.
The flickering of the light overhead increased, and she laughed, "Oh, you hungry?" She threw them the carrot. They did not appear to appreciate that, and she laughed again, "Ingrates!"
She was still laughing as she stood again, and activated the overpowered lamp she had built.
The entire breadth of the street was lit up in glorious detail, and while even her ears weren't tuned finely enough to hear it, she liked to imagine screams of agony from the Vashta Nerada as the shadows they inhabited were obliterated.
Smiling cheerfully, she strode over to the Doctor and knelt down.
She prodded one pinstripe-covered shoulder, ensuring that yes he was still completely unconscious. She then patted him down for useful things, and discovered a Vortex Manipulator on his left wrist. It looked like Harkness's, and she briefly wondered why the Doctor had it. Had the Vashta Nerada eaten the freak? How much currency and who did she have to kill for a front row seat to that resurrection?
Unfortunately, time was a factor. That lamp would not last long running that hot on that small a battery. Right now this Vortex Manipulator was exactly what she needed. She placed it on her own wrist, quickly returned to the backpack (the Doctor must have had it for a reason), and collected that, before once more kneeling by his side and teleporting them both away.
When the Doctor awoke, he found himself alone in a bright and sunny field of brilliant green grass, in the middle of nowhere, rural England, with his backpack, his sonic... and the suspicious absence of a rubber duck.
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Sat Jun 12, 2021 1:03 am by 
Subject: The Mistress 
