lolijesus | 110 flames

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110 flames | voice

All these people, I have to--

How many people in the pumpkin patch can hear me? If you can respond and need help, I'll try to find you as fast as I can.

Is everyone that got out all right? If you got out but need help getting to the hospital, I'll find you.

[ooc; you're welcome to say she helped you out wherever. All responses are assumed voice]

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Testing..?
Oh no.
NO.

There was pain, intense pain, and rather uselessly, the Master's mind went automatically through pretty much every swearword in every language he knew. He was on some really obscure Ancient Gallifreyan ones by the time he pulled himself together. He had no time.

Face contorted with pain and shock, he could vaguely sense himself falling backwards into the mirrors, which sliced into his back. No time to pay any attention to that either. To give himself a little bit more, he briefly stopped his one remaining heart. At least it wasn't going to pump out all of his blood uselessly into the new, gaping hole in his body.

Then again, now his heart was stopped. He really wished that he'd paid a little more attention in his Biology classes at the Academy. Maybe he would know how to make this hurt less if he had. The Master appeared to stare blankly ahead as in actuality, he was essentially looking inward at this new problem. Right. Look at it like a problem, a problematic machine, and then fix it.

Focused entirely on trying to pull veins to fit into each other, hotwiring his cardiovascular system into some sort of wretched parody of that of a human's, he was unable to prevent himself from wincing or from making various pained noises. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing outwardly, or he would have been disgusted at himself.

At the end of his quick-patch job (which had taken about half a minute to complete), he realised, panting, that the mirror-wall was embedded in him and he didn't have the energy to pull himself off of it. Besides that, he wasn't certain how long the fix would last...in perhaps a vain hope, he hadn't solidified any of the sutures so that he'd be able to pull them apart if he got his heart back. This measure had, unfortunately, left his veins delicate, and prone to potential splitting under enough stress. It was unfortunate that he was too weak to even snatch his heart back and besides that, he didn't have any way to get it back in.

He settled instead for the useless tactic of glaring at the man. Ineffectual, yes, but at least a little bit satisfying.

All the talk of superior biology and so on fell on ignorant ears. Tyki had taken anatomy lessons in practicalities – he knew what made people spit blood, what would fill their lungs with fluid and drown them in minutes. And really, all in all, this was nowhere as bad as it could have been – no screaming, and hardly any blood. Just what was leaking out of the heart and seeping into the fabric of the glove – and that really was a nuisance; his mouth twitched down and Tyki rejected the blood with a slight flick, a red spatter across the glass-gritty ground. The glare didn't trouble him - it was interesting. He was conscious enough, despite having his heart removed. The other heart was a decent replacement after all.

“So you survived it. That does put you a little above humans.” Of course, his tone curved into irony at the words: surviving would only make it more painful. He would have been luckier if he’d died – but he was dying now, wasn’t he?

Leisurely, Tyki glanced across the walls again. The space was narrower than it had been when he’d first come in; this or the heart injury would take care of him quickly enough. “Ah, well. I have a visit to make,” he went on, casually. “I’ll see you when you come back, then.” The heart he weighed in a sticky, gloved hand before letting his arm fall to his side.

With his free hand, he touched his hat brim, careful not to let the bloody parts stain it. “Don’t hold on too long,” Tyki added, as a sort of farewell. His mouth crooked. “I can’t imagine that being impaled on all sides will be very pleasant..”

Then he was walking away, slipping through the wall and gone with a soft laugh.

Hikaru had been walking everywhere, getting lost and finding her way again repeatedly, helping people along the way. She couldn't not help them, but she'd told someone on the network that she would find him. He was stuck in a trap, of all things-- She knew them too well and her chances of finding him at all were slim, but she had to try.

So further into the patch she delved with her eyes straining into the darkness. Nothing a little fire in her hand couldn't solve, really. But with the way this curse seemed, she was apprehensive of doing anything that could inadvertently cause harm. She'd gotten to a place where she couldn't see nor hear anyone.

"Hello?"

Pausing outside the house, Tyki lit a cigarette. The heart vanished into the usual space where he kept his glasses in White form, and he took advantage of this to strip off his gloves and dig out a cigarette. Casually, he starte to walk. That had been an interesting trip – worth it after all.

He’d left no lights for himself, either – but the one nice thing about choosing (well, one of many nice things) was that it didn’t leave much room to stumble. The voice, however, caught his attention, and he advanced automatically, keeping slow in case someone should walk into him. It had sounded rather familiar… and as Tyki closed in, he realized why. So the stranger’s message had reached someone on the Network, and, of course, she’d come to save him.

“Looking for someone?” he called, and struck a match.

The voice caught her attention and she instantly looked around for it. Oh, it was... that person from a few nights ago. She still hadn't completely connected the dots yet; she got to her feet and looked up to him.

"There was someone that asked for help out here. I tried to follow his directions but I haven't found anything. You haven't seen anyone in trouble, have you?" The expression she wore was not quite desperate but not calm either.

The Master watched, helpless, as the man left the way he had entered, only with the addition of one Time Lord heart. He couldn't help but wonder what the man intended to do with it...probably take it apart. Or maybe keep it as some sort of trophy.

Worse, now that there was nobody blocking his line of view, the Master looked straight into the opposite wall of mirrors again. It hit him instantly with an amalgam of voices, sounds, images, people and events he'd tried to leave behind him. This, added to the blood-loss, was finally too much, and his legs collapsed underneath him, dragging his back in a bloody line down the wall, shredding it.
He screamed, then, not caring any more.

Also, it fucking hurt.

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110 flames | voice

action; Long post is long.

action; late post is late!

action; SORRY I'M LATE GUYS, THIS PUMPKIN PATCH IS HUGE

action;

action;

action; Ah, but it exists, and that's what really matters. Whoa, flip, he needs a Hikaru. XD