Feeding Time on Planet Eyre (open)

[The Master]

It was bright here, too bright. It was blue here, too blue. The harshness of the colors around him burned his eyes and he tried to blink the hurt away. So hungry. He stumbled over something that lay on the ground before him, is was small an brownish and smell of dead fish and stale water, his eye were unable to focus on what it actualy was so he setled for kicking his as hard as he could out of his path. A voice began to raise a protest but he turned his scruffy blonde head toward it and growled, his head flashing between flesh and blood and white, nearly glowing skull. The voice was instainly quited. The Master suffled on. So hungry. He hated this plaent. He had to find a way to get off of it, but first he needed food. So hungry.

He sniffed at the air. Nothing. He half stumbled forward, further down the road that blured in smears of blue before him. He sniffed the air again, harder, trying to pull what he wanted, what he needed from teh skies. He paused, there was something. Hints of spices and... MEAT! His feet began to rise and fall against the ground muchfaster that what they had just moments before when he was doing nothing but search. But now they had a purpose. So hungry. They needed to take him to meat. Glorious meat. He was running now, his nose leading him on a haphazard course across the blurred blue streets, knocking people and things out of his way and paying no heed to the protesting voices raising in his wake.

He skidded to a halt before a short, wide building that seemed to be made of yellowish brick all along the outside wall which was open at the top half like a long glassless window, was a black counter where the customers of the resturant sat eating or waiting for their foods. Heaps, mounds and platters of glorieous food, glorious, glorieous meat, sat before most of the large number of resturant goers. The Master felt his mouth water and the back of his tonuge tingled and twinged with the tang of hungry pains.

"SO HUNGRY!" he growled low and dangerous.

Bending at his knees and flating his hands againt the ground for a moment he leaped into the air, using a small bust of the white lighting like stream of life engery from his hadns as a booster, sailing over the customers and landing with the grace of an Earth cat in a squating position on all fours near the middle of the counter.

"SO HUNGRY!" he repeated, eyes wild with unrestrained hunger.

He reached out a hand and grabbed hold of the large cooked leg of some alien animal or the other and sank in his teeth into the flesh. It was like bliss hitting is tounge and he mewed half contentedly as he continued to rend the meat of the bone in an unnaturally fast way.

[The Inventor]

The inventor sat at his desk, fiddling away... as he always did, with strange, unique machines. Nothing caught his attention like inventing, technology; creating... it was like an art to him. The feeling that arose when he found the solution to something that had been nagging away at him for days, or weeks - Or even years. It was magic, it was for that moment, that he invented in the first place. That and just slowly watching it all unravel before him. Seeing how everything is supposed to be could be... would be.
But right now... the Inventor was getting nowhere. He all but growled as he stared at the stubborn machine before him. It was suppose to levitate by consuming light and energy in the air and transmitting a frequency most cultures had not even discovered yet, setting it all to one spot to push against currents and rise. For obvious reasons of mechanics it would only be able to levitate, and not properly fly. That would involve separate controls to manoeuvre the energy and manipulate it in a different way. He was having trouble with the basic energy manipulator for levitating, however. It was taking in particles that there disagreeing with his system. He turned his machine on, which was in the shape of a disk with blades on the outer edges, when he turned it on vie remote the thing made a horrible clanging noise, seemed to buzz where it was for a moment, before rocketing upwards and planting itself in the roof of his space station.
The Inventor sighed, shaking his head almost sadly as he jumped on his desk and stretched upwards, plucking the machine from the dent it left in the wall by twisting it out the way it had come. No, he did not have the right filter, which is what the problem was. He turned to his wrist-watch, forever around his right hand, fiddling with it for a moment, the machine he was working on... which he decided to call the Twister in his hand, he vanished at the push of a button.

He appeared instead on a planet half a galaxy away, in the middle of a busy crowd that hardly seemed to notice him. He pushed his way through, darting glances to all the stalls he passed, his machine securely under his arm, as he watched over it like a hawk. If anyone dared touch his thingy-ma-whatsit – Twister, they would be in trouble.
He was sure he would find what he was looking for here... when he was monitoring there progress in stages, as he did quite a few planets, he had found that this one should be at a stage to discovering what he wanted. It was either that or spent the next few years trying to perfect the filter himself. He was going to try his luck buying it first. He continued to pass through the stalls until he came to a less crowded area. There seemed to be some sort of commotion down here to draw his attention. He burst into a light jog, or a half-run, depending on how you looked at it as he paced a few half-empty food places to see some strange man tearing at a hunk of meat. Some sort of... priticriticlumionious meat by the looks of things. Plenty of energy in them, but high in saturated fat as well. He watched in silence for a moment as the man seemed to glow in a strange light, showing his skull.
“You seem to have some sort of... high-energy displacement, maybe. You’re using your life energy in your movements. Never have I seen anything like it!”
He cried in obvious delight, hugging his Twister to his side, and yet almost completely forgetting about it now.

[The Master]

The Master had finished off several plates of the food, mostly meat, that sat before him at his feet on the counter he was squating on when he heard a voice actually daring to speak to him. His head snapped up to view the mouth and then the face the voice had come from. His head cocked to the side and he drew in a deep breath through his nose, pulling in the new scent with it. He dropped the bone that he'd been holding in his hand and his finger tips on both hands fell to meet with the counter top. The began to tap out a familar rythme there. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap. The four quick beats repeated over and over and over for close to a full minute as he stared the man in the eyes and then he stopped suddenly and rose to his full height on the coutner top.

"No more drumming, but I can still smell you Doctor," he jumped down from the counter, his dirty, greasy hands wrapping around the man's shirt and drawing him in close. "Fix me."

His nose twitched and his eyes narrowed and then he leaned in and sniffed the man he was holding from neck to hair, ending in a low growl.

"You're not him. Not the Doctor," he announced as he shoved the man away from him. "Not the right Time Lord, but that makes no sense. How are you here, how do you exsist. The drumming is gone. They are gone. You're all gone."

The Master was aggitated now, pacing in a tight circle and clenching and unclenching his fists at his side. He was trying to rein in his mind, pull it together. That was something that was getting harder and hard the longer he stayed the way he was.

[The Inventor]

The Inventor watched in a state of curiosity as the creature – a time lord that had gone through some unspeakable change... turned his gaze to him. That familiar gaze of curiosity, on the verge of understanding, took over the Inventors features as watched... and watched. The man walked towards him, pulling him closer and scenting him. It seemed there were plenty of new abilities that came with this change. And what an amazing change it was! He had to know more, a freak accident? What had manipulated the DNA strands in such a way?
The man was speaking of drumming now, and a doctor... and then he said... ‘Fix me’
The Inventors eyes lit up with the idea of a challenge, even as the man pulled away, called him the wrong one, confused on how he got there. Ahh... yes, he knew at the back of his mind, a thought he wished to never entertain, such a thought knew that there had been a Time War. So wrapped in his studies... if only he had invented for them... if only he had helped...
“I drew apart from the main group, good fellow. I found a new home to chase my dreams undisturbed.”
He wasn’t smiling now, as his eyes went up and down, up and down, over the man in front of him. Fixing him... or at least doing something to help, well, it would require the creature/Mutated Time Lord to remain still, and somehow the Inventor was sure that that would be a challenge in itself.
“Fixing you... that would require some sort of stabilizer, something to even out the energy and refrain it from dispersing in such a manner, where you consume more energy then what is required, become full of it, bounce about on it, and end up using so much of your own life-energy you become consumed by the need to eat, get energy from simple foods and survive. I would give you an energy source... but I believe that might increase the energy consumption, rather then level it. An increase would put too much of a drain on your systems, your very DNA would unravel, fall apart... it would kill you. This is all speculation of course...”
He mused, putting a hand up to his chin as he thought over all the different possibilities. As he did so, however, his machine fell to the ground at his feet. He blinked, staring at it in surprise, for he had all but forgotten about the filter for his Twister

Leaning over, he gently gave the thing a pat on its cold metallic side before shaking his head.
“Another time, another time...”
He murmured to his previous creation, and with a quick play-around on his wrist-watch, the thing vanished from were it lay, presumably back in his space station.
“Now then... what’s your name, good fellow? And if you want my help, you better come back with me so I can do some scans, after all, it does no good to simply speculate”
He chuckled softly, tilting his head in a curious gesture to see what the other would say. [/color]