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darkpath_masterThere is a subtle sound that very few people might hear - a quiet sort of vworp vworp sound. Up against the side of a building, a stacked woodpile becomes somewhat bigger and taller, though only those who can sense the temporal will notice even that. It may be somewhat easier, however, to note part of the wood moving, a swinging door slowly opening. A man emerges, the door shutting behind him.
There is darkness there, from the black suit to the dark, neatly-trimmed beard, and the dark and immaculately ordered hair. The black nehru jacket is also immaculate and perfectly tailored. The way he wears it and the way he moves denotes a certain air. Not of pretension, but confidence - and a meticulous nature.
He looks around, a black gloved hand tapping against his side for a moment before a slow smile works across his face.
"Well, well," the Master says, entirely to himself. "A temporal nexus, and so established..." Oh, he can do great things. Great, and terrible, things. A place of potential power.
The only question becomes: what sort of reception will he find?
There is darkness there, from the black suit to the dark, neatly-trimmed beard, and the dark and immaculately ordered hair. The black nehru jacket is also immaculate and perfectly tailored. The way he wears it and the way he moves denotes a certain air. Not of pretension, but confidence - and a meticulous nature.
He looks around, a black gloved hand tapping against his side for a moment before a slow smile works across his face.
"Well, well," the Master says, entirely to himself. "A temporal nexus, and so established..." Oh, he can do great things. Great, and terrible, things. A place of potential power.
The only question becomes: what sort of reception will he find?
