Chapter Eight, Part Two: PierrotMature

“I am the Terrorist, Rassilon. You will bow before our House and release Lady Flamina,  whom you hold in the cells, or we will destroy the Restoration from within!” 

Rassilon throws back his head and laughs; it was a throaty laugh, but chiming, almost cheerful. It is the chortle of the first Lord of Time,and it flowed like water through the hall, filling every ear. No one moved.. .but wait! Who was that, slinking behind the so-called Terrorist like a skinny streetling hoping for a full purse? 

Perhaps he would give the lurker time to slit their own throat, or amuse him by taking care of a pest problem. Whichever came first. 

“What Restoration? Have you seen the state of this place? They’re all idiots! I failed. I don’t care one lick about these puppies now. For that matter, as soon as I am done serving my time as Cardinal to the Master, I shall go back to sleep within my tomb. I have had enough of the waking world. Between the Doctor and the Master, I am spent.” 

“Coward!”  a shrivelled voice cries from behind the upstart dandy in green and silver. 

The Terrorist almost turns; but the old man behind him is quicker. 

“Pasmodius? But how? You’re just a stupid old…” 

The dagger blooms from the idiot dandy’s chest; soon the young man in green and silver sink to the floor. But as they crowd around him, his finger nudges something on his hand- a golden ring, then slumps in mid teleport and vanishes, to the fury of the guards.

The End

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