For St. Edelweiss- OOC
Lucy's History
Lucy is the youngest daughter of Lord Charles Cole of Tarminster, and the apple of her father's eye. Her elder sister is a vapid socialite in training, and her brother a thuggish ape who spends all his time out hunting or riding. Her mother married into the upper class, and as a result, has that vulgar way about her of someone trying to be much more posh and important than they really are. Lucy, however, was fortunate enough to receive both her father's looks and temperament. As a young girl, she was spoilt absolutely rotten, as only the children of the very rich can be.
Though she was a quiet child, and for all appearances, meek and well-behaved, her father quietly encouraged her to ignore her mother and siblings- 'They're not the important ones. Not a one of them can do half the things you'll do one day, my Lucy.' Lucy grew up believing that without question.
When she first left home to go to Roedean, at age 10, she latched onto her newfound independence fiercely, finding it much more to her liking than living under the constant eye of her mother. Initially, it irritated her that the other girls and the professors didn't seem to accept her shining view of herself, but she soon learned that it was easy enough to make them see it if she wanted them to. She was a good student, though not exceptional- studying was such a bore, after all. She was never a bully- on the contrary, she had friends, and was generally polite at the very least- but she was the sort of girl to smirk behind her hand when others were hurting.
Lucy had always detested silence- it was so silent in her head; it was horrid- and it was during her later years at Roedean where she discovered her first and favourite way to drown it out; clubbing. The music so loud you could hardly hear yourself think, all those masses of people smashed together in the half-dark- the physicality of it was fantastic, and she thrilled secretly at the naughtiness of it, so unexpected of a girl of her breeding. She lost her virginity at age seventeen in a loo in some club; it was fantastic.
From Roedean, she went on to St. Andrews, where she studied the suitably bland topic of Italian. She also played on the netball team. After graduating, she found it easy enough to get a job at a publishing firm- being the daughter of a lord had its uses, after all- and worked her way up until she had a position as a publisher there. Life went on, as it does, with Lucy working by day and frequenting clubs by night. Routine. Fairly boring, frankly.
Then she met Harold Saxon. And Harold Saxon... wasn't quite what he seemed. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something there. If it wasn't already clear in the niggling little inconsistencies in his autobiography (which she'd been assigned the task of editing), then it certainly was in the little eyebrow lift he gave her when she pointed them out. I know, he seemed to be saying, and isn't it all just a lark? It was like he was playing a game, and Lucy wanted to find out what it was.
It turned out that what Harold Saxon was, in fact, was a mass-murdering, megalomaniacal alien called the Master, bent on ruling the planet, and a fabulous dancer. And Lucy fell in love. He filled her head with the sound of his drums, drowning out the awful silence that normally resided there. The Master was the first one to press a whip into her hands and show her how to use it, to take those tiny little cracks in her psyche and allow them to spread. Ideas she'd had before- faint concepts of blood and death and power held in her hands- the Master let those become her reality. Mistress alongside the Master; quite as insane as he.
The Master took Lucy to the end of the universe and showed her the death of everything- the collapse of all creation- and that affected her profoundly. She's quite apathetic in regards to life because of that- not her own life, certainly, but everybody else's. Life has its uses, and very often that use is to die. Lucy danced with her husband as he decimated the human race below them. During the year he ruled the world, he burnt Japan as a birthday present for her.
As any proper evil overlord ought, the Master had a backup plan as to what to do if things went a bit pear-shaped. Lucy was to kill him, and then use his ring, which had been infused with his biodata, to bring him back to life. Ridiculously simple, really, given the Time Lord tech he's got access to. Things, as they're wont to, did go rather pear-shaped, and the Doctor saved the day, as per usual. So, in order to save him the humiliation of becoming the Doctor's pet, Lucy shot him. Everyone else had thought her a poor, abused pawn as it was, so nobody asked any questions.
She was just able to retrieve the Master’s ring before she was carted off to hospital, where a brief, distracted check was run on her. They insisted she stay overnight, and though she begrudged them it, she couldn’t really refuse, not if they were to remain convinced that she really was nothing more than a poor, broken doll.
When she woke up, she was at St. Edelweiss.
Lucy is the youngest daughter of Lord Charles Cole of Tarminster, and the apple of her father's eye. Her elder sister is a vapid socialite in training, and her brother a thuggish ape who spends all his time out hunting or riding. Her mother married into the upper class, and as a result, has that vulgar way about her of someone trying to be much more posh and important than they really are. Lucy, however, was fortunate enough to receive both her father's looks and temperament. As a young girl, she was spoilt absolutely rotten, as only the children of the very rich can be.
Though she was a quiet child, and for all appearances, meek and well-behaved, her father quietly encouraged her to ignore her mother and siblings- 'They're not the important ones. Not a one of them can do half the things you'll do one day, my Lucy.' Lucy grew up believing that without question.
When she first left home to go to Roedean, at age 10, she latched onto her newfound independence fiercely, finding it much more to her liking than living under the constant eye of her mother. Initially, it irritated her that the other girls and the professors didn't seem to accept her shining view of herself, but she soon learned that it was easy enough to make them see it if she wanted them to. She was a good student, though not exceptional- studying was such a bore, after all. She was never a bully- on the contrary, she had friends, and was generally polite at the very least- but she was the sort of girl to smirk behind her hand when others were hurting.
Lucy had always detested silence- it was so silent in her head; it was horrid- and it was during her later years at Roedean where she discovered her first and favourite way to drown it out; clubbing. The music so loud you could hardly hear yourself think, all those masses of people smashed together in the half-dark- the physicality of it was fantastic, and she thrilled secretly at the naughtiness of it, so unexpected of a girl of her breeding. She lost her virginity at age seventeen in a loo in some club; it was fantastic.
From Roedean, she went on to St. Andrews, where she studied the suitably bland topic of Italian. She also played on the netball team. After graduating, she found it easy enough to get a job at a publishing firm- being the daughter of a lord had its uses, after all- and worked her way up until she had a position as a publisher there. Life went on, as it does, with Lucy working by day and frequenting clubs by night. Routine. Fairly boring, frankly.
Then she met Harold Saxon. And Harold Saxon... wasn't quite what he seemed. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something there. If it wasn't already clear in the niggling little inconsistencies in his autobiography (which she'd been assigned the task of editing), then it certainly was in the little eyebrow lift he gave her when she pointed them out. I know, he seemed to be saying, and isn't it all just a lark? It was like he was playing a game, and Lucy wanted to find out what it was.
It turned out that what Harold Saxon was, in fact, was a mass-murdering, megalomaniacal alien called the Master, bent on ruling the planet, and a fabulous dancer. And Lucy fell in love. He filled her head with the sound of his drums, drowning out the awful silence that normally resided there. The Master was the first one to press a whip into her hands and show her how to use it, to take those tiny little cracks in her psyche and allow them to spread. Ideas she'd had before- faint concepts of blood and death and power held in her hands- the Master let those become her reality. Mistress alongside the Master; quite as insane as he.
The Master took Lucy to the end of the universe and showed her the death of everything- the collapse of all creation- and that affected her profoundly. She's quite apathetic in regards to life because of that- not her own life, certainly, but everybody else's. Life has its uses, and very often that use is to die. Lucy danced with her husband as he decimated the human race below them. During the year he ruled the world, he burnt Japan as a birthday present for her.
As any proper evil overlord ought, the Master had a backup plan as to what to do if things went a bit pear-shaped. Lucy was to kill him, and then use his ring, which had been infused with his biodata, to bring him back to life. Ridiculously simple, really, given the Time Lord tech he's got access to. Things, as they're wont to, did go rather pear-shaped, and the Doctor saved the day, as per usual. So, in order to save him the humiliation of becoming the Doctor's pet, Lucy shot him. Everyone else had thought her a poor, abused pawn as it was, so nobody asked any questions.
She was just able to retrieve the Master’s ring before she was carted off to hospital, where a brief, distracted check was run on her. They insisted she stay overnight, and though she begrudged them it, she couldn’t really refuse, not if they were to remain convinced that she really was nothing more than a poor, broken doll.
When she woke up, she was at St. Edelweiss.