June 13 // Robin, the Doctor
Date: BACKDATED June 13... I think. It's been so long I forget when we decided this was, exactly. T_T
Characters: Robin, the Doctor
Location: Machine shop
Summary: The Boy Wonder and the Oncoming Storm have a chat over some bits of metal. Robin attempts to interrogate the Doctor about the Master, without much success. They talk about Tamaraneans and Highlanders instead. He does manage to learn a bit about the Time Lords though. Robin interrogates the Doctor about the Master again, this time slightly more successfully, but the muns put an end to it before he can ask questions for the next ten years.
Robin sat at one of the workbenches in the machine shop, nodding along to the MC Hammer playing on his portable as he worked. He was, as usual, multi-tasking. He kept one eye on the electrolysis device he had running next to him on the bench, water bubbling as the electric current split it into hydrogen and oxygen. In front of him he had a small pile of metal, rectangular prism-shaped chips, in a couple of different sizes and shapes. He also had black and white paint and paintbrushes. "Can't touch this," he murmured along to the music, nodding as he unscrewed the white paint.
"I'm sorry, what can't I touch?" the Doctor asked in perfect seriousness, peering down at Robin over a pile of electronics in his arms, stacked as high as his nose. He emptied the bits and bobs onto an empty bit of the tabletop, taking a moment to two to make sure the various stray parts didn't roll away before he turned back to the boy.
Robin looked up as the Doctor entered. He blinked at the Time Lord's question, then grinned. "My dance moves, presumably."
The Doctor blinked for a moment, then broke out into a smile. "Yes, well, I think I can manage that." He turned back to his pile of things, unstacking them, arranging them in the order that he liked, trying to leave Robin to listen to his portable music. His resolve only lasted a few seconds, however. The Doctor was nothing if not chatty, moreso in this body than he had been in his first one, and he had a hard time sharing space with someone and not making conversation. "What are you working on, then?"
Robin's grin widened. "I dunno if I should tell you.... It's a surprise. A present for someone." He raised his eyebrows at the Doctor, dipping a brush in the white paint. "...Can I trust you to keep a secret?"
The Doctor instantly adopted a comically sober and ponderous face. "Why, yes, of course you can. Do I look like the sort of man who can't keep a secret?"
Robin narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, making a show of studying the Doctor's face. "...I guess I'll just have to take my chances," he said. He leaned conspiratorially towards the Doctor, his grin returning in a flash. "They're piano keys. I'm making a piano. Or, an electric keyboard, actually. For James."
The Doctor smiled softly - a different smile from earlier, when he was making a special show of being jovial and friendly and getting on with his fellow prisoners on this little colony. He wasn't sure what it was - the care that Robin was putting into the craft, with his little brush and two wells of ink - or the act of such a thoughtful gift in itself, but he felt an unexpected surge of kindness towards the boy. "How very kind of you," he said. He was quiet for a moment after, folding his hands in his lap, looking at Robin. "Is there any particular reason?"
Robin dismissed the compliment with a small smile, picking up one of the keys and concentrating on applying white paint. "He's been a bit down, recently. We got to talking and I guess back home his usual stress relief is playing his grand piano... he has a degree in music. They didn't give us any musical instruments here, and he misses it. So I thought... I can't make a grand piano, but an electric keyboard wouldn't be that hard." He shrugged, head bobbing unconsciously along with the music as he painted.
"Well can I help?" the Doctor offered without a moment's hesitation. He scooted his chair a little closer, peering at what Robin had set out already. He didn't know much about the inner workings of electric keyboards, but he was sure he'd be able to figure it out soon enough, with a few tries.
Robin blinked and looked up, smiling a little. "Sure, if you'd like... I don't wanna interrupt... whatever that is you're working on..." he said, raising his eyebrows questioningly at the piles of electronics the Doctor had brought with him.
"Oh, this," the Doctor said, patting the pile and wincing as it slid under his hand, several odd ends falling off and rolling across the floor - a roll of electrical tape, a yo-yo, some copper wiring, "I hadn't decided what I was going to make yet, so it's all the same if I think about it while I give you a little help."
Robin blinked, then laughed. "You like tinkering, huh? ...Well, right now I'm just painting the keys... while I'm waiting for them to dry I was gonna work on the switches... or maybe get the speakers connected up. You can help me that if you want, but for now... you paint the black keys I'll paint the white?" He gestured to a rectangular frame containing an ugly mess of wiring and circuitry. "I'm almost done with the thing... it's not gonna be pretty, what with the limited tools and materials here, but I'm pretty sure it will work." He grinned, looking pleased with himself.
The Doctor, a tiny bit disappointed he couldn't immediately dive into the wirey, electronic guts of the project, dutifully picked up the black well of ink and the brush. He wondered in the back of his mind, before he could suppress the thought, how long it would be until this task would start to bore him. Though, he supposed, conversation could make the manual work go faster. "Robin," he said, rather delicately, "Do you mind if I ask you what the Master has told you about the Time Lords?"
"Only if you mind me asking you a bunch of questions about them," he replied, shoving the smaller, not-as-flat metal pieces towards the Doctor. "He really hasn't told me much at all. He told me that he was from Gallifrey and that he was a time-traveler. The name 'Time Lord' never even came up until you showed up." Except that he told me not to trust them. ...Or he will tell me. Or something. "...He's told me a little bit about the Time Vortex," he said, setting a piece down to dry and glancing up at the Doctor. "...He's very tight-lipped," he added.
"Aha, yes, well, that's unsurprising." The Doctor painted the key, chuckling to himself. "He can be quite chatty when he wants, but only when he has a captive audience. He's quite fond of gloating when he thinks he's gotten one over on you. The fact that he's not said much tells me that he's not gotten up to anything too terrible, in the time that he's been here.
"At first I believed this place might have been set up by the Time Lords, as a kind of prison or punishment facility. I realized I was wrong almost at once, of course. The technology's all wrong. Something else must have pulled me in. I was on Gallifrey at the time when I was taken, so whatever is powering the collection process must be quite powerful." He paused to explain further, "The entire planet is surrounded by a transduction barrier. Very powerful. Impenetrable, according to the High Council..."
Robin narrowed his eyes as he listened. "From what little I've seen of the two of you in action, I don't like the thought of our captors being so advanced, even by your standards." He was quiet for a moment, then picked up on the Doctor's other point. "You know him, then. 'The Master'. ...What do you mean 'he's not gotten up to anything too terrible'? What would you be expecting?"
The Doctor had a little laugh, shaking his head, "He and I have known each other since we were children. Neither of us were exactly star pupils, according to the standards at the Academy. I could never pay attention or sit through the lesson, and the Master was always too busy trying to prove that he was cleverer than the instructors or learn through quicker or less sanctioned methods."
"No, no I don't like the thought of how advanced they must be, either. Though it doesn't necessarily make them too clever. The High Council may think themselves all-powerful and commanding, but they've been idle and stagnant for quite some time now. The other races of the universe, who aren't so infernally convinced of their own superiority, have been spending that time developing technology, exploring, doing experiments. I'm surprised the barrier wasn't breached earlier, now that I think of it.”
Robin frowned a little, thoughtfully. "He's terribly secretive. Every little thing I know about him or about anything he does I have to pry out of him or catch him red-handed. ...You call him 'the Master'. He told us to call him Cyril. Everything in his kit was labeled 'The Master' but he removed the name from all of his things."
Robin reached for another chip of metal, bringing paintbrush to bear. "I think our captors are human. Or if they're not, they're putting a lot of effort into pretending to be."
"Whyever would you say that?" the Doctor asked amicably, looking over to Robin with a smile, "Because the majority of colonists are humans?"
"That's part of it," Robin said as he painted. In the background the music switched over to 'Ice Ice Baby'. "Most of us are human and we all speak English; except for you, we're all either native Earthlings or were grabbed from there or both, and you mentioned spending time there...?" He glanced briefly, questioningly, up at the Doctor. "The way this place is designed, too. Everything's in English, the plants and animals are Earth species, all the entertainment media is from Earth, the extra spacesuits are human-shaped. Human dishes, human tools, human... human toilets."
"Quite the persuasive argument," the Doctor admitted, pride in his voice. He was a clever one for sure, this Robin. "Though I think you would be surprised. From my years of traveling, there is less variation in dishes and tools and toilets than you might think. Most of the depictions of alien life that I've encountered on Earth have been more fanciful than the reality. Quite a high percentage of the life out there is vaguely humanoid..." the Doctor trailed off, idly painting the cuff of his jacket, not looking at what he was doing, "I have started to wonder why that is....."
He shook that tangent off, returning his gaze to Robin, "But you're quite right about the plants and animals being Earth-based. Though it is possible that the operators of this facility, without being humans themselves, designed it to house humans and Time Lords and the like. A little research can go a long way.”
Robin smirked a little. "I wouldn't be, actually. Surprised, I mean. I've spent enough time in space, met enough aliens to know all that. Many of the species I've met have been humanoid. That's why all of this looks so human to me. There's some indefinable, stylistic quality that differentiates human artifacts from Kryptonian or Tamaranean." He gestured vaguely with his paintbrush. "All the technology... even accounting for differences in the timeline or across dimensions... it looks human." He shrugged. "...You're right, though, it doesn't necessarily mean our captors are human. It just means they have an intense, creepy interest in us. In fact-" he cut himself off, smirking. "...Doctor. You've painted your sleeve."
"A style, you say? Is there? I suppose I can't see it. Then again, I'm not human, am I?" He looked down at his sleeve, wiped at it perfunctorily with his handkerchief. He was surprised to hear that Robin was familiar with alien races. He had been too used to humans who lived before the first contact, Jamie and Victoria, Polly and Ben.
"I couldn't say I've ever heard of Tamaraneans," he chatted pleasantly, half out of curiosity, half to divert the conversation from the serious and unsettling topic of their mysterious captors, "What are they like?"
"...It's possible I'm projecting, since I am human. But I don't think so." He shrugged. "Like I said, it's indefinable, qualitative. I don't think I could prove it to you."
Robin smiled just a little bit, softly, as an image of the Tamaranean he knew best swam to the forefront of his mind. He swallowed, clearing his throat. "They look very similar to humans... or Time Lords," he said, nodding to the Doctor. "Orange-tinted skin, usually red or black hair, usually green or purple eyes. They're very strong, compared to humans, and very resistant to extreme temperatures, vacuum, and radiation. They can fly, and fire starbolts from their eyes and hands. They are... fierce warriors, but also a very happy, welcoming people. They... feel things very strongly." Aaaaand he was thinking of Starfire again. The small, private smile came back.
"They sound positively delightful," the Doctor said in a low voice. He was old enough and wise enough to be able to tell from Robin's expression that he was thinking of a particular Tamaranean. A girl, if he wasn't much mistaken. Their heightened resistances compared to humans weren't surprising - many other species were tougher than humans, in physical terms - but he was more interested in Robin's interactions with them than the species itself. "Do many Tamaraneans live on your version of Earth?"
Robin glanced sideways at the Doctor, clearing his throat again. "Just one," he said. "Her name's... well, in her language it's Koriand'r. It translates to 'Starfire' in English. ...She's my- she's my best friend, and she's a Titan, part of my team." Robin's paintbrush lowered, his eyes fixed on the piece he'd been painting without seeing it. The Titans. God but he missed them sometimes.
"Yes, yes I see," the Doctor said in quite a serious voice. He looked at Robin with his usual sympathy and compassion and, he found, an unprecedented level of personal understanding as well. Setting the brush and half-painted key down, he rested a hand on Robin's shoulder, waiting until he made eye contact to continue talking. "You know, I was a part of a team myself, before I came here. Not a formal one, so much. Just - a few friends, traveling together." He wasn't sure why he was sharing this information, exactly, except that he hoped that Robin might be comforted by the similarity of their situations. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, but it seems to me you miss her very much."
Robin blinked, glancing sharply up at the Doctor; he hadn't expected to be touched. He listened quietly, blushing slightly and glancing away at that last bit. "I... yeah, I do. A lot. I mean... I miss all of them. Every day. The Titans, they're my friends. They're... family. But... Star..." He shrugged. "...Yeah." My that lap is interesting.
"Star..." the Doctor prompted. He could guess, of course, how the boy would finish the sentence, but he was happy to keep the conversation going the way it was. He liked learning about other people, seeing the way they formed attachments to one another. It was something he'd come to admire in humans, at the end of his last life and the beginning of this one. Humans were warmer than Time Lords, more affectionate and impulsive with their hearts. The Doctor envied that, admired it, had done his very best to emulate it. "I'm sure you'll see her again, one day," he reassured, hoping it would be true.
Robin fidgeted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at the Doctor, a light blush hovering on his cheeks. "Star's... special," he said, sounding as if he was having trouble getting the words out. Which he was. He'd never been very good at talking about squishy feelings. Or at least, not his own squishy feelings. As the Doctor continued, however, Robin's expression grew more confident, his voice stronger. "I will," he said, nodding. "I'll make sure of it."
"That's the spirit!" the Doctor said, clapping his hands together. He felt, through one of his typical sudden shifts in mood, full of energy and initiative, ready to find a way off this rock and back to freedom. "That's something you learn as a time traveler, you see. It's never really too late, and nothing is ever really lost." He grinned, feeling an almost complacent optimism. "I've been in worse scrapes than this, let me tell you, and I've always managed to get out some way or another, eventually. Once had the Daleks on my tail for ... well, it felt like months, really. But we dealt with them in the end. Anything's possible when you put your mind to it.” The Doctor had a habit of making speeches.
Robin grinned back at the Doctor. Part of him was relieved to have the subject veer to safer territory than his feelings about Starfire (although part of him never wanted to think or talk about anything else). "Yeah, I've come up against worse than this, too... and beat it," he said with confidence. He tilted his head. "So who or what are the Daleks?" he asked.
The Doctor frowned in thought as he tried to come up with the perfect way to describe them. "Oh, an alien race hell-bent on the destruction of all other creatures in the universe. They are very efficient and emotionless killing machines, not anything you'd want to meet in a dark alley." He elbowed Robin in camaraderie. "At least we haven't got any of them on board here, eh?"
"Charming," Robin drawled. "They sound like the Locrix." Robin grinned a little, snorting softly. "Yeah. That'd be the last think we need."
"Locrix!?" the Doctor asked, grinning, "A race I haven't heard of, that's delightful. Are they very nasty?"
Robin nodded. "Vicious killing machines. They wanted nothing less than total galactic domination. They believed they were superior to 'organics' and were determined to wipe them... us... out." Robin frowned slightly. It was impossible to think of the Locrix without remembering Val Yor... and what he'd had to say about Robin's girlfriend. Racist jerk, Robin thought.
"Oh, yes, it sounds like the two would get on like a house on fire. Except for the shouting matches about which was superior and subsequent attempts to exterminate one another." The Doctor smiled.
Robin snorted. "Well, the Locrix weren't big on shouting, as I remember, but yeah. At least we probably wouldn't have to worry about a team-up." Robin turned his attention back to the key he'd been painting.
"You know," the Doctor said, slipping into a fond reminiscence, "One of the strangest aliens bent on total domination that I've met - there have been more than a few dozen, unfortunately - was the Yetis. Have you ever met a yeti?"
Robin blinked, laughing a little in surprised disbelief. "A yeti? You mean, like... big hairy snow monster, lives in Tibet? I've been in the area, but I've never seen one... total domination, really? And... aliens?"
"Well, there are actual yetis in the Himalayas, shy creatures native to Earth, and robotic drones made to mimic them, controlled by The Great Intelligence, which is, indeed, a megalomaniacal alien." The Doctor got a somewhat nostalgic look. "Yes, yes I remember when we first landed. Jamie wouldn't change, even though Victoria and I both told him he would freeze. He said Highlanders didn't feel the cold." The Doctor shook his head, grinning.
Robin grinned a little as he listened. The Doctor seemed like he had some pretty amazing adventures. "Jamie and Victoria... these are the friends you mentioned earlier? ...Have you spent a lot of time on Earth?"
The Doctor nodded. He thought of Victoria, safe with the family that took her in after she decided to stop traveling with Jamie and the Doctor. It had been the right decision after all, it seemed. Jamie had stayed with him, much as it had broken both their hearts to leave her behind, and now Jamie didn't even remember that the Doctor existed.
"Yes, they are. And others." The Doctor sighed rather heavily, "They were from the Earth, so we spent quite a bit of time there."
Robin glanced up from his work as the Doctor sighed. "...Where are they now?" he asked, his voice softening a little.
The Doctor didn't say anything for a while. It wasn't like him, the lingering gloominess. When Victoria had gone, he had found Zoe. When Barbara and Ian had left, Stephen and Polly and Ben had shown up to fill their places. It was becoming what he did, swapping out humans for one another. Still, it had always been their choice before, their decision to leave the TARDIS. Zoe, yes, he had imagined she would go one day. If they landed somewhere where her genius was needed, or she fell in love with some boy, like Susan had. But Jamie, Jamie had been with him for years, hadn't been about to leave him. And to have them forget-
He needed to stop lingering upon it. It would turn him bitter, or mad. "Gone," he said, after the long silence, "But never forgotten."
Robin frowned with sympathetic concern. He set the key he'd been painting aside to dry, focusing all his attention on the Doctor. "Gone? Not-" He couldn't bring himself to say 'dead'. "Did... something happen to them?" he asked instead, hesitantly. He wasn't sure where the Doctor's boundaries were, and he didn't wish to cause him undue pain.
"No, no not dead. I hope," he added as an afterthought, thinking of Jamie and the redcoats. As for explaining what happened to them, well. He would have to do it eventually, he might as well get used to it. "My people captured us. They were rather cross with me, so they took Zoe and Jamie from me and erased all their memories of me, and put them back to the time and place where we first met." He said the words dully.
Robin relaxed a little, relieved to hear the Doctor's friends hadn't been killed, despite the fact that he'd never met them. The Doctor's next words, however, shocked him. "Your people captured-?" He frowned. Whatever had happened, erasing people's memories seemed a bit extreme. "...What did you do?" he asked.
"Interfered," the Doctor spat the world as if it were bitter, a hunk of verbal gristle, "I traveled from planet to planet and time to time and where I saw injustice, I corrected it. I helped people in danger, people who were being oppressed, or tortured or manipulated. The Time Lords are very strict when it comes to their policy of non-intervention. They don't believe that we have a responsibility to help lesser peoples."
Robin's frown deepened. He was aware he was only getting the Doctor's side of the story, and every viewpoint was biased, but.... "That's not fair," he said. "You shouldn't be punished for that. Your people... the Time Lords... they have a law against helping people?" Robin's voice went up a few notes, incredulous. He was aware of some pretty xenophobic cultures, but... that just seemed wrong.
"They have laws against interfering, one way or another. They believe that Gallifrey and the Time Lords are all-powerful and that none of the events of the universe will ever threaten us again. They sit in their transduction barrier and think they are untouchable and can afford to step away from events, that nothing will ever challenge their supremacy. They've forgotten what it's like to be curious, or afraid, or outnumbered, or weak. On the whole it is a society of dusty, pompous, petty old men. Which is why I left - why the Master left, too. Neither of us were ever very at home, there."
Robin considered this, frowning. He'd never come across a people like how the Doctor described the Time Lords... although, he supposed he wouldn't, if they thought they were too good to interfere in the lives of lesser mortals. If they were that powerful, though... he could see why the Doctor had thought they'd been brought here by the Time Lords.
He met the Doctor's gaze. "I'm glad you're different. And I'm sorry they punished you for it." He shook his head. "People shouldn't isolate themselves..." He frowned. "That TARDIS, and the portal to the Time Vortex Cyril... the Master made, that's Time Lord technology, right? ...Your people can go anywhere in time and space... and they just sit there?"
"Exactly!" the Doctor said, somewhat cheered by the reminder that there was a growing TARDIS nearby. Time could be rewritten. No matter how long it took him, he could go back to right after Jamie and Zoe, could restore their memories and be off on more adventures. He just needed to be patient, to keep cheerful and determined.
The Doctor had never been good at patient.
"With so many wonderful places and times to go...I could keep traveling all my lives and never see it all."
Robin was still thinking. "I guess... I guess I can kind of see how it makes sense to avoid meddling in other peoples' affairs, if the Time Lords are as powerful as all that, but... but it just seems wrong... to make it against the law to help..." He shook his head, letting it go. "...I bet you've seen some amazing things," he said, cracking a small smile... then blinked. "...Lives...?" ...Had he heard that wrong?
"Even if it were a sensible law, they'd no right punishing Jamie and Zoe for my actions." The Doctor thought of the High Council, and their arrogance and patronizing attitude towards humans. He'd never been one for revenge, but he had to admit to himself, he was a little tempted.
"Hmm. Oh, yes, yes he probably wouldn't tell you, did he? Time Lords may look quite like humans on the outside, but really we're quite different. We have thirteen lives. When we die, we regenerate into completely new bodies. Of course, there are exceptions. If we are killed very quickly, before the process can occur, our deaths can be permanent."
Robin nodded his agreement. In his opinion, erasing someone's memories was a violation that should be avoided at all costs.
Robin quirked an eyebrow, shaking his head. "No, your friend 'the Master' told me very little about himself, and your people." His eyebrows climbed in astonishment as the Doctor continued. "Whoa. Really? That's... that..." He blinked, as his brain made a leap. "...That explains why you didn't recognize him. ...I mean. I was watching. When Sam said, 'the Master'... you didn't know it was him before then, did you?" Both Time Lords’ reactions had been extremely subtle... but Robin was good with subtle.
"Yes, it really can cause quite a few awkward situations. I'm in my second body just now, but he's on his tenth or so, I believe he said. He was also taken from a point of time very far in my personal future. Like ... if a friend of yours were to appear here, but they had aged forty or fifty human years." The Doctor had no qualms about sharing this personal information that the Master had divulged to him. He couldn't see why the Master would want to keep it secret in the first place.
Robin tried to imagine his friends that much older. Or Batman. Starfire had told them all about her experiences twenty years in their future... that had been weird enough to think about.
"...So he recognized you. But he didn't tell you," Robin said. He narrowed his eyes, looking into the middle distance, remembering. "He didn't seem too pleased to have you find out." Sharp eyes swung back to the Doctor. "You didn't seem too pleased either," he said.
"Well, it's always strange, when people from different points of your life interact. Everyone has a sort of ... closet of identities, and they assume one or another depending on what company they are in. Until I arrived, he was a certain version of himself, interacting with new people who knew nothing about him. He could withhold or invent whatever he liked about himself, with no one to question him. I've known the Master since we were children, since we were younger than you are now. My being here restricts his possibilities, just as he restricts mine. We fall into old patterns of behavior around each other."
...Interesting. Robin raised an eyebrow. "So you're, what, cramping each other's style?" he asked.
The Doctor laughed. "Yes, yes I suppose that is a very efficient way to summarize it."
Robin smirked a little, then shook his head, still thinking about Cyril... the Master. He was trying to get used to thinking of him as the Master. "He made up the name Cyril on the spot, didn't he?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically, in line with his thoughts.
"Well, it's not one of the ones I've heard him use before, and the Master is very clever on his feet." The Doctor paused to consider, a furrow forming between his brows. The Master was clever, yes, clever and manipulative, and hypnotic. He wondered if he'd exerted his influence over anyone on the colony yet, but didn't think it proper to ask Robin. He didn't want to cast aspersions, not when he didn't know what kind of changes might have occurred to the Master's personality, in the eras that he had not yet lived.
Robin nodded absently, occupied with his own thoughts. The Master hadn't done anything bad, but something about him made Robin... edgy. The tendency toward secrecy didn't help. "Do you trust him?" Robin asked abruptly, his eyes flicking back to the Doctor's face.
The Doctor couldn't avoid such a bald question as that. He didn't have to consider before he answered, seriously, "No, no I don't." He added, "But we are friends. Of a sort."
Well. Now we're getting somewhere. That was... an interesting answer. Robin nodded once, sharply. "Okay," he said. "...Is he dangerous?"
"Yes," the Doctor said, again, "Then again, so am I. So are you, in a certain capacity. But yes, he is dangerous."
Robin nodded again, acknowledging the caveat's in the Doctor's answer with a small half-smile, though his eyes remained serious. Okay," he said again.
Characters: Robin, the Doctor
Location: Machine shop
Summary: The Boy Wonder and the Oncoming Storm have a chat over some bits of metal. Robin attempts to interrogate the Doctor about the Master, without much success. They talk about Tamaraneans and Highlanders instead. He does manage to learn a bit about the Time Lords though. Robin interrogates the Doctor about the Master again, this time slightly more successfully, but the muns put an end to it before he can ask questions for the next ten years.
Robin sat at one of the workbenches in the machine shop, nodding along to the MC Hammer playing on his portable as he worked. He was, as usual, multi-tasking. He kept one eye on the electrolysis device he had running next to him on the bench, water bubbling as the electric current split it into hydrogen and oxygen. In front of him he had a small pile of metal, rectangular prism-shaped chips, in a couple of different sizes and shapes. He also had black and white paint and paintbrushes. "Can't touch this," he murmured along to the music, nodding as he unscrewed the white paint.
"I'm sorry, what can't I touch?" the Doctor asked in perfect seriousness, peering down at Robin over a pile of electronics in his arms, stacked as high as his nose. He emptied the bits and bobs onto an empty bit of the tabletop, taking a moment to two to make sure the various stray parts didn't roll away before he turned back to the boy.
Robin looked up as the Doctor entered. He blinked at the Time Lord's question, then grinned. "My dance moves, presumably."
The Doctor blinked for a moment, then broke out into a smile. "Yes, well, I think I can manage that." He turned back to his pile of things, unstacking them, arranging them in the order that he liked, trying to leave Robin to listen to his portable music. His resolve only lasted a few seconds, however. The Doctor was nothing if not chatty, moreso in this body than he had been in his first one, and he had a hard time sharing space with someone and not making conversation. "What are you working on, then?"
Robin's grin widened. "I dunno if I should tell you.... It's a surprise. A present for someone." He raised his eyebrows at the Doctor, dipping a brush in the white paint. "...Can I trust you to keep a secret?"
The Doctor instantly adopted a comically sober and ponderous face. "Why, yes, of course you can. Do I look like the sort of man who can't keep a secret?"
Robin narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, making a show of studying the Doctor's face. "...I guess I'll just have to take my chances," he said. He leaned conspiratorially towards the Doctor, his grin returning in a flash. "They're piano keys. I'm making a piano. Or, an electric keyboard, actually. For James."
The Doctor smiled softly - a different smile from earlier, when he was making a special show of being jovial and friendly and getting on with his fellow prisoners on this little colony. He wasn't sure what it was - the care that Robin was putting into the craft, with his little brush and two wells of ink - or the act of such a thoughtful gift in itself, but he felt an unexpected surge of kindness towards the boy. "How very kind of you," he said. He was quiet for a moment after, folding his hands in his lap, looking at Robin. "Is there any particular reason?"
Robin dismissed the compliment with a small smile, picking up one of the keys and concentrating on applying white paint. "He's been a bit down, recently. We got to talking and I guess back home his usual stress relief is playing his grand piano... he has a degree in music. They didn't give us any musical instruments here, and he misses it. So I thought... I can't make a grand piano, but an electric keyboard wouldn't be that hard." He shrugged, head bobbing unconsciously along with the music as he painted.
"Well can I help?" the Doctor offered without a moment's hesitation. He scooted his chair a little closer, peering at what Robin had set out already. He didn't know much about the inner workings of electric keyboards, but he was sure he'd be able to figure it out soon enough, with a few tries.
Robin blinked and looked up, smiling a little. "Sure, if you'd like... I don't wanna interrupt... whatever that is you're working on..." he said, raising his eyebrows questioningly at the piles of electronics the Doctor had brought with him.
"Oh, this," the Doctor said, patting the pile and wincing as it slid under his hand, several odd ends falling off and rolling across the floor - a roll of electrical tape, a yo-yo, some copper wiring, "I hadn't decided what I was going to make yet, so it's all the same if I think about it while I give you a little help."
Robin blinked, then laughed. "You like tinkering, huh? ...Well, right now I'm just painting the keys... while I'm waiting for them to dry I was gonna work on the switches... or maybe get the speakers connected up. You can help me that if you want, but for now... you paint the black keys I'll paint the white?" He gestured to a rectangular frame containing an ugly mess of wiring and circuitry. "I'm almost done with the thing... it's not gonna be pretty, what with the limited tools and materials here, but I'm pretty sure it will work." He grinned, looking pleased with himself.
The Doctor, a tiny bit disappointed he couldn't immediately dive into the wirey, electronic guts of the project, dutifully picked up the black well of ink and the brush. He wondered in the back of his mind, before he could suppress the thought, how long it would be until this task would start to bore him. Though, he supposed, conversation could make the manual work go faster. "Robin," he said, rather delicately, "Do you mind if I ask you what the Master has told you about the Time Lords?"
"Only if you mind me asking you a bunch of questions about them," he replied, shoving the smaller, not-as-flat metal pieces towards the Doctor. "He really hasn't told me much at all. He told me that he was from Gallifrey and that he was a time-traveler. The name 'Time Lord' never even came up until you showed up." Except that he told me not to trust them. ...Or he will tell me. Or something. "...He's told me a little bit about the Time Vortex," he said, setting a piece down to dry and glancing up at the Doctor. "...He's very tight-lipped," he added.
"Aha, yes, well, that's unsurprising." The Doctor painted the key, chuckling to himself. "He can be quite chatty when he wants, but only when he has a captive audience. He's quite fond of gloating when he thinks he's gotten one over on you. The fact that he's not said much tells me that he's not gotten up to anything too terrible, in the time that he's been here.
"At first I believed this place might have been set up by the Time Lords, as a kind of prison or punishment facility. I realized I was wrong almost at once, of course. The technology's all wrong. Something else must have pulled me in. I was on Gallifrey at the time when I was taken, so whatever is powering the collection process must be quite powerful." He paused to explain further, "The entire planet is surrounded by a transduction barrier. Very powerful. Impenetrable, according to the High Council..."
Robin narrowed his eyes as he listened. "From what little I've seen of the two of you in action, I don't like the thought of our captors being so advanced, even by your standards." He was quiet for a moment, then picked up on the Doctor's other point. "You know him, then. 'The Master'. ...What do you mean 'he's not gotten up to anything too terrible'? What would you be expecting?"
The Doctor had a little laugh, shaking his head, "He and I have known each other since we were children. Neither of us were exactly star pupils, according to the standards at the Academy. I could never pay attention or sit through the lesson, and the Master was always too busy trying to prove that he was cleverer than the instructors or learn through quicker or less sanctioned methods."
"No, no I don't like the thought of how advanced they must be, either. Though it doesn't necessarily make them too clever. The High Council may think themselves all-powerful and commanding, but they've been idle and stagnant for quite some time now. The other races of the universe, who aren't so infernally convinced of their own superiority, have been spending that time developing technology, exploring, doing experiments. I'm surprised the barrier wasn't breached earlier, now that I think of it.”
Robin frowned a little, thoughtfully. "He's terribly secretive. Every little thing I know about him or about anything he does I have to pry out of him or catch him red-handed. ...You call him 'the Master'. He told us to call him Cyril. Everything in his kit was labeled 'The Master' but he removed the name from all of his things."
Robin reached for another chip of metal, bringing paintbrush to bear. "I think our captors are human. Or if they're not, they're putting a lot of effort into pretending to be."
"Whyever would you say that?" the Doctor asked amicably, looking over to Robin with a smile, "Because the majority of colonists are humans?"
"That's part of it," Robin said as he painted. In the background the music switched over to 'Ice Ice Baby'. "Most of us are human and we all speak English; except for you, we're all either native Earthlings or were grabbed from there or both, and you mentioned spending time there...?" He glanced briefly, questioningly, up at the Doctor. "The way this place is designed, too. Everything's in English, the plants and animals are Earth species, all the entertainment media is from Earth, the extra spacesuits are human-shaped. Human dishes, human tools, human... human toilets."
"Quite the persuasive argument," the Doctor admitted, pride in his voice. He was a clever one for sure, this Robin. "Though I think you would be surprised. From my years of traveling, there is less variation in dishes and tools and toilets than you might think. Most of the depictions of alien life that I've encountered on Earth have been more fanciful than the reality. Quite a high percentage of the life out there is vaguely humanoid..." the Doctor trailed off, idly painting the cuff of his jacket, not looking at what he was doing, "I have started to wonder why that is....."
He shook that tangent off, returning his gaze to Robin, "But you're quite right about the plants and animals being Earth-based. Though it is possible that the operators of this facility, without being humans themselves, designed it to house humans and Time Lords and the like. A little research can go a long way.”
Robin smirked a little. "I wouldn't be, actually. Surprised, I mean. I've spent enough time in space, met enough aliens to know all that. Many of the species I've met have been humanoid. That's why all of this looks so human to me. There's some indefinable, stylistic quality that differentiates human artifacts from Kryptonian or Tamaranean." He gestured vaguely with his paintbrush. "All the technology... even accounting for differences in the timeline or across dimensions... it looks human." He shrugged. "...You're right, though, it doesn't necessarily mean our captors are human. It just means they have an intense, creepy interest in us. In fact-" he cut himself off, smirking. "...Doctor. You've painted your sleeve."
"A style, you say? Is there? I suppose I can't see it. Then again, I'm not human, am I?" He looked down at his sleeve, wiped at it perfunctorily with his handkerchief. He was surprised to hear that Robin was familiar with alien races. He had been too used to humans who lived before the first contact, Jamie and Victoria, Polly and Ben.
"I couldn't say I've ever heard of Tamaraneans," he chatted pleasantly, half out of curiosity, half to divert the conversation from the serious and unsettling topic of their mysterious captors, "What are they like?"
"...It's possible I'm projecting, since I am human. But I don't think so." He shrugged. "Like I said, it's indefinable, qualitative. I don't think I could prove it to you."
Robin smiled just a little bit, softly, as an image of the Tamaranean he knew best swam to the forefront of his mind. He swallowed, clearing his throat. "They look very similar to humans... or Time Lords," he said, nodding to the Doctor. "Orange-tinted skin, usually red or black hair, usually green or purple eyes. They're very strong, compared to humans, and very resistant to extreme temperatures, vacuum, and radiation. They can fly, and fire starbolts from their eyes and hands. They are... fierce warriors, but also a very happy, welcoming people. They... feel things very strongly." Aaaaand he was thinking of Starfire again. The small, private smile came back.
"They sound positively delightful," the Doctor said in a low voice. He was old enough and wise enough to be able to tell from Robin's expression that he was thinking of a particular Tamaranean. A girl, if he wasn't much mistaken. Their heightened resistances compared to humans weren't surprising - many other species were tougher than humans, in physical terms - but he was more interested in Robin's interactions with them than the species itself. "Do many Tamaraneans live on your version of Earth?"
Robin glanced sideways at the Doctor, clearing his throat again. "Just one," he said. "Her name's... well, in her language it's Koriand'r. It translates to 'Starfire' in English. ...She's my- she's my best friend, and she's a Titan, part of my team." Robin's paintbrush lowered, his eyes fixed on the piece he'd been painting without seeing it. The Titans. God but he missed them sometimes.
"Yes, yes I see," the Doctor said in quite a serious voice. He looked at Robin with his usual sympathy and compassion and, he found, an unprecedented level of personal understanding as well. Setting the brush and half-painted key down, he rested a hand on Robin's shoulder, waiting until he made eye contact to continue talking. "You know, I was a part of a team myself, before I came here. Not a formal one, so much. Just - a few friends, traveling together." He wasn't sure why he was sharing this information, exactly, except that he hoped that Robin might be comforted by the similarity of their situations. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, but it seems to me you miss her very much."
Robin blinked, glancing sharply up at the Doctor; he hadn't expected to be touched. He listened quietly, blushing slightly and glancing away at that last bit. "I... yeah, I do. A lot. I mean... I miss all of them. Every day. The Titans, they're my friends. They're... family. But... Star..." He shrugged. "...Yeah." My that lap is interesting.
"Star..." the Doctor prompted. He could guess, of course, how the boy would finish the sentence, but he was happy to keep the conversation going the way it was. He liked learning about other people, seeing the way they formed attachments to one another. It was something he'd come to admire in humans, at the end of his last life and the beginning of this one. Humans were warmer than Time Lords, more affectionate and impulsive with their hearts. The Doctor envied that, admired it, had done his very best to emulate it. "I'm sure you'll see her again, one day," he reassured, hoping it would be true.
Robin fidgeted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at the Doctor, a light blush hovering on his cheeks. "Star's... special," he said, sounding as if he was having trouble getting the words out. Which he was. He'd never been very good at talking about squishy feelings. Or at least, not his own squishy feelings. As the Doctor continued, however, Robin's expression grew more confident, his voice stronger. "I will," he said, nodding. "I'll make sure of it."
"That's the spirit!" the Doctor said, clapping his hands together. He felt, through one of his typical sudden shifts in mood, full of energy and initiative, ready to find a way off this rock and back to freedom. "That's something you learn as a time traveler, you see. It's never really too late, and nothing is ever really lost." He grinned, feeling an almost complacent optimism. "I've been in worse scrapes than this, let me tell you, and I've always managed to get out some way or another, eventually. Once had the Daleks on my tail for ... well, it felt like months, really. But we dealt with them in the end. Anything's possible when you put your mind to it.” The Doctor had a habit of making speeches.
Robin grinned back at the Doctor. Part of him was relieved to have the subject veer to safer territory than his feelings about Starfire (although part of him never wanted to think or talk about anything else). "Yeah, I've come up against worse than this, too... and beat it," he said with confidence. He tilted his head. "So who or what are the Daleks?" he asked.
The Doctor frowned in thought as he tried to come up with the perfect way to describe them. "Oh, an alien race hell-bent on the destruction of all other creatures in the universe. They are very efficient and emotionless killing machines, not anything you'd want to meet in a dark alley." He elbowed Robin in camaraderie. "At least we haven't got any of them on board here, eh?"
"Charming," Robin drawled. "They sound like the Locrix." Robin grinned a little, snorting softly. "Yeah. That'd be the last think we need."
"Locrix!?" the Doctor asked, grinning, "A race I haven't heard of, that's delightful. Are they very nasty?"
Robin nodded. "Vicious killing machines. They wanted nothing less than total galactic domination. They believed they were superior to 'organics' and were determined to wipe them... us... out." Robin frowned slightly. It was impossible to think of the Locrix without remembering Val Yor... and what he'd had to say about Robin's girlfriend. Racist jerk, Robin thought.
"Oh, yes, it sounds like the two would get on like a house on fire. Except for the shouting matches about which was superior and subsequent attempts to exterminate one another." The Doctor smiled.
Robin snorted. "Well, the Locrix weren't big on shouting, as I remember, but yeah. At least we probably wouldn't have to worry about a team-up." Robin turned his attention back to the key he'd been painting.
"You know," the Doctor said, slipping into a fond reminiscence, "One of the strangest aliens bent on total domination that I've met - there have been more than a few dozen, unfortunately - was the Yetis. Have you ever met a yeti?"
Robin blinked, laughing a little in surprised disbelief. "A yeti? You mean, like... big hairy snow monster, lives in Tibet? I've been in the area, but I've never seen one... total domination, really? And... aliens?"
"Well, there are actual yetis in the Himalayas, shy creatures native to Earth, and robotic drones made to mimic them, controlled by The Great Intelligence, which is, indeed, a megalomaniacal alien." The Doctor got a somewhat nostalgic look. "Yes, yes I remember when we first landed. Jamie wouldn't change, even though Victoria and I both told him he would freeze. He said Highlanders didn't feel the cold." The Doctor shook his head, grinning.
Robin grinned a little as he listened. The Doctor seemed like he had some pretty amazing adventures. "Jamie and Victoria... these are the friends you mentioned earlier? ...Have you spent a lot of time on Earth?"
The Doctor nodded. He thought of Victoria, safe with the family that took her in after she decided to stop traveling with Jamie and the Doctor. It had been the right decision after all, it seemed. Jamie had stayed with him, much as it had broken both their hearts to leave her behind, and now Jamie didn't even remember that the Doctor existed.
"Yes, they are. And others." The Doctor sighed rather heavily, "They were from the Earth, so we spent quite a bit of time there."
Robin glanced up from his work as the Doctor sighed. "...Where are they now?" he asked, his voice softening a little.
The Doctor didn't say anything for a while. It wasn't like him, the lingering gloominess. When Victoria had gone, he had found Zoe. When Barbara and Ian had left, Stephen and Polly and Ben had shown up to fill their places. It was becoming what he did, swapping out humans for one another. Still, it had always been their choice before, their decision to leave the TARDIS. Zoe, yes, he had imagined she would go one day. If they landed somewhere where her genius was needed, or she fell in love with some boy, like Susan had. But Jamie, Jamie had been with him for years, hadn't been about to leave him. And to have them forget-
He needed to stop lingering upon it. It would turn him bitter, or mad. "Gone," he said, after the long silence, "But never forgotten."
Robin frowned with sympathetic concern. He set the key he'd been painting aside to dry, focusing all his attention on the Doctor. "Gone? Not-" He couldn't bring himself to say 'dead'. "Did... something happen to them?" he asked instead, hesitantly. He wasn't sure where the Doctor's boundaries were, and he didn't wish to cause him undue pain.
"No, no not dead. I hope," he added as an afterthought, thinking of Jamie and the redcoats. As for explaining what happened to them, well. He would have to do it eventually, he might as well get used to it. "My people captured us. They were rather cross with me, so they took Zoe and Jamie from me and erased all their memories of me, and put them back to the time and place where we first met." He said the words dully.
Robin relaxed a little, relieved to hear the Doctor's friends hadn't been killed, despite the fact that he'd never met them. The Doctor's next words, however, shocked him. "Your people captured-?" He frowned. Whatever had happened, erasing people's memories seemed a bit extreme. "...What did you do?" he asked.
"Interfered," the Doctor spat the world as if it were bitter, a hunk of verbal gristle, "I traveled from planet to planet and time to time and where I saw injustice, I corrected it. I helped people in danger, people who were being oppressed, or tortured or manipulated. The Time Lords are very strict when it comes to their policy of non-intervention. They don't believe that we have a responsibility to help lesser peoples."
Robin's frown deepened. He was aware he was only getting the Doctor's side of the story, and every viewpoint was biased, but.... "That's not fair," he said. "You shouldn't be punished for that. Your people... the Time Lords... they have a law against helping people?" Robin's voice went up a few notes, incredulous. He was aware of some pretty xenophobic cultures, but... that just seemed wrong.
"They have laws against interfering, one way or another. They believe that Gallifrey and the Time Lords are all-powerful and that none of the events of the universe will ever threaten us again. They sit in their transduction barrier and think they are untouchable and can afford to step away from events, that nothing will ever challenge their supremacy. They've forgotten what it's like to be curious, or afraid, or outnumbered, or weak. On the whole it is a society of dusty, pompous, petty old men. Which is why I left - why the Master left, too. Neither of us were ever very at home, there."
Robin considered this, frowning. He'd never come across a people like how the Doctor described the Time Lords... although, he supposed he wouldn't, if they thought they were too good to interfere in the lives of lesser mortals. If they were that powerful, though... he could see why the Doctor had thought they'd been brought here by the Time Lords.
He met the Doctor's gaze. "I'm glad you're different. And I'm sorry they punished you for it." He shook his head. "People shouldn't isolate themselves..." He frowned. "That TARDIS, and the portal to the Time Vortex Cyril... the Master made, that's Time Lord technology, right? ...Your people can go anywhere in time and space... and they just sit there?"
"Exactly!" the Doctor said, somewhat cheered by the reminder that there was a growing TARDIS nearby. Time could be rewritten. No matter how long it took him, he could go back to right after Jamie and Zoe, could restore their memories and be off on more adventures. He just needed to be patient, to keep cheerful and determined.
The Doctor had never been good at patient.
"With so many wonderful places and times to go...I could keep traveling all my lives and never see it all."
Robin was still thinking. "I guess... I guess I can kind of see how it makes sense to avoid meddling in other peoples' affairs, if the Time Lords are as powerful as all that, but... but it just seems wrong... to make it against the law to help..." He shook his head, letting it go. "...I bet you've seen some amazing things," he said, cracking a small smile... then blinked. "...Lives...?" ...Had he heard that wrong?
"Even if it were a sensible law, they'd no right punishing Jamie and Zoe for my actions." The Doctor thought of the High Council, and their arrogance and patronizing attitude towards humans. He'd never been one for revenge, but he had to admit to himself, he was a little tempted.
"Hmm. Oh, yes, yes he probably wouldn't tell you, did he? Time Lords may look quite like humans on the outside, but really we're quite different. We have thirteen lives. When we die, we regenerate into completely new bodies. Of course, there are exceptions. If we are killed very quickly, before the process can occur, our deaths can be permanent."
Robin nodded his agreement. In his opinion, erasing someone's memories was a violation that should be avoided at all costs.
Robin quirked an eyebrow, shaking his head. "No, your friend 'the Master' told me very little about himself, and your people." His eyebrows climbed in astonishment as the Doctor continued. "Whoa. Really? That's... that..." He blinked, as his brain made a leap. "...That explains why you didn't recognize him. ...I mean. I was watching. When Sam said, 'the Master'... you didn't know it was him before then, did you?" Both Time Lords’ reactions had been extremely subtle... but Robin was good with subtle.
"Yes, it really can cause quite a few awkward situations. I'm in my second body just now, but he's on his tenth or so, I believe he said. He was also taken from a point of time very far in my personal future. Like ... if a friend of yours were to appear here, but they had aged forty or fifty human years." The Doctor had no qualms about sharing this personal information that the Master had divulged to him. He couldn't see why the Master would want to keep it secret in the first place.
Robin tried to imagine his friends that much older. Or Batman. Starfire had told them all about her experiences twenty years in their future... that had been weird enough to think about.
"...So he recognized you. But he didn't tell you," Robin said. He narrowed his eyes, looking into the middle distance, remembering. "He didn't seem too pleased to have you find out." Sharp eyes swung back to the Doctor. "You didn't seem too pleased either," he said.
"Well, it's always strange, when people from different points of your life interact. Everyone has a sort of ... closet of identities, and they assume one or another depending on what company they are in. Until I arrived, he was a certain version of himself, interacting with new people who knew nothing about him. He could withhold or invent whatever he liked about himself, with no one to question him. I've known the Master since we were children, since we were younger than you are now. My being here restricts his possibilities, just as he restricts mine. We fall into old patterns of behavior around each other."
...Interesting. Robin raised an eyebrow. "So you're, what, cramping each other's style?" he asked.
The Doctor laughed. "Yes, yes I suppose that is a very efficient way to summarize it."
Robin smirked a little, then shook his head, still thinking about Cyril... the Master. He was trying to get used to thinking of him as the Master. "He made up the name Cyril on the spot, didn't he?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically, in line with his thoughts.
"Well, it's not one of the ones I've heard him use before, and the Master is very clever on his feet." The Doctor paused to consider, a furrow forming between his brows. The Master was clever, yes, clever and manipulative, and hypnotic. He wondered if he'd exerted his influence over anyone on the colony yet, but didn't think it proper to ask Robin. He didn't want to cast aspersions, not when he didn't know what kind of changes might have occurred to the Master's personality, in the eras that he had not yet lived.
Robin nodded absently, occupied with his own thoughts. The Master hadn't done anything bad, but something about him made Robin... edgy. The tendency toward secrecy didn't help. "Do you trust him?" Robin asked abruptly, his eyes flicking back to the Doctor's face.
The Doctor couldn't avoid such a bald question as that. He didn't have to consider before he answered, seriously, "No, no I don't." He added, "But we are friends. Of a sort."
Well. Now we're getting somewhere. That was... an interesting answer. Robin nodded once, sharply. "Okay," he said. "...Is he dangerous?"
"Yes," the Doctor said, again, "Then again, so am I. So are you, in a certain capacity. But yes, he is dangerous."
Robin nodded again, acknowledging the caveat's in the Doctor's answer with a small half-smile, though his eyes remained serious. Okay," he said again.