justprompts costume
It starts when the Doctor announces their intended destination and how long it will be till he finally pilots the ship to the aforementioned destination. Naturally, being the heroic Time Lord that the Doctor is, he takes his time but that's irrelevant considering that they are, in fact, living in a time ship. The Master keeps track of the days as they pass, relishing the idea of being able to leave this ship for any amount of time, even if doing so requires the use of those damnable cuffs. He can only stray so far and if he pushes those limits he gets a nice lovely shock.
He thinks this is his punishment for giving the Doctor a doggy bowl for a whole Year but keeps that to himself, even if the Doctor should be supremely happy that he was fed at all.
They ignore each other for the most part. The Doctor stops various places to save various peoples and planets, leaving the Master tucked away (relatively) safely in the TARDIS. The Master explores the TARDIS, grateful that the large amount of space at least keeps him from attempting to throttle the Doctor at the slightest whim and the two Time Lords lapse into an uncomfortable silence.
After a week, the Doctor, while looking for something he'd tucked away in a corridor somewhere is nearly beheaded by a flying axe set to a simple trigger mechanism. It embeds itself into the bulkhead beside him and a few colorful curses echo down the hall. He calms fairly quickly, mentally chastising himself for not paying attention and letting his guard down around the other, quite insane, Time Lord that is occupying the TARDIS. He pulls it free and its only then that he notices the sticky, red substance on the edge of the blade. Surely the Master hadn't done something so stupid as to be hurt by his own devices and limp off to die in some deeper part of the ship while hoping his best enemy would fall for the same trick, right?
It takes time, but he finds him on the floor of the kitchen, curled in the fetal position and clutching a bloody arm to his chest. He drops down immediately, trying to get him to let go so he can see how bad the damage is but of course he's being difficult. The Master's face is contorted in pain and he lets out a scream when his keeper touches the damaged arm, blood spraying all over his face and both their clothes. He tries to wrestle him to stillness and sort this out, fear gripping him tightly before he rips open the sleeve of his white button down shirt to find no wound. His mouth works soundlessly as his fingers wipe at the crimson fluid frantically, not yet realizing that the Master is shaking from laughing at his very obvious distress.
"Gotcha!" he exclaims with barely enough breath to get it out.
He smacks him with the axe handle in the shoulder as he gets up to storm out. "Quit leaving your stupid toys laying all over the place!"
The next week, he tromps into the library where the Master is reading, face obscured by the book. The smell of burnt hair wafts in and the Master crinkles his nose, lowering the book so only his eyes are visible and tries not to laugh at the sight before him. "I'm not sure which part I liked more," he starts. "The welding torch in the doorway or the power cables in the bathtub," the Doctor finishes.
The Master can't contain himself any longer and breaks into a fit of outright giggling at the sight of a sopping wet Doctor, adorned with scorch marks with his hair standing on end. His reward for that is a soaked converse smacking him in the face.
"I liked those shoes!"
And the Master only laughs harder as he stalks out.
The tricks continue, some fairly weak compared to the Master's usual thirst for pain and others well, the Doctor is seriously wondering why he ever thought that this was a good idea. He falls through a sabotaged grating, while he's trying to pilot the TARDIS, acquiring a rather nice lump for a while which the Master takes to thumping when he isn't paying attention. Salt in his tea. Explosives in his bed, after which he announces that the kitchen is also off limits to the Master. Despite all these things happening, he hasn't seen the Master in weeks and he's trying not to worry and give him the satisfaction of going to look for him. He takes to sneaking around the corridors of his own ship due to his own paranoia, even using a broom handle to open doors and cabinets in fear of something flying out at him. Despite his caution, nothing happens and he feels oddly neglected.
Finally, they arrive at their destination and he parks the TARDIS in an inconspicuous place and looks around. Still very wary, considering the past few weeks, he waits a moment before saying anything.
"We're here." he announces to the empty console room.
"Yes, I realize that, dear Doctor."
He won't admit to his hearts jumping in excitement at hearing the Master speak to him finally. "Are you coming?"
"Well of course I am. I'm simply making sure I'm presentable."
He still can't see him and frowns, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits. "We're going to miss it."
"Alright, fine, I'm ready."
"Out with it then, let me see."
The Master scoffs. "You have to close your eyes first."
The Doctor echoes it. "After all the things you've been pulling the past few weeks?" he asks incredulously.
"It's a surprise and I refuse to come out if you do not at least give me this."
"But-"
"Doctor."
"Oh fine." he lets out a put upon sigh. "Alright, they're closed."
The Doctor hears the Master's footsteps coming closer and it takes every ounce of restraint he has to keep his eyes closed. He hears him stop and hears a shift of a fair amount of fabric. Silk by the sound of it. "You may open your eyes now."
He obeys and takes in his appearance. He's wearing something almost identical to the collared suit he wore when they'd met on Earth for the very first time but he's added a waist length cape with a red silk lining. He knows he's staring in the best sort of way, despite all the things that have happened and he is inexplicably drawn to his mouth when he smiles, chuckling softly at the reaction.
The Doctor can't help but point. "Master, you've grown a beard!"
"Indeed I have." he smirks, obviously enjoying the reaction. The Doctor hadn't gone all out for his side of things but he knew it would be appreciated. "Might I ask who you are going as?"
"But of course." he grins, rooting around in his pockets and turning, just slightly, so that his left side can't be seen. A few short moments pass and he turns back, grinning like an idiot.
An idiot with a celery stalk pinned to his lapel.
The Master smiles then, reaching out and carefully straightening it. "Perfect." he announces, pulling a gloved hand away as the TARDIS doors swing open. The Master offers an arm. "Shall we, Doctor?"
"We shall, Master." he says, looping his arm with the other Time Lords.
And they stroll out onto London's streets, teeming with people in costume as they celebrate Halloween.
prompt: costume
words: 1300
He thinks this is his punishment for giving the Doctor a doggy bowl for a whole Year but keeps that to himself, even if the Doctor should be supremely happy that he was fed at all.
They ignore each other for the most part. The Doctor stops various places to save various peoples and planets, leaving the Master tucked away (relatively) safely in the TARDIS. The Master explores the TARDIS, grateful that the large amount of space at least keeps him from attempting to throttle the Doctor at the slightest whim and the two Time Lords lapse into an uncomfortable silence.
After a week, the Doctor, while looking for something he'd tucked away in a corridor somewhere is nearly beheaded by a flying axe set to a simple trigger mechanism. It embeds itself into the bulkhead beside him and a few colorful curses echo down the hall. He calms fairly quickly, mentally chastising himself for not paying attention and letting his guard down around the other, quite insane, Time Lord that is occupying the TARDIS. He pulls it free and its only then that he notices the sticky, red substance on the edge of the blade. Surely the Master hadn't done something so stupid as to be hurt by his own devices and limp off to die in some deeper part of the ship while hoping his best enemy would fall for the same trick, right?
It takes time, but he finds him on the floor of the kitchen, curled in the fetal position and clutching a bloody arm to his chest. He drops down immediately, trying to get him to let go so he can see how bad the damage is but of course he's being difficult. The Master's face is contorted in pain and he lets out a scream when his keeper touches the damaged arm, blood spraying all over his face and both their clothes. He tries to wrestle him to stillness and sort this out, fear gripping him tightly before he rips open the sleeve of his white button down shirt to find no wound. His mouth works soundlessly as his fingers wipe at the crimson fluid frantically, not yet realizing that the Master is shaking from laughing at his very obvious distress.
"Gotcha!" he exclaims with barely enough breath to get it out.
He smacks him with the axe handle in the shoulder as he gets up to storm out. "Quit leaving your stupid toys laying all over the place!"
The next week, he tromps into the library where the Master is reading, face obscured by the book. The smell of burnt hair wafts in and the Master crinkles his nose, lowering the book so only his eyes are visible and tries not to laugh at the sight before him. "I'm not sure which part I liked more," he starts. "The welding torch in the doorway or the power cables in the bathtub," the Doctor finishes.
The Master can't contain himself any longer and breaks into a fit of outright giggling at the sight of a sopping wet Doctor, adorned with scorch marks with his hair standing on end. His reward for that is a soaked converse smacking him in the face.
"I liked those shoes!"
And the Master only laughs harder as he stalks out.
The tricks continue, some fairly weak compared to the Master's usual thirst for pain and others well, the Doctor is seriously wondering why he ever thought that this was a good idea. He falls through a sabotaged grating, while he's trying to pilot the TARDIS, acquiring a rather nice lump for a while which the Master takes to thumping when he isn't paying attention. Salt in his tea. Explosives in his bed, after which he announces that the kitchen is also off limits to the Master. Despite all these things happening, he hasn't seen the Master in weeks and he's trying not to worry and give him the satisfaction of going to look for him. He takes to sneaking around the corridors of his own ship due to his own paranoia, even using a broom handle to open doors and cabinets in fear of something flying out at him. Despite his caution, nothing happens and he feels oddly neglected.
Finally, they arrive at their destination and he parks the TARDIS in an inconspicuous place and looks around. Still very wary, considering the past few weeks, he waits a moment before saying anything.
"We're here." he announces to the empty console room.
"Yes, I realize that, dear Doctor."
He won't admit to his hearts jumping in excitement at hearing the Master speak to him finally. "Are you coming?"
"Well of course I am. I'm simply making sure I'm presentable."
He still can't see him and frowns, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits. "We're going to miss it."
"Alright, fine, I'm ready."
"Out with it then, let me see."
The Master scoffs. "You have to close your eyes first."
The Doctor echoes it. "After all the things you've been pulling the past few weeks?" he asks incredulously.
"It's a surprise and I refuse to come out if you do not at least give me this."
"But-"
"Doctor."
"Oh fine." he lets out a put upon sigh. "Alright, they're closed."
The Doctor hears the Master's footsteps coming closer and it takes every ounce of restraint he has to keep his eyes closed. He hears him stop and hears a shift of a fair amount of fabric. Silk by the sound of it. "You may open your eyes now."
He obeys and takes in his appearance. He's wearing something almost identical to the collared suit he wore when they'd met on Earth for the very first time but he's added a waist length cape with a red silk lining. He knows he's staring in the best sort of way, despite all the things that have happened and he is inexplicably drawn to his mouth when he smiles, chuckling softly at the reaction.
The Doctor can't help but point. "Master, you've grown a beard!"
"Indeed I have." he smirks, obviously enjoying the reaction. The Doctor hadn't gone all out for his side of things but he knew it would be appreciated. "Might I ask who you are going as?"
"But of course." he grins, rooting around in his pockets and turning, just slightly, so that his left side can't be seen. A few short moments pass and he turns back, grinning like an idiot.
An idiot with a celery stalk pinned to his lapel.
The Master smiles then, reaching out and carefully straightening it. "Perfect." he announces, pulling a gloved hand away as the TARDIS doors swing open. The Master offers an arm. "Shall we, Doctor?"
"We shall, Master." he says, looping his arm with the other Time Lords.
And they stroll out onto London's streets, teeming with people in costume as they celebrate Halloween.
prompt: costume
words: 1300