The Doctor liked to think that it was his brilliance which was his saving grace, but no, it was pure unadulterated luck. That was the only reason he was still looked the way he did. He'd thought that maybe it was because he'd had some time to prepare for the regeneration, to put his mind in order about the change, but even accounting for that, he'd never had the level of control over the process that Romana and many other Time Lords had. But at the right moment, something happened, something clicked, and he'd held on to what he wanted.
It had made him ill for days afterward. And he'd crashed the TARDIS. And he was still limping her from place to place, cobbling together replacement parts. Tiny little things, neutron polarizers, but they made for a much smoother dematerialization.
He rounded the corner, feeling his hearts skip a beat when he saw a too-familiar face, and no, he couldn't possibly be hallucinating because hallucinations might smell like that but they didn't exhibit telepathic shielding responses. Oh boy.
He knew he must've stood there for a couple of seconds just gawking, before he tilted his head to one side and said the first words that made it all the way to verbal expression. "Aren't you dead?"
Ah yes, just the thing to complete the mundane zoo-feel of this place. A moron gawking at him. A very familiar and very annoying moron he'd hoped not to run into, none the less.
"Evidentially not," Was the Master only response, giving the Doctor a rather tired look. Some things in the world were hard, like breaking a time-lock, creating your own race of super beings that don't rebel on you and unlocking true empirical knowledge in this world. Harder still, shaking your ex-best friend and oldest rival.
It was damn near impossible to escape the man. He was everywhere! Literally.
Then again, he might of known that the Doctor would show up here. It was his kind of place - childish, infected with humans and everyone was grinning like an idiot. It screamed 'Doctor'. All that was missing was the end of the world.
Which tended to happen when they met up, which was quite unfortunate really.
"Are you going to stand there staring or move aside? I'm attempting to jettison myself away from this hell hole and you're blocking the way to the emergency escape. Do step aside, yes?" Either that or he'd be stuck here and have to endure the apparent parade that was happening.
"Only you would call Carnival a hell hole," the Doctor said flatly. "The real fun's a few levels up, if that suits your appetite better. Just be prepared to be carded and scanned at the door." No large gathering of humans was complete without strong drink and sexual activity, and Carnival was no exception, being a descendant festival of Bacchanalia. He'd thought about it himself, spending a few anonymous hours under the star-dome, but in the end, he knew it wouldn't cure what ailed him.
He watched the Master again for a few more seconds, then asked, "How did you do it?" Time-locks were supposed to be impossible to break, though after the debacle with Rassilon, the Doctor was beginning to doubt his faith in that word. 'Impossible' just didn't mean what it used to anymore.
"I'd prefer just to get away from the merriment, drinking with humans? I'd have to be drunk to even except their company," the Master mocked, finding the very idea of being around them repulsive. Humans make good slaves, expendable soldiers and handy guinea pigs. They do not make good company.
"You said it yourself, I'm brilliant," The Master wasn't about to stand here and explain the highly complex and time consuming plan he'd had to break out of the time lock. So things were best left unsaid, for now he liked the mystery, it made him seem cooler.
"Now move," The Master remarked, shoving his way past the Doctor and offering him a small smirk, as if challenging him to come and follow him.
"Well, you are brilliant," the Doctor replied, turning on his heel as the Master moved past and following him down the corridor. "Couldn't possibly think you weren't, after all the things you've done." And he'd done so much. Some of it could even qualify for the adjective 'noble'. And on that topic, there remained a matter of honor yet unsettled. "Speaking of, thank you very much," he continued, taking longer steps so he could catch up to the other Time Lord. "You saved my life. I can't even begin to say how much I appreciate that."
It was awkward, expressing gratitude to the Master, but on the other hand, it was the right thing to do. The other Time Lord could've killed him, or let Rassilon kill him, or let him be the one to get locked away with the Time Lords, but he didn't. That was worthy of a few words of acknowledgement.
"I didn't 'save your life', I was getting my own back and you were in the way. I had to get you from the firing lining or you might of blocked a fatal attack," the Master ranted, obviously unimpressed at being called any sort of hero. Though he was admittedly twisting the truth a fair bit, he did save the Doctor, a final way of showing there were no hard feelings. Years of following the drums and for nothing, he should of just accepted help.
But he never would, he couldn't. His pride would never let him.
"I don't hear them any more," the Master said suddenly, shoving his hands in his pocket as he strolled beside the Doctor. He still wasn't used to it, silence for the first time in 900 years... it was taking some adjusting, that was no lie.
"That's a good thing," the Doctor replied. "Must be strange for you, though." He couldn't even begin to imagine what a time his boyhood friend was having adjusting to the silence, the lack. Well, no, he could imagine what it might be like. But the Master had that silence -- the absence of the rest of the Time Lords in the Gallifreyan Collective Mind -- as well. So maybe he really couldn't.
"And the energy destabilization?" he asked. "You don't seem to be burning up from the inside out."
"If you say so," It wasn't a good thing for him, sure it was a relief to be able to hear himself think but losing something he'd had for so long was no as reassuring. The world was quieter than he remembered it, there was little to fill the void that the drums left.
"I had a long time to work at it," he explained with a small smile, being stuck in a time lock gave him plenty of free time, in between his escape plans of course.
"Course, just because I saved you and can no longer hear that racket, doesn't mean I'm about to be-friend you."
"And here I was hoping that you'd listen to reason this time and we'd come to some sort of arrangement that would be to our mutual benefit, considering that we are the last two Time Lords in the universe," the Doctor lamented, strolling on along at his usual long-leggedy gait. "Seriously, Master, you can't tell me you're not at least tempted by the offer. Use of the Tardis, time and space at your command, and all I ask is that you don't conquer, enslave, or otherwise lay waste to planets that are being otherwise utilized."
The Master gave the Doctor a look of disbelief before rolling his eyes. Really, they went through this every time, it had become almost mandatory. "It all sounds good until I realise that I'd have you there, nagging and whining and grinning like a idiot."
None of which were appealing, he wasn't Koschei anymore, even if sometimes he wished he was. He could just go running after Theta with no qualms over it. He had his own life and ideals, he wanted things that the Doctor would never allow him to have. Why should he be made to watch when he could do so much more?
It had made him ill for days afterward. And he'd crashed the TARDIS. And he was still limping her from place to place, cobbling together replacement parts. Tiny little things, neutron polarizers, but they made for a much smoother dematerialization.
He rounded the corner, feeling his hearts skip a beat when he saw a too-familiar face, and no, he couldn't possibly be hallucinating because hallucinations might smell like that but they didn't exhibit telepathic shielding responses. Oh boy.
He knew he must've stood there for a couple of seconds just gawking, before he tilted his head to one side and said the first words that made it all the way to verbal expression. "Aren't you dead?"
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"Evidentially not," Was the Master only response, giving the Doctor a rather tired look. Some things in the world were hard, like breaking a time-lock, creating your own race of super beings that don't rebel on you and unlocking true empirical knowledge in this world. Harder still, shaking your ex-best friend and oldest rival.
It was damn near impossible to escape the man. He was everywhere! Literally.
Then again, he might of known that the Doctor would show up here. It was his kind of place - childish, infected with humans and everyone was grinning like an idiot. It screamed 'Doctor'. All that was missing was the end of the world.
Which tended to happen when they met up, which was quite unfortunate really.
"Are you going to stand there staring or move aside? I'm attempting to jettison myself away from this hell hole and you're blocking the way to the emergency escape. Do step aside, yes?" Either that or he'd be stuck here and have to endure the apparent parade that was happening.
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He watched the Master again for a few more seconds, then asked, "How did you do it?" Time-locks were supposed to be impossible to break, though after the debacle with Rassilon, the Doctor was beginning to doubt his faith in that word. 'Impossible' just didn't mean what it used to anymore.
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"You said it yourself, I'm brilliant," The Master wasn't about to stand here and explain the highly complex and time consuming plan he'd had to break out of the time lock. So things were best left unsaid, for now he liked the mystery, it made him seem cooler.
"Now move," The Master remarked, shoving his way past the Doctor and offering him a small smirk, as if challenging him to come and follow him.
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It was awkward, expressing gratitude to the Master, but on the other hand, it was the right thing to do. The other Time Lord could've killed him, or let Rassilon kill him, or let him be the one to get locked away with the Time Lords, but he didn't. That was worthy of a few words of acknowledgement.
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But he never would, he couldn't. His pride would never let him.
"I don't hear them any more," the Master said suddenly, shoving his hands in his pocket as he strolled beside the Doctor. He still wasn't used to it, silence for the first time in 900 years... it was taking some adjusting, that was no lie.
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"And the energy destabilization?" he asked. "You don't seem to be burning up from the inside out."
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"I had a long time to work at it," he explained with a small smile, being stuck in a time lock gave him plenty of free time, in between his escape plans of course.
"Course, just because I saved you and can no longer hear that racket, doesn't mean I'm about to be-friend you."
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None of which were appealing, he wasn't Koschei anymore, even if sometimes he wished he was. He could just go running after Theta with no qualms over it. He had his own life and ideals, he wanted things that the Doctor would never allow him to have. Why should he be made to watch when he could do so much more?
"No deal, I'm afraid."
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