Log - Open

[soundof_drums]

Who: The Master, Bartleby, Rose Tyler, Daniel Jackson, the Fourth Doctor, OPEN.
Where: The Infirmary
When: After this, this, and Bartleby's request to the Admiral.
Warnings: Doubtful.

Comments

Aziraphale, closed

[still_ineffable]

Aziraphale waited, hovering in the corner (worriedly and literally - about half an inch off the ground, in fact, although he didn't notice). He seemed to have generated quite the little crowd of well-wishers, although the extent to which they were actually wishing well seemed...variable. The angel himself didn't really need to be here, he supposed, but he felt somewhat responsible for this person after finding the body and, well. It wouldn't hurt to take five minutes and make sure he was alright.

A lull in proceedings emerged. He floated towards the bed, realised what he was doing and landed guiltily.

"Mr. Master. It's good to see you....not dead," he concluded, rather lamely.

[soundof_drums]

The Master watched the strange man, taking note of the levitation, his expression one of great interest. "Hm?" He smiled in a parody of kindness. "Yes, I quite agree."

[still_ineffable]

"I'm sure somebody's told you about the circumstances of your, ah, passing," Aziraphale said. "I brought you here from the library. I just wanted to see that you were all right before I left...I've read a little about this Death Toll business, it all sounds highly unpleasant."

[soundof_drums]

"All by yourself?" he questioned, eyebrow raised. "My, how thoughtful." Then, he shrugged, leaning back against his pillow. "It is, that. But one becomes accustomed to such things where I'm from."

[still_ineffable]

Alright, well, he was a little curious. And if this Master was going to make leading remarks then Aziraphale felt bound to follow them. "And where are you from?" he asked.

[soundof_drums]

"A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away," he answered, smiling broadly, before smacking his forehead as though he'd just realised something terribly important. "Oh, wait, that's Star Wars." Not that it wasn't somewhat fitting, of course. The Master shrugged his shoulders slightly and looked at Aziraphale, his expression a touch more serious. "Gallifrey. Don't bother looking it up on any charts; it existence has long been erased."

[still_ineffable]

Aziraphale regarded him with a politely blank look; most pop culture post-1960 had completely passed him by and bestselling movie franchises were no exception, save the odd glimpse at a billboard or bus shelter ad. He made a mental note to look it up anyway.

"I won't, then, Mr. Master. By the by, I took the small liberty of..." He nodded towards the man's white gown, which he was starting to realise was a little too large for him. There was something about him, possibly not something physical, that seemed bigger. "I can restore your suit if you'd like, but it was rather...bloody, when I found you."

[soundof_drums]

Ah, Mr. Master. Reminded him of his children. What he wouldn't give to have just one of those scamps aboard the Barge. It could certainly make things more... interesting.

"So I see," he remarked, tugging at the gown with exasperation. He frowned a little at the mention of his suit, then shook his head. "I have more than enough suits. Still, I would prefer something more dignified. This is hardly suitable at all." But what? He didn't fancy the idea of wearing restrictive clothing while he was trying to recover. Hmm, perhaps some silk pyjamas would do the trick.

"Oh, but where is my head right now?" He shot Aziraphale a charming smile. "I'm afraid you know my name, but I don't know yours. Please, introduce yourself."

[still_ineffable]

"Ah - yes - manners - I do apologise. Honestly, I wouldn't have known your name if your doppelgänger hadn't informed me." He rubbed the bridge of his nose lightly. "My name is Aziraphale. I'm a new warden here. Do let me know if you have a request," he added, referring to the Master's current state of dress.

[soundof_drums]

"Mm. He is sooo helpful," the Master murmured disinterestedly, waving a dismissive hand. "Aziraphale... A pleasure," he said, giving the warden a nod. "Well, I have a set of pyjamas in my quarters-- silk, lovely shade of burgundy; it was a Christmas present from the mother-in-law. Would you be so kind as to fetch them?"

[still_ineffable]

"Hm? Of course." Aziraphale blinked, shifted his focus for a moment and then manifested them on the patient's body, the white gown vanishing without trace. Having hauled a bloody corpse, by hand, from one floor to another he felt he had a couple of points to spend in the 'divine acts' department.

"Oh, they are nice," he said mildly. "Although I'm not sure if red's your colour."

[soundof_drums]

Curious. The Master lifted his arm, observing the new outfit adorning his person. "No," he mused. "I much prefer black. Well, live and learn-- ohhh, how insensitive. She's in no position to do that anymore." He shrugged, made a face as though to say 'Oh well, what can you do?' and smoothed down the fabric. "That was quite a fascinating trick. What else can you do?"

[still_ineffable]

"Oh, er, you know. Various things," Aziraphale said, groping for an appropriate air of vagueness. The Commandments had been passed down to humans, of course, and technically didn't apply to higher beings but nevertheless he didn't like to lie. He compensated with a truth he could have omitted: "I'm an angel, it would be a little silly if I was entirely without power."

[soundof_drums]

"An angel, hm? Quite like my Warden, then." This could prove to be illuminating, to say the least. Of course, the Master never believed in angels, but he supposed that certain beings could certainly resemble the fictional creatures. "Bartleby. Are you two acquainted with each other?"

[still_ineffable]

"We've spoken briefly, although not yet in person," Aziraphale said. Honestly, he kept getting hung up on Bartleby remarking that he and Gabriel weren't exactly exemplary angelic stock and he just wanted to know what that meant. "How do the two of you get along?"

[soundof_drums]

"Oh, well," he waved a dismissive hand. "He's fascinating, a welcome break from the Doctor, but... Well. You understand the nature of most Warden-Inmate relationships is rather antagonistic. Let's just say, we'll never have each other over for tea."