(OOC: I blame you for this, cause we were talking about them earlier and yes, your fault entirely.)
The Doctor had been watching him for a while now, positioned a safe distance away but not far enough that his view could be obscured by anything other than the occasional passerby.
He's on his feet when he sees the man begin to speak the child, having absolutely no faith in that smile or that explosive. Well okay, it's more the explosive that concerns him at the moment but the smile? Oh that was something to worry about in and of itself.
"You're just going to let him walk off then," he asks. "I don't understand, you can't even enjoy it form where you are! Why send out an innocent boy like that?"
The Master sighs and leans back against a table, arms folded over his chest. "Oh, come now. You're being overdramatic. It won't hurt... well..." He tilts his head to one side, considering. "It won't hurt him. Unless he misses..."
His eyes are on the Doctor's face, with a cool, absolutely unconcerned smile. It occupied him for a while, at least, and now the sheer fact of the Doctor's anger ought to be enough to keep him entertained for at least a short time.
"Overdramatic," he questions. "Frankly, I think that's a perfectly reasonable response to seeing you give a small child anything, especially something like that."
The Doctor sighs and shakes his head. What is he thinking? This is the Master he's talking to, not anyone even remotely sane.
"You never did answer my question though. What's the point in sending him out there if you can't watch the chaos he'll create? You won't even know if he gets a chance to use it or not."
The Master snorts derisively. "Children have to learn some time..." Never mind that the thing he made wouldn't even be safe in the hands of an adult, of any human at all before a certain time period...
“Children have to learn from sensible, sane individuals and none of the learning needs to coincide with violence and especially not with things from centuries into their own futures.”
“Of course,” he replies, an exasperated sigh escaping him. “Have you considered another hobby perhaps? Painting is nice. Afterwards I’m sure the Inn would let you tear them to shreds with the screwdriver so you could vent your frustrations twice.”
"Now that seems like more trouble than it's worth," the Master says, shrugging a little. "I much prefer this, and after all, I've got such a talent for it... and you know, I'm absolutely rubbish at painting. Haven't got the patience for it."
He's got patience, of a sort, but it's the patience of a cat lying in wait for its prey. It's different.
"Only to you," he remarks with a shake of his head.
He snorts. "Of all the things you lack, and isn't that quite the list, patience isn't one of them." There's only a twinge of frustration in his voice but it's certainly there. Not that he truly expects the Master to give up his life of universe-saving insanity but....Oh, he doesn't even know anymore.
He's not in the right mind to deal with the vast majority of beings, especially the Master.
"Oh, Doctor, was that an attempt at an insult?" He lunges forward impulsively, quickly enough that it could be considered an attack, but it doesn't hit him or harm him in any way, just rest his hand on the Doctor's shoulder, fingers just brushing his neck.
No matter how often he stays here, how many times he reminds himself of the Inn's policy on violence, he will always back away when someone lunges at him the way the Master does right then.
It won't be very much though,only a step or two but it's enough to try and break the contact, he can't have that right now,, he doesn't want it.
"So it seems," he replies as he pulls his coat just a little tighter around himself. "A bit like a cat who's been de-clawed, aren't you?"
The Master's smile fades, his veneer of control snapping as he growls, grips the Doctor's coat, slams him back against the nearest table. It's not quite hard enough to hurt, so the Inn won't stop him - he's gotten good at measuring that - but hard enough to startle him, certainly.
Although he certainly startled when he's slammed against the wall (for such a thing is usually startling no matter what) he can't say that it comes as much of a surprise. It's a part of what they do really, wall-slamming, touches that are wanted but certainly not needed, it's a whole new dance to the same old tune.
At least he's got something stable though, right? Or at least the Inn lets him pretend he does.
"Not quite," he replies, closing his eyes and taking a breath. "But it was the first appropriate, cliche metaphor that crossed my mind, so I figured it worth saying."
The Master's fingers tighten just a little in the Doctor's coat, pulling the collar of it almost tight enough to choke him, if not quite, before he releases it with a growl of disgust, shoving him back roughly as he takes a step backward.
"Do try harder next time, Doctor. You're boring me."
Everything here is, because there's nothing he can do. It feels like he can hardly breathe here, in the claustrophobic confines of the Inn.
He remains perfectly still as the Master pushes him back, only opening his eyes once he hears the man begin to speak.
“Yes well, I’ll keep that in mind, although last time I checked, it wasn’t my responsibility to keep you entertained.”
Then again, considering he knows what happens when the Master does get bored, it probably should be his responsibility.
It is with this in mind that he takes a breath and steps forward. “Fine, what can I do that might peak your interest besides using tired metaphors and lecturing you on the safety precautions that should be involved with children and dangerous explosives?”
The Master snorts a little derisively and shakes his head, turning away from the Doctor and curling his hands into fists at his side. The Doctor, much as he hates to admit it, is right. Sending off children with weapons isn't going to cut it. Not when he can't do it himself, not when he can't even watch... It only adds to his frustration, makes him restless and angry.
"Oh, and you care, do you? Go on, run off. Just the way you always do."
Oh, he doesn't want to be here, he knows he shouldn't be here but when he's ordered to run, when he's actually given the chance to escape this little meeting with everything in tact, he only steps closer.
The Doctor was never good at doing what he was told.
"I care," he starts, not quite looking at the Master. "Of course it's mainly because if I don't, who knows what you'll do to entertain yourself.but the end result is the same."
The Master chuckles softly, without turning back towards the Doctor. "Of course it is. And if I assure you I'm not going to do anything, that won't help at all, will it?"
And he probably won't, for now, just because he's at a complete loss as to what to do. The satisfaction of causing destruction in some universe, some time, only lasted for a fleeting second, and now that it's gone, he feels more lost than ever.
The Doctor had been watching him for a while now, positioned a safe distance away but not far enough that his view could be obscured by anything other than the occasional passerby.
He's on his feet when he sees the man begin to speak the child, having absolutely no faith in that smile or that explosive. Well okay, it's more the explosive that concerns him at the moment but the smile? Oh that was something to worry about in and of itself.
"You're just going to let him walk off then," he asks. "I don't understand, you can't even enjoy it form where you are! Why send out an innocent boy like that?"
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His eyes are on the Doctor's face, with a cool, absolutely unconcerned smile. It occupied him for a while, at least, and now the sheer fact of the Doctor's anger ought to be enough to keep him entertained for at least a short time.
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The Doctor sighs and shakes his head. What is he thinking? This is the Master he's talking to, not anyone even remotely sane.
"You never did answer my question though. What's the point in sending him out there if you can't watch the chaos he'll create? You won't even know if he gets a chance to use it or not."
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"To tell the truth, mostly I was just bored."
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“Of course,” he replies, an exasperated sigh escaping him. “Have you considered another hobby perhaps? Painting is nice. Afterwards I’m sure the Inn would let you tear them to shreds with the screwdriver so you could vent your frustrations twice.”
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He's got patience, of a sort, but it's the patience of a cat lying in wait for its prey. It's different.
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He snorts. "Of all the things you lack, and isn't that quite the list, patience isn't one of them." There's only a twinge of frustration in his voice but it's certainly there. Not that he truly expects the Master to give up his life of universe-saving insanity but....Oh, he doesn't even know anymore.
He's not in the right mind to deal with the vast majority of beings, especially the Master.
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"It rather lacked punch, don't you think?"
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It won't be very much though,only a step or two but it's enough to try and break the contact, he can't have that right now,, he doesn't want it.
"So it seems," he replies as he pulls his coat just a little tighter around himself. "A bit like a cat who's been de-clawed, aren't you?"
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"Is that what you'd call it? Really?"
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At least he's got something stable though, right? Or at least the Inn lets him pretend he does.
"Not quite," he replies, closing his eyes and taking a breath. "But it was the first appropriate, cliche metaphor that crossed my mind, so I figured it worth saying."
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"Do try harder next time, Doctor. You're boring me."
Everything here is, because there's nothing he can do. It feels like he can hardly breathe here, in the claustrophobic confines of the Inn.
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“Yes well, I’ll keep that in mind, although last time I checked, it wasn’t my responsibility to keep you entertained.”
Then again, considering he knows what happens when the Master does get bored, it probably should be his responsibility.
It is with this in mind that he takes a breath and steps forward. “Fine, what can I do that might peak your interest besides using tired metaphors and lecturing you on the safety precautions that should be involved with children and dangerous explosives?”
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"Oh, and you care, do you? Go on, run off. Just the way you always do."
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The Doctor was never good at doing what he was told.
"I care," he starts, not quite looking at the Master. "Of course it's mainly because if I don't, who knows what you'll do to entertain yourself.but the end result is the same."
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And he probably won't, for now, just because he's at a complete loss as to what to do. The satisfaction of causing destruction in some universe, some time, only lasted for a fleeting second, and now that it's gone, he feels more lost than ever.
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