The Seventh Match

[realitymods]

Characters: Gene, Diva, Spectators
Location: The Coliseum.
Time: Two days after the last fights.
Summary: The seventh of the death matches.
Warnings: Character death warning.

Comments

[bit_impossible]

He'd been avoiding the matches for some time; call him mad, but watching people he knew and haven't met yet die for no reason other than to satisfy some sick game just wasn't his cup of tea. Not when he knew there was nothing he could do to immediately stop everything. He couldn't stop Oliver from dying, after all. Between his initial conversation with Weber and the letter from Shay, he couldn't help this feeling that things just weren't lining up. There had to be something he'd overlooked so far, but what?

That was how he turned up today, of all days. He didn't know the two combatants, though one instantly set off a latent warning bell in his mind, one that said, "That's a vampire; do your duty, Time Lord," but since he was always the obstinate type when it came to such things, he simply chose to ignore it and continued on his way to the Emperor's box. Neither of them had to die today.

But it seemed he'd been beaten there. His ninth self was there with coffee of all things, but he decided, that he'd leave things in the hands of the other Doctor. After all, he was still far away enough from the Emperor's box that perhaps he'd stay there and observe the exchange for a bit.

The last thing he expected was to see what he saw next. It was very surreal to watch his previous self run through like that. He had been that man not too long ago--well, not exactly the same one, no, not from their varied travels during that particular incarnation--and couldn't help gasping when the sword went in. A hand involuntarily flew to his chest before he realised he was just being ridiculous and removed it.

He was on his feet stalking over to the box before he even realised it, and knew there was no turning back. He knew that any time he faced down his enemies, and he didn't know where he stood with Weber--the other man, at least, was easier. Anger coursed through his system, but he'd seen what happened and knew not to make the same mistake, so he kept his expression neutral, forced it to be. He had to stay calm.

And so, he finally arrived at the box, hands out of his pockets, no devices visible in his grasp. Just him and his masked fury. No doubt his approach had been noticed, but just in case, he gave a single knock and waited.

[realitymods]

The Doctor sparked an immediate fight between the two hosts.

"No," said the liar. "I will not allow him in just for you to kill him. It would be another pointless death."

"Is that not your speciality?"

"My hands are less stained than your own, my liege."

"With such seas of blood to your name, my liar, I feel there is little distinction to be made. But as you like." The king looked over at the Doctor, callous and cold. It was a bit of a change from the man who had so enjoyed his chocolate confections. "Doctor, my liar would have you stay out of reach for your own safety. One of his little hypocrisies, you understand. It seems that I must defer to his judgement and not allow you in."

[bit_impossible]

He might have allowed himself a little smile for the small amount of discord between the two men just then. Not too bad; he didn't say a single word and his mere presence earned that reaction.

"Oh, that's fine by me," he replied rather flippantly. All the easier to keep his anger in check. "You actually just answered one of my questions and I'm more than happy to remain out here for the time being. All the better to avoid your sword arm, your majesty."

And he had the cheek to bow with a flourish, being mindful to take a step away in case the barrier was brought down.

[realitymods]

The king looked at the Doctor for a moment, as if reading him. A slight smile crossed over his face. "If that's all?"

[bit_impossible]

Any hint of a smile was gone in that instant. "Ohhh, that's not all. I did say one of my questions, didn't I? I do remember saying that just now," he said, leaning an arm up against the barrier for a moment while he scratched the back of his neck.

"But I do like knowing the name of the man I'm speaking to. I know the name of your liar's already, or rather the one he's seen fit to give me. Isn't that right, Weber? You know, I do wonder what the 'c' stands for."

[realitymods]

Without missing a beat, though he knew what would follow on his announcement, Weber said, "Caleb."

The king laughed, uproarious, inspiring the liar to give him a cold smile. Still grinning, the king inclined his head. "Are a thousand and one layers of deceit enough to make you honest?"

"Each layer, my liege, keeps away unwanted fingertips." Weber's own fingers strayed idly to his cravat. "But it is as I told you, Doctor. Those without homes have no names."

[bit_impossible]

"How about 'Bob' then?" he suggested, also not missing a beat. He'd only asked to test Weber's original answer. Ah well. "No, no, no, you're a king of some kind, so perhaps 'Robert' would suit you better." In another life, that 'r' would have been sent rolling for ages. "Hmm, I think I'll still call you Bob though.

"So! King Bob and his cravat-wearing liar named Caleb. What does one to do still be a king and yet have no home? Evicted were you?"

[realitymods]

"I still have one subject left to me, and despite his treachery, he chooses to observe the formalities. As for my home... it is lost to me for ever."

"Something the Doctor can empathize with," Weber said. They didn't have to look at each other, but some quiet communication crossed between them, the tapping of a finger, the slight curve of a smile. "We are many universes away from it now."

[bit_impossible]

Something flickered across his expression when he heard that; a look of sympathy, perhaps? Another lost home... Though surely it can't have been lost in the same manner?

"Never mind what I can empathise with," he said, poking a finger in Weber's direction. He winced very slightly when it met the barrier a little too soon. He was quickly growing tired of Weber's knowledge about him when he had so very little about the two men himself. Certainly didn't like being on that side of the equation, and the first thing he'd done once this was all done was find that repository of knowledge and destroy it.

"You said your home was lost, but define what you mean by the word. Does that mean it was destroyed and the pair of you are the only survivors? Or were you exiled for one reason or another and, for better or worse, you were stuck together? Or was it simply plucked out of existence, right out from under your nose, and you woke up to find yourself in a void where your world once stood? Do feel free to stop me; I could go on for hours."

[realitymods]

"I don't know," said Weber, looking at his king. "What do you think, your majesty? I find it a bit entertaining to watch him guess."

"You also have no desire to tell him what happened."

The liar paused. He smiled, shut his eyes, and slowly shook his head. "Quite right, my king. I wouldn't want to make a story of my own sins." He opened his eyes, arrogant again, and leant back in his chair. "But those aren't the questions you really need to be asking, are they?"

[bit_impossible]

"Oh, you know how it is. A bit of chitchat before getting to business," he said casually, keeping the annoyance out of his voice. In an instant, his expression became serious before he continued.

"I would say that I'm here to put a stop to this entire mess, but you made it very clear that it's not possible." Not yet, he thought. "But the thing is, all things are possible. If you've read about me, if you think you know me so well, then you know I never give up, not even when I've exhausted all the possibilities--and there are still some to explore. Ohhh yes.

"So! Question one: What do you stand to gain from these deaths?"

[realitymods]

"No, I didn't." The liar watched the Doctor carefully, apparently paying no mind to the movements of his moods. "I never said it was impossible."

[bit_impossible]

A glint appeared in his eye as he listened to Weber's reply. "Oh? How very interesting. Do enlighten me, o'cravat wearer. And don't think I've forgotten about my question. I still expect an answer."

[realitymods]

It was the king who replied. "If we could tell you, we would. I gain nothing from these games and would end them if only to-" He cut himself off, frowning.

Weber pinched the bridge of my nose. "Oh, my liege. You really must stop making such promises."

"I promised nothing."

"But you wanted to, I've no doubt. And I don't think that's true. You call me a liar, but you just lied to me. Remember, they have records here of everything."

The king folded his arms, clearly not pleased with the sudden direction of the conversation. "It was true when I said it."

"And yet you didn't spare her from her tears." And then the liar stopped. "I can see three moves ahead and I don't like where this round is going. End it?"

"Agreed," said the king. As one, both hosts returned attention to the Doctor. "These fights are our obligation, not our profit."

[bit_impossible]

He heard what they said, processed it, but the first thing out of his mouth was, "No!" followed by him slapping both hands to the barrier. "Don't end it yet. Leave them be for now! Keep talking to me."

He spared them a glance, arching an eyebrow slightly at what appeared to be a picnic, before returning his attentions to the strange pair. "Let them enjoy their drink. You want to stop things as much as I do. Please!"

[realitymods]

They hosts exchanged a bemused glance before looking back at the Doctor. The liar said, "That isn't what I meant."

"We do not interfere in the fights," said the king. "We are only hosts, not masters of puppets."

"Though we do both do very well given a marionette. Such fun, Italy 1693, do you recall? Anyway, Doctor, don't worry yourself over us interfering. We can't. They have whatever time the hourglass gives them."