[The Master does not exactly look as if he's in the best of states. His normally immacuate shirt is stained with blood, a smear of it dried on his cheek. But it isn't his. His eyes are tired and he looks clearly worn down, exhausted.
Defeated.
Even his voice is hoarse when he speaks.]A public service announcement to whoever is friends with the
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Lord Saxon.... My condolences. What may I do to help you?
[And then the rest of his words sink in, and her gaze hardens for a moment.]
Should anyone be so callous as to blame you for this, I shall have words with them.
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[He rubs at his eyes, looking utterly deflated.]
Thank you for the concern. To answer your question, there isn't much that can be done. All I have to do is wait.
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I will respectfully disagree. There is much that can be done. To wait is only a part of it.
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What else, then, is there?
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Are you at home, Lord Saxon? You and the Doctor?
[She will not, will not refer to the man as a body. Not when he'll come back. Not when it might upset Lord Saxon further.]
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Yes, we're at home.
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I shall pray for all of us, then.
Would you mind company? I will help you to clean, and to tend what needs tending.
[Unlike with Lady Raphael, here, Juliet can do something for her friends. If he allows her to. Even if he doesn't, there are measures she can take.]
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You would come by even if I said no, wouldn't you, Juliet?
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[In other words, "yes." And that slight movement of the picture is her rising to get her cloak.]
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It's fine, then. I will get the two of us cleaned up a little before you get here.
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[She gives him a smile as she ends the feed and gathers a few things into her usual carrying basket. It isn't long before she's knocking on the door, only slightly out of breath, bundled up in her cloak.]
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Juliet. Apologies, I've yet to clean up myself.
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[She looks over the shirt carefully. He hasn't acted injured at all, but....]
Have you any wounds which need dressing?
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