x06 [Location: streets of Central][Open to Toby]

[beholdthedrums]

The Master was in need of getting out of the Sanctuary, certainly after he all but tore apart his "living quarters." But those were more of his experimental space rather than a place he'd call as his temporary home. After all this time, he wasn't about to settle in. He didn't do that. He had the same opinion as the Doctor when it came to domestics

Comments

[notcursed]

When Toby needs to think, he walks. It's become a habit, perpetuated by living downtown, cruising around in the ambulance - where thinking is best done outside of a cramped space, where there are distractions if needed.

It's not long before Toby is close enough to hear the drumming. It's faint, and at first he can't be sure whether he's hearing it in the air or in his head. Curious, cautious, he keeps walking, getting closer and closer to the source...

[beholdthedrums]

((Any string of italics are thoughts Toby can pick up through the drumming~))

The Master hadn't much moved from his location, folding his arms on what looked similar to a postal box and continuing to tap along the metal. He had already made one precaution with Astrid before the Doctor had arrived, but he didn't have enough of those. He needed more. More traps, more twists.

Occasionally it felt like there was never enough time for a Time Lord. He grits his teeth. This country is sick, he remembers himself saying about Britain when he was Prime Minister - blur of an image filters in, vaguely distorted, of him with his arm around Lucy, standing before a crowd. It ripples away. This city is just as bad.

The Master huffs. Oh Taxon, what was he going to do with you?

[notcursed]

((excellente~))

He's still not sure about the drumming, but there are thoughts, surprisingly sharp, and some images begin floating into the back of his mind. They're not clear, not at all, as thoughts never are. He slows, distracted, looking for a person or a source, but it could be anyone around, inside, anywhere...

Toby is curious, of course, and the thought occurs to him more than once that he should start blocking. Because these thoughts feel... weird, different, like that Doctor's thoughts had. And curiosity had given him a scare and a headache that day.

Regardless, somebody never learns, apparently. He's even closer now, approaching, the connection open a crack.

What he does notice is that the drumming just keeps getting louder.

[beholdthedrums]

Even the simplest crack of a connection is warning enough to jar the Master's mind. If the drumming had a physical form they would be twisting away for a moment before unleashing an attack on their intruder.

Outside of his mind, the Master has drawn himself up in a very still form, arms tightly at his side as he looks around him for the little weasel of a troublemaker who even dared to trip into the wrong mind.

The Master doesn't even think that he's also partially at fault here. He'd been distracted enough that his mind actually slipped open and was broadcasting. No, that sort of slip-up was uncharacteristic enough that he would never admit to it.