x01 [holo]

[beholdthedrums]

With a slightly shaky arrival, the Master stumbles down the ramp, deep thought creasing over his face. This was certainly not the Valiant; he knew every corner of that ship. He pats himself down, specifically checking around his upper chest and glancing over it in surprise after his hands come up clean: no bullet wound, but dried blood within the

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[who_never_would]

When the Doctor's device chirps a new arrival, he doesn't give it much mind. It does that from time to time, he's got it set up to do so. A little jiggery-pokery and the communicator had obliged rather nicely - a small triumph in a land of computers that simply refused to respond to any of his demands. It wasn't as if they actively refused either, it was the unresponsive nature of well, everything that drove him a bit mad. Idly, he reaches over and picks up the little device resting on the console, gazing down at the screen. Scanning through hourly traffic in the area, the Doctor sits up slowly from his sprawl

[beholdthedrums]

Indestructible was always a good sign that someone was hiding something from him, and now it was the tablet's design that was causing the Master large amounts of frustration. This place was making him increasingly uneasy, though he was doing best not to show it.

He presses a hand against his head, staring at the object dully, flipping it back over and popping it open to pay its features some notice. While he disliked the wristlet, still, he had figured out it's basic settings and turned off the so-called 'holo' feature. That was unpleasant enough already.

Handy little options, map of the city - Taxon, apparently (something he had never heard of, shockingly enough) - and... that can't be quite right. His eyes scan the screen quickly, swearing that he saw 'the Doctor' on a part of it. It... wasn't exactly a surprise, no. In that corner of his mind reserved for Time Lords, he knew that the Doctor was around somewhere, he just had been assuming (hoping) that he wasn't in this particular city

[who_never_would]

Moving quickly through the newly arrived crowds of people - and he still isn't used to those yet, to be sure, the Doctor continues makes his way towards the Sanctuary. If he can sense the Master, then the Master can sense him, and there's no sense in being visible to your enemy unless you absolutely have to be. Taking a deep breath as he pauses outside the doors to the building, the Doctor swallows down the sick weight of dread rising in his chest, fingers curling in and out on themselves. Taking a few seconds to gain some sort of composure, the Doctor then pulls open the door, straightens down his suit and walks forward into the Sanctuary

[beholdthedrums]

Ah, just as expected, the Doctor has found him and the Master can't help but shake his head and chuckle. He turns to face the other, still showing an amusement that he didn't feel so much, even when he almost instantly notices the Doctor's differences. That's... very intriguing. Now he truly wonders how long it's been and all the things he's missed out on - especially this change.

The Master chuckles again, but it's harder now to keep the sneer off his face. "Oh really? And here I was beginning to think that you missed me so much that you had to resurrect me into this quaint city." Whether he means it or not, it's hard to tell. "What, with how broken up you were while I died in your arms," he adds after a moment, strolling casually towards the Doctor. He still keeps a fair distance away from him, circling around to the side.

He then makes a point in searching around where the Doctor came from, expecting a member of the fan club to rush in. While it's possible the Doctor told whoever was with him to stay behind, companions never

[who_never_would]

No gaggle of fans. No companions dashing in after him. No one, actually. The Doctor has come completely alone. Hands still in his pockets, the Doctor does not move when the Master circles him, following him only with his eyes and turning only to face the other Time Lord when his peripheral vision ends

[beholdthedrums]

((FYI, you’re my hero. Even if the Master is ticked. *rushes back to work now*))

He watches the Doctor with a neutral expression while he speaks, but internally anger boils through his system. He has of course gotten more information out of the Doctor than anyone, just as he wanted - about Taxon and the Doctor - but at what cost? Infuriation at its max? The insistent need to rip apart the Doctor and scatter him across the city grows as the drumming loudly urges him.

The Master’s gaze hardens. He had expected more than just a moment of sadness from the Doctor regarding his companions; expected him to fall apart and barely continue to hold himself. Not whatever the hell… this was. When he responds, however, he keeps his voice as level as possible, “Dearest Lucy? Haven’t the faintest of clues. Probably playing the role of the poor damsel who’s lost her Prime Minister husband.” His brows crease. “But then, you say it’s been ‘quite some time’ since then, hm? Really, Doctor, just how long has it been?” his finishing words across quiet and

[who_never_would]

Catching the bag in midair - because he's awesome like that - the Doctor tucks away the jelly babies with a shrug of his suit coat. For whatever reason, the bag isn't making the faintest of wrinkles or lumps in the coat. How odd. The Doctor is tired. The Master's frustration is entirely expected, so when he sees the wrath boiling underneath the man's steely words, he just leans up against a support pylon in the Sanctuary and fishes out an individual candy to chew on while the Master talks at him. He makes a face. Lemon. "That Lucy of yours is a snake in a red dress, Master, and you and I both know it. You wouldn't have chosen a companion who wasn't a match for you, even if it was just to use her. You'd get too bored too quickly with some ordinary, normal human girl." He inspects his fingernails, pulls out another jelly baby - strawberry, this one - and munches on it.

"It's probably been something like four hundred years since the Valiant, maybe more, maybe a little less," replies the Doctor honestly, because why would he have any

[beholdthedrums]

He continues to sidestep the majority of what the Doctor says. Often times the Master has learned that this was the best course of action for any occasion when the Doctor opens his mouth, even if currently he simply didn’t want to acknowledge the words. At all. “Why Doctor,” he rumbles lowly, sidling closer towards the other Time Lord, “are you saying that I’m a snake in a red dress?”

Lucy. Lucy. Oh, she had such potential! Why did she have to slowly wither over time? A rose petal plucked from the source, still bleeding red but becoming so frail. He had high hopes for her, he did! She may have given him a ‘win’ over the Doctor, but if he saw her again, he might just have to ‘repay the favor.’ It’s only fairAnd then the Master is silently watching the Doctor, ever the observant one. Reading his lines, his features. Yes, this Doctor has changed. For just a fraction of a second he relishes it, then he straightens and suddenly, with only the sound of him clapping the drumbeat against a leg, he walks passed the Doctor towards the exit.

oo, been awhile since anyone's seen *this* icon. :D

[who_never_would]

The Doctor watches the Master and smirks as he sidles forward, retorting easily, "She looked better in it than you ever will, but I suppose if you really, really wanted to, a little bit of eyeliner and wig might suffice." And then the Doctor does something a little curious, he leans forward, testing the Master's boundaries, voice low and breathy. "I dunno, I'm not sure a dress would suit that arse of yours." The words leave his throat in sort of a growl, but the Doctor's eyes are full of wicked humor. The Doctor doesn't move in any closer, doesn't fully quite invade the Master's space, but it might be fun to see him squirm just that little bit, so he leans in a little more, whispering next to his ear, "But I'm sure, maybe a little corset and a riding crop?" He doesn't mean a word of it either. He hopes.

And all of that amusement drains out of him again, leaving him cold again as the Master brushes past him. "People fear me now," he snarls, actually pursuing the man, taking steps after him. No one interrupts him. Especially when he's

Re: oo, been awhile since anyone's seen *this* icon. :D

[beholdthedrums]

Bloody hell, he sometimes forgot just how good the Doctor was at running - not just away from trouble, but after it. Wonderful. Just great. The Master cuts a corner, wishing he could've gotten a bit more familiarized with the city before this little chase scene had to go down. He hated not having the upper hand in a situation! How long had the Doctor even been in Taxon?

The Master grits his teeth, taking in the path ahead of him carefully, and then turning back towards the Doctor, backpedaling quickly. "Oh sure. Because the universe really wouldn't somehow keep surviving without the Doctor! I bet the human race didn't make it to the end of the universe because you were there every, single time picking them up from their filthy ruin!"

He pauses temporarily, knowing that he was about out of space to keep backing up. Wall behind him - building of sort. Left and right paths... which would be better, hm?

With a sneer, he crosses his arms and continues, "I don't need you, of all the bleedin' people in the universe. I don't need anyone.

[who_never_would]

Running is something the Doctor does incredibly well, what with an advanced respiratory system and those rather long legs. Keeping up with the slightly shorter Master is no object to him, so when the other Time Lord comes screeching to a halt, it takes all of the tread on the bottom of the Doctor's Chuck Taylors to keep him from outright colliding with his prey. Strangely enough, they've come pelting into a part of the city the Doctor's not that familiar with, though he does know that the way the Master is heading dead ends into another alleyway much like the one they're standing in. He settles back onto his heels, tucking his hands into his pockets as the Master rails at him, just out of arm's reach.

"Oh, but you do," the Doctor's voice is a low, wicked growl. His words are drawn out, spoken slowly, like someone addressing a particularly dense child. "You, the universe, this place. All need me." Black eyes glittering, he draws a little closer, though not quite close enough to invade the Master's space. "You'd destroy a billion

[beholdthedrums]

The Doctor doesn't know him. The Master had proven that wrong before, after all. He'd do it again, in any way possible, just to make his point. How could the he ever even think he knew him? No. The Doctor was only trying to make himself feel better.

This was something he forced himself to believe. Took the words into a corner of his mind and let the drumming shape them into a new concept.

Something changes, then, because now he's starting to really see the Doctor. Almost accept it. The Master makes sure to never allow the Doctor to get behind him, stepping around slowly so that he's always facing him. All his anger seems to suddenly leave him with a snap that breaks his tension. He claps his hands together, a strange, intangible delight veiling him. What a better day this was becoming

1/2

[who_never_would]

Suspicion immediately flickers into the Doctor's eyes, and the Master's sudden movement causes him to flinch a bit - just an bit. He slides one foot back, the rest of his body following the motion to get some distance between himself and the suddenly cheerful man in front of him. There's fear radiating from the Doctor, as the situation has changed in a manner he had not quite foreseen. It bothers him - he knows the Master is capable of abrupt mood shifts just as he is, but this is entirely unexpected. He smothers that trepidation, grinning a manic little grin back at the other Time Lord. This is something he can deal with. Adaptation is his strength, he reminds himself, the concept of changing to fit the situation. Terror simmers underneath the surface of that bravado, but he shoves it back - that inexorable terror that's past intellectual comprehension. He's becoming something, something he shouldn't be... No. He has to protect the people of this city, no matter what the cost, no matter how high the price. Even if it means he gives

2/2 [rofl, hit the character limit]

[who_never_would]

"There's got to be someway to get a reaction from the city. Something huge. Something massively destructive. Somehow, there's got to be a way to trigger the city's defenses. I'm sure it's got some kind of mainframe like that, and if there's a way to trigger it, one way or another, that brings these people - and you a bit closer to leaving." He turns back towards the Master, looking at him with bright, intelligent eyes. "And if there's one being in this city capable of mass, wide-scale destruction, it's you

The Doctor does like to talk. He thinks the Master is bad? Look into a mirror! XD

[beholdthedrums]

This, perhaps, is winning. Not dying - that simply started the ball’s motion - but this. The brush of the Doctor’s mind is slightly unnerving, but then, if the other was trying to butt in and find anything, he’d be met with many harsh, well-made barricades. The Master takes no chance; the only thing the Doctor may catch is a faint rumble of the drumming, yet even those are firmly cemented to the Master himself. He does not jerk away at the thoughts he catches - Theta and Koschei, mirror images, so much the same, so… - they’re dead now, that was a long time ago - and only watches the Doctor.

His help, yes! Yes, that was exactly what the Master wants to hear! Keep going, Doctor. Keep going into that darkness that has made its residence in your eyes - he recognizes the thrill now. It’s priceless and amazing and the Doctor is clueless to how much the Master’s mind is rolling through it. Such victory, starting with a death at the hands of Lucy onboard the Valiant to resurrecting in the City of Taxon to this older Doctor, to this Doctor

Doctor Latifa. Roxy Master? ... Master in a glittery red dress, wtf self.

[who_never_would]

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor walks away from the Master, needing distance, needing that bit of space to formulate his thoughts correctly. The Master's words sink into him, deep, deep down into the quiet, dark doubts in the back of his head. "You're..." and the word halts on his tongue, because it's an admission he's never made. The things the Master says make sense, in a terrible, horrible way, they make such utter and perfect sense, and he'd been daft not to see it before. "Right. You're completely right." There's no sadness, just careful, cold consideration. "When in reality all I'm doing is..." and now the Doctor's really starting to lose it, that familiar lump is rising in his throat, and tears sting fiercely at the corners of his eyes. What is it about this man that drives him to such extremes? He fights that impulse down, glad his back is to the Master at the moment, though the faintest quiver of his shoulders betrays his momentary weakness. "All I'm doing is screaming into the dark like some kind of kid. Trying to change a