Owl from the Master to the Third Doctor

[theregothedrums]

The Master found it harder than expected to compose his note to the Doctor.... the Doctor as he had been so long ago. He could barely recall how it was between them, it was so long ago.

But finally, he produced a letter in an elegant hand.

My dear Doctor

Comments

[science_advice]

The Doctor had been exploring the castle, but however it's supposed "magic" worked, he hadn't managed to yet find any mechanism to it. And the paintings kept shouting at him when he tried to take things apart to work it out. Not to mention the lack machinery or electronics to even use as material, let alone what the humans in this time period might call 'advanced'. In fact, he hadn't yet established whether this was in fact even in the 1900s.

It was all rather frustrating, and anything seemed a welcome distraction, even an invite from the Master.

After eying the owl that had brough the message suspiciously, he turned the bit of...parchment, really? And wrote on the other side with a feather pen he'd found earlier.

As I seem to have little choice in staying in this place, I will accept.. He pondered the message, swirling the end of the feather in the air. Did it seem too eager? But then, if he wanted the Master to reveal more about this place, whether it was in fact his creation at all, which claim the Doctor was starting to

[theregothedrums]

The signature gave him another twinge, and a wave of memories from a simpler time.

Do try to be prompt, he sent in a quick response, and made his way to the Little Green Apple, sliding into one of the plush velvet booths and ordering a Sidecar.

[science_advice]

The Doctor snorted as he read the reply, tossing it away. As if he wasn't always prompt.

Now, what to wear. Very important, the right sort of clothes when one was trying to... impress someone, especially someone like the Master. Chuckling inwardly, the Doctor headed towards his Tardis and it's wardrobe, with a new spring to his step.

*

Some time (the Doctor couldn't be expected to hurry with these sort of things) later, the Doctor stepped into the Green Apple, decked out in deep red velvet and a black cape with an old gold satin lining, a flash of colour as he took it off and draped it over the back on the bench in one rakish movement.

"Evening, old boy" he said shortly, before seating himself in the booth.

[theregothedrums]

In his simple, perfectly tailored bespoke suit, the Master couldn't help giving the Doctor's outfit a covert once-over. Oh, it had been carefully chosen all right, not that the Doctor would admit it, and he held back a grin.

"I see you found the place," he said breezily. "I suppose you could call it the neighborhood bar. For my neighborhood, at least. Yours was a brandy this time around, wasn't it? Or am I getting my memories crossed?"

[science_advice]

The Doctor snorted. "Niceties, hah! It's not like you've told me anything so far..." he muttered, with an expression that might have been characterized a pout.

[theregothedrums]

The Master scowled at his drink in return. "There's a lot I can't tell you, you know. Or shouldn't, even by my standards. Are you fussing over lack of a bedtime story about our adventures to come? I promise, they're full of examples of your reckless heroism."