32 // [Dream]

[neverendingbeat]

[The Master rarely sleeps. As an old acquaintance of his said once, "Sleep is for tortoises." And that's at least one thing he's said that the Master can agree with. Why sleep when there are so many more, interesting options for what he could be doing?

Of course, given long enough, he does need sleep, but that's not what's happening tonight. Tonight

Comments

Why THANK you! :3 ....may be getting a bit carried away, but w/e

[neverendingbeat]

The man in velvet doesn't respond, but there is a response. A door in front of her opens and a dark-haired, suited man with a moustache and beard hurriedly enters the room and bashes away at the console for a moment before rushing over to the man in velvet. And then, finally registering the presence of Penny, he pauses

[neverendingbeat]

The Master turned his head to look at her through his arm, his expression, or what could be seen of it, was wary. Seeing that they were alone in the room, he removed his hands and turned to sit against the wall, knees close up to his chest. "Penny," he acknowledged.

[horrible_penny]

"Hey," she acknowledged right back, sitting across from him. "Are you okay?" Are you maybe not completely sane? Are you into machines that freak people out? Relevant questions, all, but Penny didn't think that this was the time for them.

[neverendingbeat]

"Yes, I'm...I'm completely fine," said the Master, the corners of his mouth turning up briefly. "I wasn't intending for that to happen; how...strange." Calming down slightly, he let his legs move out away from his chest into a more relaxed seated position.

[horrible_penny]

"Dreams're like that sometimes. Strange." She hesitated. "So... what're you the master of?"

[neverendingbeat]

The Master hesitated as well and then said, "Just the Master."

[horrible_penny]

Penny didn't like that answer. First Captain Hammer isn't the captain of anything, then the Doctor is just the Doctor, and now Harry Saxon is just the Master... which, on second thought, didn't sound like a particularly friendly alias. Perhaps a man with a machine that made people go crazy with fear deserved a sinister alias. Or maybe the machine didn't mean anything. It was a dream. How much faith could be placed in the validity of a dream?

She decided to mull it over later.

"Is it still okay for me to call you Harry?" she asked hopefully.

[neverendingbeat]

The Master sighed. "I suppose you may as well," he said. He didn't move, but somehow they were both sitting in chairs in a room more like the rest of the TARDIS, the walls entirely covered with the strange, circular Gallifreyan writing, pieces and dots like complicated clockwork. "Would you like anything, Penny?"

[horrible_penny]

She was appropriately impressed by the Gallifreyan on the walls. Not that she knew what language it was, of course, but it looked nice.

"No... no, but thank you." Penny rose, adding, "I should probably go." Preferably before she learned anything else about Harold Saxon, alias the Master (or was it the other way around?). Ignorance was undoubtedly one of the best ways she knew of to maintain friendships.

[neverendingbeat]

"All right," said the Master, not really insisting on anything at this point, still unsettled by how his dream had unravelled, and appreciating Penny's dedication to ignorance of his true nature. "I'll create an exit for you. I can't be certain whose dream it will lead to--I'm not even allowed that sort of control in this curse--but it's a door out at the very least." He pointed to a door in the wall, black with a silver figure-eight pattern on it and then leaned back in his chair, a black mug of something in his hands

[horrible_penny]

If nothing else, the Master had excellent taste in doors. "Thanks, Harry. It's worth a try." She pulled the door open. "Enjoy your--" Penny gestured towards his mug, "--whatever that is. Later."

[neverendingbeat]

"Bye," said the Master, waving slightly. He has been true to his word, the door really does lead out of his dream, or head, or however the entire system works. He wants to be alone anyway.