[ooc: I feel sort of silly doing this, 'cause he was tagged by Eight and all, but, y'know. With Fivey in the mindset that he is, I can't resist.]
Five slips out of his TARDIS, looking a slight tired but otherwise all right. Well, until he practically feels the near sinister satsifaction drifting in and about his mind. And, of course, when he looks about, his eyes find the Master.
"What have you gotten up to?" The amusement is gone from his voice, but there might be a rather small smile set to his lips.
This isn't the person he was exactly hoping to see. Especially considering some of the thoughts he's had as of late.
Heartsbeats quicken at the light tapping of fingertips against his collarbone. This touch unsettles him more than anything has thus far, the fact that the soft rhythm against his chest now is the very one magnified in the Master's head. The very one that has driven him over the edge, the one that is almost maddening to the Doctor right then...
He snatches up the other's hand in his own, his fingers closed tightly around those that were once tapping so innocently. "And you are subjecting yourself to some petty drums, are you?"
The Master doesn't try to pull his hand away from the Doctor, allowing him to hold his fingers captive, though the drums are roaring in his mind. Somehow, they always get louder when the Doctor's around.
"I can't stop them. They won't go away, not ever."
The Doctor knows they will never fade, those drums. That perhaps the steady beat might fade, might dull to a soft annoyance in the back of the other's vast mind. But they would still be there, and the Doctor can do nothing to change that.
"How can you be so certain that it is them staying, and not you holding onto them?"
The Master's silent for a moment, a second of uncertainty flickering in his eyes. He shakes it off after a moment, but it was there, unmistakable.
"Why would I want to keep them? They never stop, and do you know how much it hurts, the constant drumming when I can't do anything about it? You think I would keep that of my own free will? I don't have any free will, Doctor. Not now."
The uncertainty does not go unnoticed. "It's in our nature to hold onto things that are familiar. Especially when it appears you haven't much of anything left. Subconciously, perhaps."
This might be why his fingers are still curled around the Master's. Because this is something familiar, something he knows he can always come back to when things have been torn to hell. And from the looks of things, he always does.
His voice grows quiet, almost a harsh whisper. "You chose to listen to them, to bring about pain, destruction, despair in their name, didn't you?"
The Master stares at him a second longer, and then tries to take a step back, though not enough to pull out of the Doctor's grip if he doesn't want him to. He knows there's a problem when the Doctor can twist his head around this way - usually, it's quite the other way around.
"And what if I did? What then? It's apparently the only choice I have, and I could never be you, Doctor, as much as you'd like me to be."
The Doctor releases the other's hand with the step back and decides to take a step back as well, sliding hands into his pockets. He's not really sure what he can say, what he was trying to achieve.
But there's a nearly sad smile on his lips, "This place is driving you mad, isn't it?"
Even more so, is what he should say, but he doesn't.
The Master's silent for a moment, and something about the Doctor's smile makes him deeply uncomfortable.
"I've been mad, Doctor," he says evasively, his own hands slipping into his pockets as he curls his fingernails into his palms to keep his fingers from drumming of their own accord.
In all honesty, Five is a little uncomfortable with his own actions as well. He's thinking it might be a good idea to go through the door he sees at the Inn, to finally escape all of his regenerative mishaps before something finally breaks.
"I s'pose you have been, yes." There's a nod and he steps away, closer to his own TARDIS which has been settled in a corner of the Inn. He looks to it, long term considerations pulling back into thought.
"Sometime, perhaps we should go on a short trip. If it will ease the drums any." And now there is concern, concern for his actions, and for the Master, too. Five hates feeling this helpless.
The Master, whose eyes had been briefly on the ceiling, looks sharply at the Doctor, gaze suspicious. There's no reason to be, because it's the Doctor, because he is nothing if not honorable, overly sentimental, all of that... But something makes the Master wary. Maybe it's just paranoia that's only grown since he's been in the Inn.
"Weren't you the one who said we hadn't traveled together in a long while?"
Five would never admit his true reasons. Watching the Master grow more and more within the Inn is almost terrifying. Not in the sense that the Master is now any horrid, life changing threat, but moreso because he does not want to watch the other decline. Watch his madness grow due to the secluded nature of the Inn.
"We certainly don't have to, though." A hand comes to rest on the TARDIS doors, but he turns to look over at the other Time Lord curiously.
He studies the Doctor a moment longer, still suspicious, but... he desperately wants to leave. To escape this place, even just for a short time.
After a moment, he nods shortly. "Who am I to turn down an offer to travel with the Doctor? Tell me, does anyone ever say no when you ask them to come along?"
The Doctor's expression almost brightens when the other accepts. He was sure he would put up more of a fight than that.
"A few, of course."
He leans against the TARDIS (who is overhearing the conversation and not liking the way it is going at all) and nods. "Now all we'll need to figure out is where to run off to."
He can't help a tiny smile when the Doctor brightens. He always does, somehow, when he thinks there's a chance, no matter how many times the Master proves him wrong.
"Where indeed," he murmurs, strolling up casually and running his fingers lightly along the side of the TARDIS. "Your ship, Doctor. Your choice."
The TARDIS does not agree with this at all. Oh, she doesn't like that the Master is touching her or that her pilot is being a complete and utter moron. Though there is something eerily familiar to him that draws her in, but otherwise...
"Perhaps something like The Eye of Orion -- very peaceful little place, that one. Open space, no one in sight. Or somewhere relatively harmless on Earth. Paris, perhaps, I always rather liked the sights there, though interesting things occurred last time around. Though it is Earth..."
Running around with Romana, hunting down Mona Lisa paintings? Interesting, indeed!
Five slips out of his TARDIS, looking a slight tired but otherwise all right. Well, until he practically feels the near sinister satsifaction drifting in and about his mind. And, of course, when he looks about, his eyes find the Master.
"What have you gotten up to?" The amusement is gone from his voice, but there might be a rather small smile set to his lips.
This isn't the person he was exactly hoping to see. Especially considering some of the thoughts he's had as of late.
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He snatches up the other's hand in his own, his fingers closed tightly around those that were once tapping so innocently. "And you are subjecting yourself to some petty drums, are you?"
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"I can't stop them. They won't go away, not ever."
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The Doctor knows they will never fade, those drums. That perhaps the steady beat might fade, might dull to a soft annoyance in the back of the other's vast mind. But they would still be there, and the Doctor can do nothing to change that.
"How can you be so certain that it is them staying, and not you holding onto them?"
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"Why would I want to keep them? They never stop, and do you know how much it hurts, the constant drumming when I can't do anything about it? You think I would keep that of my own free will? I don't have any free will, Doctor. Not now."
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This might be why his fingers are still curled around the Master's. Because this is something familiar, something he knows he can always come back to when things have been torn to hell. And from the looks of things, he always does.
His voice grows quiet, almost a harsh whisper. "You chose to listen to them, to bring about pain, destruction, despair in their name, didn't you?"
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"And what if I did? What then? It's apparently the only choice I have, and I could never be you, Doctor, as much as you'd like me to be."
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But there's a nearly sad smile on his lips, "This place is driving you mad, isn't it?"
Even more so, is what he should say, but he doesn't.
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"I've been mad, Doctor," he says evasively, his own hands slipping into his pockets as he curls his fingernails into his palms to keep his fingers from drumming of their own accord.
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"I s'pose you have been, yes." There's a nod and he steps away, closer to his own TARDIS which has been settled in a corner of the Inn. He looks to it, long term considerations pulling back into thought.
"Sometime, perhaps we should go on a short trip. If it will ease the drums any." And now there is concern, concern for his actions, and for the Master, too. Five hates feeling this helpless.
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"Why would you do that?"
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Five would never admit his true reasons. Watching the Master grow more and more within the Inn is almost terrifying. Not in the sense that the Master is now any horrid, life changing threat, but moreso because he does not want to watch the other decline. Watch his madness grow due to the secluded nature of the Inn.
"We certainly don't have to, though." A hand comes to rest on the TARDIS doors, but he turns to look over at the other Time Lord curiously.
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After a moment, he nods shortly. "Who am I to turn down an offer to travel with the Doctor? Tell me, does anyone ever say no when you ask them to come along?"
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"A few, of course."
He leans against the TARDIS (who is overhearing the conversation and not liking the way it is going at all) and nods. "Now all we'll need to figure out is where to run off to."
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"Where indeed," he murmurs, strolling up casually and running his fingers lightly along the side of the TARDIS. "Your ship, Doctor. Your choice."
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"Perhaps something like The Eye of Orion -- very peaceful little place, that one. Open space, no one in sight. Or somewhere relatively harmless on Earth. Paris, perhaps, I always rather liked the sights there, though interesting things occurred last time around. Though it is Earth..."
Running around with Romana, hunting down Mona Lisa paintings? Interesting, indeed!
Reply
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