[RP for savagestime]: The taking of tea, or: Do I dare disturb the universe?

[timewill_tell]

The memory of the words old friend coming from the Master (John Smith..., no...the Master...) in regards to him was something he struggled to forget. It made an unsettling fondness ripple through him, every time they echoed in his mind, but they were still uttered by a confused mind, under the pretext of shared guilt, of mild duress as they both

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[timewill_tell]

As soon as he heard a voice that shouldn't have been there, the Doctor froze, his head turning swiftly to peer at the man. The Master. Only it wasn't the incarnation he'd met on the Cheetah planet, or the one he'd so recently seen, but rather the one he had seen, the one amongst fire. For a moment, he felt like doing nothing but laughing at the sheer absurdity of it, the normalcy in this, in sharing tea.

Instead, he cleared his throat quietly and responded by handing the kettle as directed, a strained smile on his face.

"I believe one of us isn't where he's supposed to be."

[timewill_tell]

"Yes," he lingered the word, his 's' sibilant as it often was when he ruminated whilst speaking.

"Quite," the Doctor added then, watching the Master with a mixture of apprehension and cleverly disguised pleasure (or so he hoped). He supposed pouring himself a cup of tea would be appropriate, and so he mirrored his friend's actions, taking care not to steep it too long.

Ever curious, he asked, with ease, "Now why would I be sulking?"