(Untitled)

[my_dear_doctor]

There's a Master in the multiverse, people!  At the moment, however, he seems mostly oblivious to that fact; he's sitting at a desk, working at sums; a Cuban cigar sits, smouldering, in an ashtray next to him, which he occasionally picks up to chew on.  His brow furrows as he taps the eraser end of his pencil against his paper

Comments

[before_thedrums]

"Watcha doooiiiin?" asks the voice of a teeny tiny Gallifreyan.

[my_dear_doctor]

Young Koschei is very fortunate he's a Self (of sorts, anyway), otherwise the look the Master is currently casting him would not be half so tolerant as it is. As it is, it's a mere lifted eyebrow and a faintly indulgent quirk of the lips.

'Equations, my dear boy.'

[before_thedrums]

Ooh, math. "For fun or are you trying to figure something out?"

[my_dear_doctor]

The look he favours young Koschei with this time is downright approving. Aww. He remembers liking maths as a wee thing.

'These particular ones are for a purpose, yes. I'm trying to figure out a way to balance out the temporal flux that results when a Chronovore is pulled out of its own dimension into ours.'

He furrows his brow, taking the cigar and blowing a thoughtful smoke ring. 'The submatrices of the sums I'm working on here-' tapping the line of figures in question- 'don't quite seem to want to cooperate.'

[to_wear_celery]

"I'm not so certain working out plans in public was ever quite a brilliant idea," There is no amusement to his voice, but the Fifth Doctor is standing a decent distance away from the man, just watching.

He thinks it's best not to get any more involved than he already is. So, he just stands and watches, arms crossed over his chest. In his world, he should be gone! Well, all of that wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff...

(ooc: Because I said I would!)

[my_dear_doctor]

The Master doesn't bother looking up, and when he speaks, his tone is all but a mirror for the Doctor's. 'Come now, Doctor, passing judgment before you even know what I'm working on?'

His whiskers bristle around a slight, frustrated pursing of the lips as he erases the first few figures in a string of equations. 'Nor would it be public if you hadn't decided to walk over here and make it so.'

It's something of a reversal of roles, the Doctor seeking him out to bother him instead of the other way 'round. Not, of course, that the Master says that.

[to_wear_celery]

In some sense, it might be a reversal of roles, but the Doctor does not even pass a thought upon in. In fact, he sees it as a cautionary act. The Master existing just about anywhere generally meant trouble!

With an easy glance, he watches as the equations are erased and raises an eyebrow.

"Ah, but wouldn't it?" There's no real challenge to his voice, but only vague amusement. "And if you were causing trouble, I'd certainly have to be here to step in."