time in essence ; open to taptaptaptap
The passage of time has always been different for them, as Lords of it, but with the very essence of his being trapped in such a limited space, the Doctor has entirely too much of it. He's trying to make the best of the situation, as he does most things (being trapped in 1969, living a bit of his life as a human in the early twentieth century, ( Read more... )
Comments 22
The Master - having raged for an indefinite amount of time at the act of being forcibly removed from his body and stuffed, rather unceremoniously, back into the mock timepiece that had held his essence for entirely too long - stands very sullenly in the 'sand' on the astral plane. Somehow, forcing the issue of communicating with the Doctor by effectively invading the solitude of his mind with contact from his own makes the act of speaking with his rival at all a bittersweet thing, indeed. It isn't entirely admitting defeat, after all, if he waltzes right in like he owns the place.
"...figures," he comments dryly, steps sinking him into the sand as he moves to stand over the reposed figure, blotting out the annoyingly tranquil sunlight and casting a dark shadow over his enemy. "The whole of time and space in your very essence, Time Lord, and you can't think of a better place than this?"
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It's not as if the Doctor has exactly avoided contact with his old enemy ... but he's felt a bit guilty about this whole thing. He'd had it all worked out, after all: he would repair the TARDIS, the two of them would leave, and he would take it from there. But he hadn't factored in Torchwood, even though the organization is known for its animosity toward him. He'd believed Jack when Jack said it was reformed; believed that the captain's ... colleague was trustworthy; and then he'd been summarily betrayed. He's quite certain even now that Jack mustn't know - if he did, surely he would do something about it. Perhaps not restoring the Master, but at least he would do it for the Doctor, wouldn't he? And then he could take care of the Master, and they could pick up where they left off. Now, they have no idea where their human selves have even gone, and that concerns him deeply, that the watches should be separated from their bodies ( ... )
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Far from it, in fact; the Master scoffs at the invitation to sit - oh, yes, he recognizes this place, though from the memories (and emotions) extracted from the fact's mind rather than first-hand experience himself - and flashes a disgusted sneer. "I don't think," is his answer, obvious annoyance in the haughty inflection of his tone. He can't decide, however, if he's annoyed more at his rival's choice of telepathic retreat or at the extended offer for him, of all people, to join the Doctor in it. This - compared to all the places the Doctor has been and could be - is a stupid planet with ridiculous sentimental attachment. And he - the Master, the only other Time Lord in the whole of their universe and the only match for the Doctor in cunning and genius - is far from the lowly, stunted ape with whom this vista was previously shared. It's ill-suited for him - the them, together - and he will change it ( ... )
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The Master is right; the choice of location is sentimental, although if he were privy to the other Time Lord's opinion of the place, the Doctor would not agree that it's ridiculous as well. His attachment to this place does, actually, stretch back to his ninth regeneration - not so very long ago, really - and the memories that accompany that part of his life are pleasant ones of companionship and warmth. He does not underestimate, even now, the impact that Rose and Jack both had in helping him in his recovery after the Time War.
And now, the Master is here, tearing it all apart. The Doctor's expression shifts into a bit of alarm and more than a tinge of annoyance as his welcoming of the other Time Lord turns into the quick destruction of his pleasant daydream. He sits motionless and doesn't do anything to fight it, at any rate, although his pain is palpable in the connection they now share, a melancholy shot through the hearts as the Master rebuilds the landscape around them. He expels an unnecessary sigh, looking about at their ( ... )
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