The Master | Saxon Era (
standsonhigh) wrote2013-12-21 02:57 pm
Entry tags:
There's nothing here but what here's mine.
This wasn't, exactly, how he had planned his return. He had expected to be on home turf, a place he understood and wanted to be. Surrounded by worshippers and already plotting. Not here with some strange man using the power he gave specifically to his followers to bring him back. The books of Saxon weren't meant to be public knowledge, they were his private notes, and yet this man decided to drag him into a world he didn't want to be in.
The Master always had a funny feeling that magic wasn't something he should of ever tried to toy with because as it stood, he didn't like where this was going. It defied the logic he knew.
Voldemort was a strange creature, a very unpleasant one at that. He looked sickly and his eyes were red like an albino. Still, he didn't say much on it, he'd looked worse himself and damages were just a sign of ambition and desire. It always took everything out of you, especially with humans.
The drums were raging in his head as he followed Voldemort into this meeting he'd decided to attend. He'd only been back a few days and already he seemed to of captured the imagination of this tiny little creature who was all but eager to introduce him.
An ancient ruler from another reality must of been interesting.
He didn't walk behind Voldemort, he kept in step, not willing to seem a lesser. Hey, the dark lord brought him here. If he was going to play with this merry band of psychopaths, he wanted to seem equal.
The Master always had a funny feeling that magic wasn't something he should of ever tried to toy with because as it stood, he didn't like where this was going. It defied the logic he knew.
Voldemort was a strange creature, a very unpleasant one at that. He looked sickly and his eyes were red like an albino. Still, he didn't say much on it, he'd looked worse himself and damages were just a sign of ambition and desire. It always took everything out of you, especially with humans.
The drums were raging in his head as he followed Voldemort into this meeting he'd decided to attend. He'd only been back a few days and already he seemed to of captured the imagination of this tiny little creature who was all but eager to introduce him.
An ancient ruler from another reality must of been interesting.
He didn't walk behind Voldemort, he kept in step, not willing to seem a lesser. Hey, the dark lord brought him here. If he was going to play with this merry band of psychopaths, he wanted to seem equal.

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He was baiting now, not Barty but the Master. Maybe if he insulted him enough, he'd come down, they'd talk for a while and completely forget about whatever it was that the Master had ordered Barty to do. Sadly, the Doctor didn't know that the Master had very bluntly informed Barty he was coming in. Not until the Doctor was writhing in pain for denying his drums.
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"Don't brace yourself, Doctor. He likes to see you suffer."
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This was all an illusion by him... right? So this was just a game. There was no threat outside the usual.
"Is the wand really needed?" the Doctor asked, a bemused expression on his face. Magic in his universe was nearly always disproved. "It's a little silly, isn't it?"
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"Not needed, but it helps." And then, after a short pause. "Crucio."
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He wasn't overly sure if he screamed or not.
But judging by the noise he could hear, he was pretty sure it wasn't Barty crying out in pain like that. With a desperate pained gasp, he tried to force himself to regain his control, to not give the Master what he wanted. The cries of pain soon turned into desperately held back choked noises, not unlike a wounded animal.
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He ended the curse, finally, lowering his wand although he didn't put it away again. "In this world, Doctor, magic is real."
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And refused to respond to the taunt. Because that had been made painfully aware to him already. So, instead of playing into whatever reaction he was looking for, the Doctor simply closed his eyes and didn't say another word.
Silence was golden. It was the one thing that annoyed the Master the most. And really, what could he say?
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He bit down on his lower lip and crawled to cover what little distance there was between them, reaching out for the Doctor again but not touching him this time, instead letting his hand sink down again. "I'm so sorry."
He'd known despair. Knew it too well, really. It wasn't difficult to mimic, especially down here. "He won't let me stop. They won't."
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That's why he still said nothing and did nothing. He just sat there, looking at Barty with pity in his eyes. Pity and sadness.
But he couldn't get pulled into this again,
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He rubbed his face and stared at the Doctor for a moment or though, actually subconsciously mimicking his same expression. Not a lot of trust in those eyes, but then, he'd never really experienced trust in the first place.
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The drums had never been real. He didn't know what this man had heard or what he thought they were but at least he knew saying that would piss off the probably gloating Master. Good. He had to get back at him somehow. "The drums are just his madness, you can't hear them. No one can but him."
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"It might be better I go. Is there anything you need, Doctor?" Suddenly quite the good and helpful servant.
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He knew Barty wouldn't go for it. He was broken, he was the Master's little 'pet' or whatever. But he was allowed to try. One last chance before he shut down completely and waited for the Master.
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"I'm not you, Doctor." It wasn't another apology, but the tone definitely made it sound like one. "Even if I look like this." With that he headed for the stairs, which was a good way to hide his smile.
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After a minute he finally made his way to the Master, entering the room with the video feed without a word and just waiting for whatever reaction awaited him. It was hard to tell.
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Getting up, the Master finally moved away from the screen he was watching and moved towards Barty, hands in his pockets. Barty had done an admirable job but ... well, everyone knew what he was going to object to. "Magic is still cheating. Bet you couldn't get him to scream like that without magic."
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"He doesn't care that much about himself. Or at least he wants to believe that."
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This version of the Doctor was. It was his weak spot. That and his need to help. Though he supposed it was a good thing because it did give him a rather amusing little idea. He turned to Barty, unable to hide his smile. "Show him. Show him what he really thinks. Expose to him how much he really cares."
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On the other hand, who knew. Perhaps a certain catharsis might come with it. After all, he was aware of having quite a few issues with himself, really. And while he liked to deny any jealousy toward the Doctor, he knew it was there. "Is that it?"
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"Tell you what, Barty, you like a challenge. So lets make this fun for both of us and play a game. If you can make him scream in pain without using your wand or any magic, I'll get you season tickets to that silly broom game thing you like," the Master bargained, waving his hand vaguely at the game he'd entirely forgotten. Clearly not a memorable date. "If you make him cry, I'll do you one free favour you can call on any time. Make him beg for mercy and I'll let you fuck me."
Okay, the last one was impossible and he knew it was impossible. Hence the reward. But hey, he had to reward Barty sometimes. A little challenge never hurt anyone.