standsonhigh | 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.

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"Then I have the same madness," Barty concluded quite logically and then he got up again, hiding the triumph he felt over having gotten him to talk again once he shut down. Good enough. For now. He would have to think of a strategy.

"It might be better I go. Is there anything you need, Doctor?" Suddenly quite the good and helpful servant.

"Let me go," the Doctor tried, knowing it was a silly idea to even ask but hey, what was life without trying. "Someone has to stop him and I will, I always do. We're just playing a waiting game till I can get free. Please, undo these cuffs and we could stop him together. I can help you, but you have to help me."

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.

Barty stared at him, nothing much changing, except for his stance. There was a hesitation there that hadn't been there before. Fear and excitement. But then his shoulders fell and he turned around.

"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.

With a sigh, the Doctor slumped back sadly and rested against the wall, pushing the pain to the back of his mind and escaping into his head. He could focus, keep himself centred and resist any torture thrown at him. As long as he could defy the Master in some way, he was winning.

Barty locked the door behind him and ran his fingers through his hair. Not even sure whether he was trying to look more or less like the Doctor, he couldn't quite shake how strange the whole thing felt off anyway.

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.

"He's so lovely when he screams. He doesn't scream like you, he tries to hide it so desperately," the Master mocked with an amused snort, turning his head and smiling so fondly at Barty. He knew there was a reason he liked Barty and it wasn't just that face of his. "He's going to ignore us now, he always does. Good, let him rot down there."

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."

"Maybe not," Barty actually admitted, lifting his shoulders slightly as he looked at the Master, "He's hard to read." Which wasn't anything he hadn't expected, but it was still rare that he faced someone he couldn't just figure out easily. Combined with the face and his importance to the Master, it did make him feel uneasy, not that he'd admit that out loud.

"He doesn't care that much about himself. Or at least he wants to believe that."

"He doesn't, he cares too much about everyone else. Or he used to. This one is a little -- shall we say vain? He values the body he has and he doesn't want to lose it. As much as he's willing to give up, he won't give up this body without a fight," the Master found it all very funny because who valued a body that much. Sure he loved his now but he wouldn't be that bothered if he died.

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."

"Well, it's a good body," Barty reasoned, eyeing the smile and not quite sure what to make of that. Hm. "You want me to mess with his body?" Because that was rather twisted, he supposed. It was his body, too, after all, in a manner of speaking.

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?"

"I don't want what you do. But scars are always nice, don't you think? Constant reminders to be stuck with," the Master remarked casually, standing in front of Barty with a relative amused expression. He wasn't super giddy like he tended to get with torture, more a casual sort of appreciation for the moment. Like one might get over a film they found quite thrilling.

"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.

There's nothing here but what here's mine.

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