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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The Master started unbuttoning his shirt, slowly pulling it off and dropping it onto the floor in a heap along with his tie. Then followed his trousers, boxers and socks. He sat there, naked, on the bed, idly toying with the wand he was holding once more. "I like the dark curses, they're fun. People make the sweetest sounds when under them."

Lying back on the bed, he flipped the TV onto the news and lay back, naked and without much shame. Time Lords didn't really make nudity into an issue, it was just a thing to worry over. One he didn't think much on when their true bare being was in their mind. Besides, he wasn't a pyjama man, anyway. They were never comfy enough.

"Good boy," he remarked mockingly, a simple response to the hint of sarcasm he picked up on. "Do you think I could get this wand to impact technology? Like switching channels with a wand? Because I can do that with my screwdriver but this wand has some very limited."

Aka once again, magic fails against technology. Because it had such limited uses.

"Give me a wand and I can test it," Barty suggested dryly. He was a lot more aware of the Master's nudity, because he couldn't remember ever having been in the company of someone without clothes on unless it was for sex. Hell, even during sex fully undressing didn't always happen. British wizard society wasn't exactly liberal in any way. But he obviously didn't remark on it and didn't pay it overly much attention, either, at least not outright.

"I don't know though. I can feel magic. Anyone capable of it can, though some are more sensitive to it. And it does draw on your essence, some spells more than others. Dark magic most of all." He shrugged. "I don't know much about technology, but it's not directly influenced by... conscience, whatever to call it, is it? At least not this type."

He looked at the television for a few seconds, then stretched his hand out. "However, since magic can influence physical matter, I suppose, if you understand how the technology works..." He closed his eyes, focused, which hurt his head. Wandless magic was no easy feat, but he could do it. However, right now his mind wasn't in the best condition, either. But he blinked and, yes. He'd pushed the right button to turn the television off. "Like this."

"I'm never giving you my wand," the Master said bluntly as he lay back lazily on the bed, holding the wand to his chest with a sneer is dismay. He was getting ready for bed and he wasn't going to have his sleep ruined by a crazed wizard after his powers back. If Barty ever even so much as touched his wand, he would summon dementors. No chances, no reasoning, he'd summon them. Because he knew how.

He sat back and waited as Barty focused, curious to see what happened and if Barty could do anything. Then the TV turned right off just like that and the Master simply stared, unable to know what to say next. Did -- Did Barty just do that? The Master was torn between a sort of strange fear or being worried or perhaps unsettled.

But all that came out was a very manic happy bout of laughter. Because it was insane, it was all so insane and he'd had such a horrible day that for whatever reason, this was now funny. All the logic he'd been forced to learn day after day on Gallifrey was being shattered here. And he loved it. The final stab to the gut for Gallifrey, the uptight moronic fools deserved it.

"That was amazing," the Master said, grinning from ear to ear. "Turn it back on!"

At the laughter, crazed as it sounded, Barty let go of a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He knew this had been a gamble, this was a gamble still, but it was going in a good direction. For now. Barty nodded and turned back to the television. It was easier this time, pushing the right button. He wished he knew more about how the thing worked, was put together, maybe he'd be able to do something better then. With time. With a wand perhaps, one day. Here was hoping.

"It's not that difficult. A wand just helps focus the magic. Direct it."

Turning to face the Master he was careful to keep his face empty. "It's a matter of concentration."

"You have to show me, one day," the Master said bluntly as he yawned, knowing he was going to have to sleep sooner or later. He opened his bedside draw and shut the wand in, not mentioning or making it obvious that it was deadlock sealed and unable to be opened without his screwdriver. Which had isomorphic controls as it was. He was curious if Barty had the balls to try and take it.

Finally, he clambered into bed, turning to his new pet with a dark little smile. "You have to earn your keep and be valuable to survive here. Otherwise, I'll just get bored and do away with you."

And that didn't mean death, he'd already made his lack of interest in death clear. No, he always liked the longest amount of suffering possible, those instances were always better.

"It's shut in like the handcuffs were," Barty said by ways of observation instead of actually answering the Master. "Not magic, but something that I can't affect with it. Very frustrating, that." He turned from the drawer to the Master and met his gaze, although he didn't return his smile. His jaw hurt, he didn't feel like smiling.

"I've no interest in being done away with." Not again. He didn't want to be reduced this much ever again. "Good night, Master."

"Clever boy," Was all the Master offered, eyes already closed, knowing that Barty was smart enough to catch on, he was pretty sure for a human, this guy was a genius. And he could appreciate that, he loved intelligence. Especially when done well. "I'm starting to like you more and more every day. Don't make me regret that choice."

And, with an amused little noise, he decided to return the pleasantries. "Good night, Barty."

Barty didn't say anything else. He just laid back on his pillow and tried to feel calm enough to sleep. His heart was beating hard and fast, as if he'd just run a marathon, but this had gone well, he decided. Or as well as could be expected.

In the end, it didn't take him long to pass out. He was exhausted.

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

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