That was the first thing he said to Barty, smirking with that arrogant, obnoxious pride of his as he pulled himself upright, brushing off the grass and mud he'd ploughed into upon impact. It hadn't been a smooth landing but portal jumping never exactly was. He only had so much power left from the white point star to manage a cross dimensional journey and given the speed and how little time he had to get it right, he'd basically just tackled an unsuspecting Barty right into the portal rather than even trying to stop and explain anything any further.
Hence their rather glorious crash landing into this charming little park, Barty unfortunately taking the brunt of the impact but more did he want? He got a rescue, did he? Freedom from Asgard, a future and everything.
Turning his head to make sure that Barty was definitely still alive, he could barely hide his own amusement at this whole thing. The Master didn't exactly look the same by any means. Hell, if Barty didn't know any better, he could of easily of mistaken him from a strange homeless man. He'd, erm, work on that part later. For now, they were here. That's all that mattered.
"Sorry about the state of the travel, didn't have much time. One way journey, limited power. Had to think on my feet a little. Welcome to Earth, circa twenty first century!"
Barty had not expected this. Not any of it, obviously. But he carried knives aplenty on his person and so it was no surprise that one of them ended up in the Master's side before he recognized him and definitely before he could figure out what just happened.
He just knew it hurt and had knocked the breath out of him. While he was starting to regain that, hands closing around knife hilts even while he became convinced he had at the very least cracked a rib he stared at the man in front of him and...
"Master?" There was hesitation in his voice as he said the name he had spoken so seldom before. What was that hair and where was the suit?
"Barty," the Master greeted, his smile bridging just on the edge of unsettled, like he wasn't quite sure why he was happy or if he should even be this happy. Nothing was quite slotting together in his head right any more, he only knew that this was the right thing to do. The moment the memories had been triggered, he knew what he had to do. It was the afterwards that he was having trouble with.
There was something, a pang in his side, which he didn't pay much attention to at first. Not until it started to throb and he looked down at the knife sticking out of his side. Looking back up, he made no move to remove it, he simply looked more annoyed than pained.
"Oh, well, is this what you call a thank you? Really? Thanks. Just what I needed."
Yanking it out without flinching, he hissed and dropped the stained knife onto the grass. How rude.
Barty blinked a couple of times, getting to his feet slowly, although he stayed down. Crouching, fittingly enough, as he looked up at the Master and then at his knife after it landed on the ground. He quickly picked it back up and put it where it belonged, at the same time closing the distance between them. Finally he stood, pressing a hand over where the knife had just been in the Master's body and doing what he could not to let his hesitation show.
"I didn't recognize you fast enough." Not quite an apology, but fast enough. He had questions, so many questions. How had this happened? Was it permanent? Were they really on Earth? "What happened to your hair?"
"I didn't have any time to explain, it was a little hectic," the Master pointed out as he batted Barty's away, looking down at the blood that was now staining his already technically ruined hoodie. It wasn't the best piece of clothing. Stained, marked, riddled with holes. And his trousers weren't much better either. He had, admittedly, stolen these from a donation box for homeless people so they weren't the best. But he didn't have many other options at the time.
Clicking his neck slowly, side to side, he looked at Barty with vague bemusement. Oh, yeah, the hair. He'd forgotten about that.
"Bleached it. I looked like the old prime minister, obviously, it was out of my hands," the Master dismissed as he snaked his hand around to his side, applying pressure where he could to try and keep himself together. "I'm having body problems, nothing is quite going right with it. And I can't get rid, either."
He didn't really want to get into his terrible life decisions right now. "Are you going to say thank you yet or what?"
Barty just ran his fingers through the bleached hair, nodding as he tried to follow along as bet he could. Body issues? It had him concerned even before curiosity set in and that was quite the discovery. He hadn't really known the extent of caring he felt. Of course, what had become obvious back in Asgard already after the Master had left was just how good his company had been for him at times.
It was all a bit much to wrap his mind around, really, but finally he smiled, even if his eyes looked less sure about the whole business. "Thank you."
A Master whose body wasn't quite right. He had dealt with that before, at least. "Can I help you?"
"Can you repair my body and drain a highly dangerous level of artron energy?" the Master asked bluntly, not even slightly curious if he could or couldn't because the answer was kind of obvious. On Gallifreyans could. And he didn't want anything from any of them, not after what they'd done to him. He may not have much any more but he still had a lot of pride.
Too much to go to them for help.
Moving his hand away and wiping the excess blood onto his hoodie, he smiled playfully at Barty. After everything, he needed something good. Something relatively simple. It had been a while since he'd had something happen the way he wanted it too.
"Doesn't matter anyway," he dismissed, holding his arms open in a rather showy gestured. "Did you miss me? Gone on, say it. We both know you did."
"Can I?" It was kind of an actual question, because he had no idea what atron energy was and for all he knew that was why he had been transported here. But it didn't appear to be the case and so he let it go for once, watching the Master's smile and replying dryly.
"Oh yes. My life wasn't worth living without you." He really didn't consider his life all that worthwhile no matter the company, but at the moment it was almost easy to forget that. "It's been a while."
He didn't really have an idea of exactly how long, what with his own absence from Asgard and how time wasn't exactly easy to grasp under the circumstances. "Are you staying..." He trailed off. The Master didn't look as if he had stayed anywhere Barty would want to go, not in some time. "Let me check on that." He made a movement with his hand to indicate where he'd stabbed him.
"You can't. And I knew it! Just knew it. I was the centre of your life, it must of been so hard," the sarcasm was obvious as he took a moment to look at Barty, to try and judge just how long they'd been away. He had a pretty good sense of time and how it passed but lately, it all blurred. He looked at Barty and he didn't see a time stamp, just a tired man he wanted to be with more than he wanted to admit.
Lately, he found himself losing his ability to care how sentimental he was. He blamed the Doctor, he was the one that wormed his affection into his head.
He let the comment about his staying anywhere slide because yes, he had been sleeping rough for a long time now. Not exactly ideal for his new guest. But he'd find somewhere, he always did, Clicking his tongue, he raised his hoodie up to display the swiftly healing wound. It was already starting to fade into his body, barely bleeding any more. Artron energy, dangerous but good for healing. Like pure regenerative energy trying to seep free.
"Alien, remember? Good thing, too. You're very stab happy lately," Though who could blame him? "Did the towns folk properly turn on you yet? Pitchforks and fire, all that type of thing."
Of course Barty was used to the Master talking about the Doctor. Various incarnations of him, no less. He'd listened to it for hours on end in Asgard and since coming here there had been more than enough of it too, now that he'd slowly pieced together what all had happened and what role the Doctor played in it.
So it wasn't really surprising to have the Master go on about the Doctor again now. It was always a bit fascinating, even if it could get a bit much at times, but his intensity had a certain appeal to Barty, it always had.
He was just listening now, because it didn't seem as if his input was required. Listening and watching the Master sit down only to jump up again. Barty stayed on the bed himself, finger between the pages of the book he'd been reading.
"He left, you see, he always does this. Thinks he defeated me and leaves. So I have to go through all this effort just to remind him that I'm here. That I'm still waiting," the Master continued his rant, now crouched on the floor among various pieces of technology, assembling it all into what appeared to be -- well, a big heap of junk. But he was actually aiming for a tissue compresses again. Laser screwdrivers only ran on artron energy, he needed a TARDIS to make one of those again. What a shame too.
"So I kill a few dirty apes, regain myself some control and I soon get his attention. You watch! I give him thirty minutes after I start."
Leaning over, the Master swiftly input a few more numbers into his stolen laptop, double checking just how many computers he was locked into now. Over 20,000 computers had accidentally downloaded the new virus he'd created. A rather pleasant little one that activated on his say-so and proceed to run an algorithm that should, in theory, alter the stability of the device and lead to some violent self destructions. All the while before, they were feeding him all the important stuff like bank details, hidden secrets, anything he could use really. It had only taken him a night of solid work to kick the whole thing into gear. Honestly, the Doctor didn't appreciate the effort he put into these things.
"When he comes, I'll finally crush him and be done with it!"
"I see," Barty said, although he saw nothing like that happening. The Master had regaled him with more than enough stories of the Doctor after all and ultimately it didn't seem like a very likely outcome. But his voice had the pleasant emptiness he tended to use when the Master was in such a mood. He did watch him with interest though, his knowledge of any such technology was still rather rudimentary, but that didn't make it any less fascinating to him.
"What kind of control do you plan on gaining?" Just curiosity. Also, obviously, the plan that would dictate the next chapter of his life and given the Master's track record and his mortality, possibly the last chapter. All the more reason to try and stay on top of it.
"Mostly I'm looking to gain as much vital information in the most dangerous manner without getting any blame. So I've targeted certain laptops, randomly, across the country with a virus I made. So I'm currently taking as much information as I can from them, this ranges from your dull and uninteresting to the politicians, the rich and the famous. The more I get, the more leverage I have here," the Master explained as he finished fitting several screws into what he was making. Here on Earth, he found very quickly that knowledge was power. Humans were very secretive and he was determined to make use of that.
"Of course when I have what I need, I'll see if any of it is of use. If so, I can move onto my next plan. If not, I cut my losses and blow everything to pieces. Start all over again."
With a slightly amused smile, the Master double checked some of the uploaded date on his laptop before lifting it up and displaying to Barty the picture of a rather famous green politician on a fox hunt. "Hypocrites and liars, you lot are. No offence, of course, I'm glad of it. Makes this so much easier for me."
"I'm not offended. If I thought any different of humanity, I'd be an idiot." And he didn't consider himself to be that. Barty recognized neither the politician nor a fox hunt, but he understood what the Master was getting at and it was definitely a good plan. He knew these things worked, powerful people always were vulnerable in some way and this did seem to be like it would work. Quick and efficient.
He could admire that and since there was no reason not to, he let himself. It was a good feeling to know that he hadn't been wrong in his estimation of the Master, not that he'd ever really doubted it. Not even back in Asgard.
"So he will come to stop you? Will he want to kill you?"
"Ah, see, now this is the grand debate," the Master said with a smile that really didn't fit the topic. He shuffled forward, leaning at the bottom on the bed and looking up at Barty where he lay, trying to make sure he had his attention. "Here's the thing, I can so easily make him hate me. I can. But I'm the last of his kind now, we're the only two left. And he's so desperately lonely."
The Master may have mocked him for it but he understood it. He and the Doctor were each others equals, the only like minds they knew. To lose the Doctor would mean he'd truly be alone. Sure, he have Barty but ... well, it wasn't really the same. It was hard to explain, actually, what Time Lords meant to each other.
"Time was, he'd set me on fire and leave me to rot somewhere but now? He can't do it, he has to forgive and forget. He's a coward," the Master spat, as if the act of mercy scorned him more than anything. He loathed to be forgiven.
Barty reached out to put a hand on the Master's cheek, making sure to catch his eyes, making sure he'd know he was listening. Trying to understand, maybe, but he knew ultimately he couldn't and even if he could, the Master wouldn't accept it.
But he did know loneliness, knew it well enough to be able to imagine how it could drive someone to such emotions. Knew the Master well enough to see why he'd reject it. He gave a nod.
"I should hope so. I wouldn't want you dead." Not mentioning how he didn't have any illusions about his own life expectancy not being enhanced by a run-in with the Doctor.
"I'd come back, I wouldn't die. I never stay dead. I told you that before," the Master insisted, pulling back and dropping onto the floor again, reassembling his pieces to continuing his work. "I'd just be a bit different, is all. I was older before this, you know? A very old man."
An old optimistic human who wanted to save everyone. How ironic.
"Of course, I was to be young again and here I am," the Master bragged, throwing his arms out in a rather grand gesture to show just how well that had worked. He wasn't startling young like Eleven but then he hadn't wanted to be. Young enough to run around and do what needed doing. "It's not so bad, I never change too much."
Even though he hadn't slept for several days and had worked considerably more than his body could stand at this point, the Master felt very accomplished when he woke Barty up that morning, jumping on the bed a little too excitedly. In his hand, what appeared to be a canister or some kind of storage container with a button on the top. It didn't look like much but he presented it rather eagerly.
"Guess what I have?" he asked rather boldly, curious to see what Barty would think. After all, this was a rather ingenious little device. Impressive, actually. "No, really, guess."
"A can?" It might not be the best first guess, although rather accurate as far as shape was concerned. But, in all fairness, he had literally just woken up and the range of things the Master could excitedly show him was very wide, as past experiences indicated. Still, he sat up right away, dragging a hand through his hair as he looked at the canister while he tried to make himself wake up.
A canister with a button. Amazingly helpful, could be anything from a biscuit jar to a bomb. He'd rather have a biscuit, especially before tea.
"Looks scientific." So far the guessing wasn't going well.
"Of course it does, it is," the Master deadpanned, clearly not amused by his half asleep friend. Though, regardless, he still shuffled Barty along and lay down beside him on the bed, happily displaying the canister with a proud expression. "It's a miniature sort of time machine. Basically, you input a date, time or place you want to be and after a bit of searching, it can take you there."
It wasn't a TARDIS and it did have it's limits, specifically battery power and direction. But overall, it was going to provide them with nice short trips. "I mean really, a can? Like I would bring you some old can. Do you know me or what?"
For the moment Barty just nodded as if it all made sense. To be fair, he got it, now that he'd woken up further. It didn't sound that much different from a timeturner and he had seen those before at the ministry. A familiar concept, even aside the fact that the Master had told him quite a bit about time travel by now.
He turned to the side and propped up on his elbow to better look at the Master. "Mhm. I just woke up, looked like a can." He shrugged with one shoulder, inspecting the can again now that his mind was more up for processing information. "How did you make it?" He doubted he could really follow that, but showing off fed the Master's ego.
"Well, it's early, you should be awake. I'm awake, haven't slept in a few days. Not that I need it, neither do you. Sleep is just a waste of time," the Master argued a little more erratically than he maybe should of. It wasn't that he didn't want Barty to sleep, he just sometimes wished he had company at night when he was working away in his annoying insomnia, "It's sort of like a time... can?"
"Engineering, I suppose?" It was said dismissively, the can lying between them as the Master slumped into the bed, one arm rising up and covering his eyes to try and get himself a few moments to rest his eyes. "We should go somewhere, to test it out. I'll pick a date and we can go off. Today! Whenever you're ready."
"I apologize for my species' needs." Barty's voice was dry enough that it was impossible to tell whether he was seriously apologizing or making fun of him. Same difference, really, he doubted the Master really cared. As he watched him cover his eyes he started to run his fingers through the Master's hair, allowing concern to show while he wasn't watching.
"Maybe you should catch up on some sleep before we go." The concern was very carefully kept out of his tone here. He wasn't stupid. "I should probably dress first."
"Can't sleep, the drums are too loud," the Master exhaled slowly, keeping his arm over his eyes. He knew Barty was concerned but he didn't want the concern, it felt too close to pity. He let it stand, for now, but if it kept happening then he'd have to do something. He didn't need sleep or concern, he needed something to distract his mind and give him a little silence.
"Go dress, I'd rather be distracted than coddled," then, with a sigh, he rolled onto his front and buried his head into the pillow, trying to block out any light that might annoy him. "Call me when you're done. I'll be here."
"I'd be perfectly capable of coddling and distracting at the same time." Might as well mutter about that, since the Master was already peeved. Nevertheless Barty got up, heading right for the closet. He didn't say anything further as he got dressed. Nothing special, apart from the fact that the leather jacket he put on had space for his wand and knife sheaths. He had taken a liking to knives in Asgard, one never knew when they might come in handy. Especially when travelling through time.
Once dressed, Barty looked at the Master again, wondering if he'd actually passed out. No coddling though, so. "Ready when you are."
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That was the first thing he said to Barty, smirking with that arrogant, obnoxious pride of his as he pulled himself upright, brushing off the grass and mud he'd ploughed into upon impact. It hadn't been a smooth landing but portal jumping never exactly was. He only had so much power left from the white point star to manage a cross dimensional journey and given the speed and how little time he had to get it right, he'd basically just tackled an unsuspecting Barty right into the portal rather than even trying to stop and explain anything any further.
Hence their rather glorious crash landing into this charming little park, Barty unfortunately taking the brunt of the impact but more did he want? He got a rescue, did he? Freedom from Asgard, a future and everything.
Turning his head to make sure that Barty was definitely still alive, he could barely hide his own amusement at this whole thing. The Master didn't exactly look the same by any means. Hell, if Barty didn't know any better, he could of easily of mistaken him from a strange homeless man. He'd, erm, work on that part later. For now, they were here. That's all that mattered.
"Sorry about the state of the travel, didn't have much time. One way journey, limited power. Had to think on my feet a little. Welcome to Earth, circa twenty first century!"
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He just knew it hurt and had knocked the breath out of him. While he was starting to regain that, hands closing around knife hilts even while he became convinced he had at the very least cracked a rib he stared at the man in front of him and...
"Master?" There was hesitation in his voice as he said the name he had spoken so seldom before. What was that hair and where was the suit?
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There was something, a pang in his side, which he didn't pay much attention to at first. Not until it started to throb and he looked down at the knife sticking out of his side. Looking back up, he made no move to remove it, he simply looked more annoyed than pained.
"Oh, well, is this what you call a thank you? Really? Thanks. Just what I needed."
Yanking it out without flinching, he hissed and dropped the stained knife onto the grass. How rude.
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"I didn't recognize you fast enough." Not quite an apology, but fast enough. He had questions, so many questions. How had this happened? Was it permanent? Were they really on Earth? "What happened to your hair?"
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Clicking his neck slowly, side to side, he looked at Barty with vague bemusement. Oh, yeah, the hair. He'd forgotten about that.
"Bleached it. I looked like the old prime minister, obviously, it was out of my hands," the Master dismissed as he snaked his hand around to his side, applying pressure where he could to try and keep himself together. "I'm having body problems, nothing is quite going right with it. And I can't get rid, either."
He didn't really want to get into his terrible life decisions right now. "Are you going to say thank you yet or what?"
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It was all a bit much to wrap his mind around, really, but finally he smiled, even if his eyes looked less sure about the whole business. "Thank you."
A Master whose body wasn't quite right. He had dealt with that before, at least. "Can I help you?"
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Too much to go to them for help.
Moving his hand away and wiping the excess blood onto his hoodie, he smiled playfully at Barty. After everything, he needed something good. Something relatively simple. It had been a while since he'd had something happen the way he wanted it too.
"Doesn't matter anyway," he dismissed, holding his arms open in a rather showy gestured. "Did you miss me? Gone on, say it. We both know you did."
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"Oh yes. My life wasn't worth living without you." He really didn't consider his life all that worthwhile no matter the company, but at the moment it was almost easy to forget that. "It's been a while."
He didn't really have an idea of exactly how long, what with his own absence from Asgard and how time wasn't exactly easy to grasp under the circumstances. "Are you staying..." He trailed off. The Master didn't look as if he had stayed anywhere Barty would want to go, not in some time. "Let me check on that." He made a movement with his hand to indicate where he'd stabbed him.
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Lately, he found himself losing his ability to care how sentimental he was. He blamed the Doctor, he was the one that wormed his affection into his head.
He let the comment about his staying anywhere slide because yes, he had been sleeping rough for a long time now. Not exactly ideal for his new guest. But he'd find somewhere, he always did, Clicking his tongue, he raised his hoodie up to display the swiftly healing wound. It was already starting to fade into his body, barely bleeding any more. Artron energy, dangerous but good for healing. Like pure regenerative energy trying to seep free.
"Alien, remember? Good thing, too. You're very stab happy lately," Though who could blame him? "Did the towns folk properly turn on you yet? Pitchforks and fire, all that type of thing."
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So it wasn't really surprising to have the Master go on about the Doctor again now. It was always a bit fascinating, even if it could get a bit much at times, but his intensity had a certain appeal to Barty, it always had.
He was just listening now, because it didn't seem as if his input was required. Listening and watching the Master sit down only to jump up again. Barty stayed on the bed himself, finger between the pages of the book he'd been reading.
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"So I kill a few dirty apes, regain myself some control and I soon get his attention. You watch! I give him thirty minutes after I start."
Leaning over, the Master swiftly input a few more numbers into his stolen laptop, double checking just how many computers he was locked into now. Over 20,000 computers had accidentally downloaded the new virus he'd created. A rather pleasant little one that activated on his say-so and proceed to run an algorithm that should, in theory, alter the stability of the device and lead to some violent self destructions. All the while before, they were feeding him all the important stuff like bank details, hidden secrets, anything he could use really. It had only taken him a night of solid work to kick the whole thing into gear. Honestly, the Doctor didn't appreciate the effort he put into these things.
"When he comes, I'll finally crush him and be done with it!"
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"What kind of control do you plan on gaining?" Just curiosity. Also, obviously, the plan that would dictate the next chapter of his life and given the Master's track record and his mortality, possibly the last chapter. All the more reason to try and stay on top of it.
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"Of course when I have what I need, I'll see if any of it is of use. If so, I can move onto my next plan. If not, I cut my losses and blow everything to pieces. Start all over again."
With a slightly amused smile, the Master double checked some of the uploaded date on his laptop before lifting it up and displaying to Barty the picture of a rather famous green politician on a fox hunt. "Hypocrites and liars, you lot are. No offence, of course, I'm glad of it. Makes this so much easier for me."
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He could admire that and since there was no reason not to, he let himself. It was a good feeling to know that he hadn't been wrong in his estimation of the Master, not that he'd ever really doubted it. Not even back in Asgard.
"So he will come to stop you? Will he want to kill you?"
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The Master may have mocked him for it but he understood it. He and the Doctor were each others equals, the only like minds they knew. To lose the Doctor would mean he'd truly be alone. Sure, he have Barty but ... well, it wasn't really the same. It was hard to explain, actually, what Time Lords meant to each other.
"Time was, he'd set me on fire and leave me to rot somewhere but now? He can't do it, he has to forgive and forget. He's a coward," the Master spat, as if the act of mercy scorned him more than anything. He loathed to be forgiven.
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But he did know loneliness, knew it well enough to be able to imagine how it could drive someone to such emotions. Knew the Master well enough to see why he'd reject it. He gave a nod.
"I should hope so. I wouldn't want you dead." Not mentioning how he didn't have any illusions about his own life expectancy not being enhanced by a run-in with the Doctor.
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An old optimistic human who wanted to save everyone. How ironic.
"Of course, I was to be young again and here I am," the Master bragged, throwing his arms out in a rather grand gesture to show just how well that had worked. He wasn't startling young like Eleven but then he hadn't wanted to be. Young enough to run around and do what needed doing. "It's not so bad, I never change too much."
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"Guess what I have?" he asked rather boldly, curious to see what Barty would think. After all, this was a rather ingenious little device. Impressive, actually. "No, really, guess."
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A canister with a button. Amazingly helpful, could be anything from a biscuit jar to a bomb. He'd rather have a biscuit, especially before tea.
"Looks scientific." So far the guessing wasn't going well.
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It wasn't a TARDIS and it did have it's limits, specifically battery power and direction. But overall, it was going to provide them with nice short trips. "I mean really, a can? Like I would bring you some old can. Do you know me or what?"
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He turned to the side and propped up on his elbow to better look at the Master. "Mhm. I just woke up, looked like a can." He shrugged with one shoulder, inspecting the can again now that his mind was more up for processing information. "How did you make it?" He doubted he could really follow that, but showing off fed the Master's ego.
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"Engineering, I suppose?" It was said dismissively, the can lying between them as the Master slumped into the bed, one arm rising up and covering his eyes to try and get himself a few moments to rest his eyes. "We should go somewhere, to test it out. I'll pick a date and we can go off. Today! Whenever you're ready."
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"Maybe you should catch up on some sleep before we go." The concern was very carefully kept out of his tone here. He wasn't stupid. "I should probably dress first."
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"Go dress, I'd rather be distracted than coddled," then, with a sigh, he rolled onto his front and buried his head into the pillow, trying to block out any light that might annoy him. "Call me when you're done. I'll be here."
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Once dressed, Barty looked at the Master again, wondering if he'd actually passed out. No coddling though, so. "Ready when you are."
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