"I always am when someone is dying," the Master informed Barty blandly as he watched his younger self pull Lucy into a dance, even though there was a noticeable lack of noise in the room. No music, no muttering, just the Master humming to himself and dragging Lucy along with. Oh and yeah, here came the kiss.
With an appreciative smirk, the Master turned to Barty. Hey, it wasn't all bad. "I like to think of all my best traits, this one is my best. I'm a world class kisser."
"You are." He could definitely admit that without lying, watching the dancing Master for a much more enjoyable view than the Doctor in his wheelchair. A great kisses, he did agree on that point. World class, he didn't know about that. But he felt no need whatsoever to complain.
"One whole wonderful year," the Master boasted, knowing from experience of talking to other villains that actually conquering somewhere and keep that control was no easy feat. To manage it for a year was truly impressive. Even he saw that now, what a waste that he couldn't hold onto it any longer. And, to be fair, humans were surprisingly relaxed about being conquered.
Well, until he started to kill more of them. "Then the Doctor cheated."
"Of course he did." He knew that much from the Master's stories. However, he also started to get the impression that in this case he might have been on the Doctor's side, which might not be the healthiest thought in his position. Instead of lingering on it he stepped closer to the Master, turning away from the past him to focus on the one with bleached hair he knew so well.
"I've fallen out of my head now, all I can't think of is here," the Master admitted with a small shrug. Since he'd become a little more erratic, he'd had trouble grasping onto thoughts for long. Everything inside of him was so mixed up that he couldn't keep his mind sharp on anything. With a bright smile, he looked passed Barty, eyes on the floating object instead. Putting an arm around Barty's shoulder, he manually turned him so he could look at the lonely Toclafane in the air.
"Look at that," he gestured, clearly amused by whatever they were. "Guess what that is?"
Just an educated guess, given his exposure to the Master's stories so far. He watched the object, trying to make sense of it, but there wasn't much about it he recognized. Metal, sure, but that wasn't exactly an observation exciting enough to state out loud. So instead he just kept looking at it, knowing from the Master's tone that there was definitely something to it that he meant to share.
"Well, I guess you could call it that. It is an alien of sorts. To me, anyway. Not to you," The Master pointed out with the slightest amusement on his face, carefully moving closer. It would be unlikely to be seen by the Toclafane but given how loud and excitable they could be, he didn't want to draw any attention accidentally. "I would like to brag and say they're my greatest creation but I'm afraid I can't have that bragging right. I'll settle for my finest henchmen."
Turning from them, he gave Barty a raise of his eyebrow. "Barty, meet your future. The human races last hurrah."
Barty instinctively stepped closer to the Master, even before his mind inevitably put two and two together. Of course, once it did there was no going back and he shook his head anyway as if he could deny the knowledge.
He was a dark wizard, he knew the Dark Arts, but he felt none of that darkness here and perhaps that was what made it so horrifying to him. Not magic, something he understood and knew the twist things, this was something else and he wanted it to not be true.
"I don't know. Maybe around six billion? I lost count," the Master dismissed as he frowned, curious to see what Barty's reaction was. After all, this was humanity really. In the end. Humanity always sought to be pure and survive by any means, looked like they meant it. No matter what people said or did, in the end they were lost, scared and hateful creatures, locked into destructive metal balls.
"I didn't do a single thing to them. He thinks I did, he thinks somehow, some way, I talked humanity into this," And part of him wished he did just so he could gloat. What a shame. "If it's any help, you'll be long long dead by the time this happens."
"Very helpful." It was said dryly and came out pretty close to normal. He was glad for that. It was only with difficulty that he managed to tear his gaze away from the Toclafane. No soul. Strange thought to have, but then again, probably not, given everything. He wondered if there was still a part of it, somewhere, aware enough to realize, aware enough to want to scream. Too close. Entirely too close for comfort.
But showing weakness wasn't something he had ever allowed himself and while some part of him almost thought the reflex of seeking comfort from the Master was the right one, intellectually he thought it would be a mistake. Especially while he seemed mostly gleeful about it all. So Barty decided to just turn right around and head back toward the exit. At least he could hide his face that way.
"Well, it's a good thing. I saw one of them get turned into this, it was extremely painful. Blood everywhere, organs melted, eyes just -- oi!" Where was he going? Spinning around, he followed after Barty, a confused look on his face. Okay, not that confused. He had a good feeling he knew where he'd gone wrong. It was the Toclafane, wasn't it? Maybe too soon to throw that kind of stuff at him?
He couldn't help it, he wanted to show them off. Hurrying after Barty, he soon caught up with them, a small frown on his face. "Want to leave? I guess we can if you're going to sulk. We may as well."
Sulk? Not quite what he'd call it, but if it got him an out, he could definitely handle skipping any discussion about word choice in favour of a simple nod. Leaving sounded good right now. Not that it would change anything, because what was happening was in his mind and he knew he couldn't run from that.
"Fine, fine, we'll leave," he dropped cannister down and set the co-ordinates for the hotel once again, a simple return trip that couldn't go too badly. He pressed the button till it flatted down and dropped it on the floor, preparing for their trip back. Hopefully being home would prevent any further sulking. He didn't fancy a night of Barty in a bad mood.
"See, going. Happy?" The Master asked as the device started to kick in and light up furiously.
"Ecstatic." Barty closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, his thoughts flashing between the things he'd just realized and lies of memories he didn't believe in anymore, like feeling safe in his mother's arms, like being loved for what he was. In the end the one thing was to real and the other too false to find any comfort whatsoever.
Once they were back, the Master slipped the canister back onto the table and turned to Barty. Oh Rassilon, it was like Lucy all over again. One little glimpse of the future and they all fell into this horrible depression. Hey, he'd seen the future of the Time Lords, he knew that they all burnt. He wasn't getting weepy over it.
Mostly because they deserved it. "Are you angry? Why? That's not your future."
"I'm not angry. I know it's not. Anymore." Barty ran his fingers through his hair and then took his wand out, quickly removing the spells cast over them. Then he headed for the window, just so he could see outside and watch the street beneath them. He wasn't particularly eager to explain that he was actually frightened, because that wasn't something he'd admit out loud.
"You're not fine. You look like Lucy did after I took her to see the Toclafane. And that ended in me dying so I'd rather you were honest with me," the Master insisted because he didn't like this, he didn't want Barty to be angry or scared. Weirdly enough, he got almost no rush from it. It was like when he beat the Doctor the last time, he didn't feel much pride. Just a strange sadness.
It was an odd feeling really. "Or at least warn me before you shoot me because I can't regenerate like this. I can't! I'd just get stuck, bleeding, dying, leaking all my energy. So say."
"I wouldn't shoot you. If anything, I'd use a curse." Barty shook his head and let out a short snort, not surprisingly not an especially happy sound. "Lucy was a normal human. I've seen worse than those... Toclafane. Arguably been through worse."
He turned around and considered the Master, at the same time putting his wand away. "I wouldn't kill you. You should know that. You're all I have."
"If it didn't bother you so much, why are you acting odd? I'm not stupid. I can see it in you," the Master complained, eyes on the wand, not sure if he trusted Barty with that thing. Either way, he had no idea how he was going to get it off him so it wasn't worth obsessing over. Moving over to the cupboard by the TV, he crouched down and began to raid it for biscuits. He hadn't eaten all day or slept any so he really needed some kind of energy.
"You could have more if you wanted to have more. If you don't want to be with me or you have a better idea, say it," the Master suggested as he dropped onto the floor, biscuits in hand. "Regardless, you'll never find company as endearingly charming as mine."
"I don't think I want anyone else. I've never cared for people much, on the whole." Barty turned to look back out of the window, wondering if it actually was cold or if he just felt like it. Probably the latter. Either way, he wished there was a dignified way to just crawl under the covers in the middle of the day. It wasn't as if the Master would mind, but he would.
"This hasn't shown me anything new. But some things I'd prefer not to be reminded of." Maybe that was enough of an explanation. Whatever. He finally just headed to the bed anyway, sitting down on it and looking at his hands.
"I just upset you then? Oh good, I was worried I'd broken that brain of yours. Well, broken it more," the Master remarked as he shoved two biscuits into his mouth, struggling to eat them without crumbs overflowing. Maybe trying to shove a third in was a bad idea but he couldn't help it. The hunger was desperate and unstoppable, he always wanted more.
Gulping down his mouthful, he wiped his face on his dirty hoodie sleeve and looked up at Barty. In that moment, he did look genuinely unsure, like he wanted to do something for Barty but he didn't know what. So, instead of saying anything else, he shoved more biscuits into his mouth.
Barty glanced at the Master and lifted an eyebrow, deciding that propriety was hardly a problem here and finally just dropping onto the bed, eyes closing as he completely threw any pretense at dignity into the wind and pulled the covers over his head. Better, much better.
Once all the food was eaten and Barty had had some quiet time to relax and maybe stress out a little less, the Master waited to see if he'd get a reaction. And when he didn't get anything besides a blanket to gauge reactions from, he exhaled loudly and started to move.
Clambering onto the bed, the Master flopped vaguely onto what he was guessing was maybe Barty's legs and rested himself there, sprawling out with his hood pulled on for extra comfort. Hopefully Barty would be better soon and they could forget about this.
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With an appreciative smirk, the Master turned to Barty. Hey, it wasn't all bad. "I like to think of all my best traits, this one is my best. I'm a world class kisser."
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"One year, was it?"
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Well, until he started to kill more of them. "Then the Doctor cheated."
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"What else did you want to show me?"
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"Look at that," he gestured, clearly amused by whatever they were. "Guess what that is?"
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Just an educated guess, given his exposure to the Master's stories so far. He watched the object, trying to make sense of it, but there wasn't much about it he recognized. Metal, sure, but that wasn't exactly an observation exciting enough to state out loud. So instead he just kept looking at it, knowing from the Master's tone that there was definitely something to it that he meant to share.
"What is it?"
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Turning from them, he gave Barty a raise of his eyebrow. "Barty, meet your future. The human races last hurrah."
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He was a dark wizard, he knew the Dark Arts, but he felt none of that darkness here and perhaps that was what made it so horrifying to him. Not magic, something he understood and knew the twist things, this was something else and he wanted it to not be true.
"How many are there?"
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"I didn't do a single thing to them. He thinks I did, he thinks somehow, some way, I talked humanity into this," And part of him wished he did just so he could gloat. What a shame. "If it's any help, you'll be long long dead by the time this happens."
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But showing weakness wasn't something he had ever allowed himself and while some part of him almost thought the reflex of seeking comfort from the Master was the right one, intellectually he thought it would be a mistake. Especially while he seemed mostly gleeful about it all. So Barty decided to just turn right around and head back toward the exit. At least he could hide his face that way.
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He couldn't help it, he wanted to show them off. Hurrying after Barty, he soon caught up with them, a small frown on his face. "Want to leave? I guess we can if you're going to sulk. We may as well."
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"Let's go."
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"See, going. Happy?" The Master asked as the device started to kick in and light up furiously.
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Mostly because they deserved it. "Are you angry? Why? That's not your future."
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"I'm fine."
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It was an odd feeling really. "Or at least warn me before you shoot me because I can't regenerate like this. I can't! I'd just get stuck, bleeding, dying, leaking all my energy. So say."
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He turned around and considered the Master, at the same time putting his wand away. "I wouldn't kill you. You should know that. You're all I have."
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"You could have more if you wanted to have more. If you don't want to be with me or you have a better idea, say it," the Master suggested as he dropped onto the floor, biscuits in hand. "Regardless, you'll never find company as endearingly charming as mine."
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"This hasn't shown me anything new. But some things I'd prefer not to be reminded of." Maybe that was enough of an explanation. Whatever. He finally just headed to the bed anyway, sitting down on it and looking at his hands.
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Gulping down his mouthful, he wiped his face on his dirty hoodie sleeve and looked up at Barty. In that moment, he did look genuinely unsure, like he wanted to do something for Barty but he didn't know what. So, instead of saying anything else, he shoved more biscuits into his mouth.
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Barty glanced at the Master and lifted an eyebrow, deciding that propriety was hardly a problem here and finally just dropping onto the bed, eyes closing as he completely threw any pretense at dignity into the wind and pulled the covers over his head. Better, much better.
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Clambering onto the bed, the Master flopped vaguely onto what he was guessing was maybe Barty's legs and rested himself there, sprawling out with his hood pulled on for extra comfort. Hopefully Barty would be better soon and they could forget about this.