kore_logs | A Meeting of the Minds

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A Meeting of the Minds

Who: the Master, the Doctor
Where: Mina's house
When: Day 83
What: A mentally unstable Doctor requests the aid from an old friend.
Warnings: None yet, but plenty of Time Lord angst

Mina was awfully trusting to keep the Doctor at her house, but the truth was, he wasn't able to be on his own. The impulse headaches weren't stopping, and his head pounded, like his skull was being cracked open so very slowly. He couldn't focus on any particular thought very long, and his regenerations and time lines blurred faster than riding a bullet train.

The scientists hadn't taken lightly of the Doctor's attempt at escaping, and he couldn't decide if it was out of retaliation or fear, that they explored his mind. He couldn't remember details or anything that happened, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to.

Skin hot and feverish, he waited until Donna had gone away to send a message with the little energy he could muster to hold onto his sanity. "I need... I need to see you... now." He hoped he sent it to the right person -- or correctly -- Time Lord.

For a while he paced the room, but the pain continued to defeat him, where he stayed in the corner of the room, bent over on his knees, short nails digging into his scalp. He would find him. The Master always, annoyingly enough, found him. The Doctor just hoped he wouldn't ignore him, as he was his only hope of settling this.

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"I think it was actually 95 that I stopped," the Master shot back as he swiftly weaved in and out of the Doctor's mind. There was a definite rift in his mind, a wound that was oozing out confusion and skittering about all the memories into each other. It was a trauma that lead to this whole mess, a scar on the inside of his mind. Rather painful actually.

As the Doctor got better, the Master got considerably worse. Trying to repair one mind and keep the other at bay was a strain to his senses but he refused to retreat this early. The drums were getting loud, making everything near vibrate from the bass of them.

"It must be nice, mustn't it? All you have to do is move around and have a little spring cleaning and the wounds lessen. It's so easy, so very easy. Stupidly easy," the Master spat with bitterness as he came to a halt near the centre, flickers of Gallifrey swimming by. All of their youth and better times. How he loathed knowing that he could never feel that level of happiness again. "Have you noticed the pattern yet? Cause I have just looking at your memories. You're always fine in the end, no matter what. But me? No, I don't get that. I just lose. In every way."

He forced his barriers back once more, moving away from the Doctor. Just a bit more and he could retreat. Blissfully at that. "It's not fair. None of this is. You don't deserve these memories, you're no better than me. Why do you get to be happy?"

"Because I choose to be, in the end," The Doctor quickly shoved back memories away as they attempted to collide with them. The drums had become much louder, he couldn't deny that as even he had to raise his voice to make it past the noise. "I once had a friend tell me that pain and loss define us as much as happiness or love. I believe she was right." Hands were placed on either side of the Master's shoulders.

"But I choose to see the positive aspect of the universe and give its creations the benefit of the doubt. Despite all the wrong against me. Including this, I have people to live for." He bent down slightly, leveling him to the Master, "I think I can handle the rest from here. You better leave before your own barriers crumble. I don't know whether I can fix that if that were to happen."

"You get to chose though. Options are closed to men like me. I'd say you'd understand but obviously you don't," the Master pulled away from the Doctor, glaring stubbornly at the resolving mind. He'd fixed it, he knew how to help any Time Lord heal themselves-- but why couldn't he just fix his own? Couldn't it just be that simple? Sometimes, it just seemed like the universe was conspiring.

"I'm defined by the drums. They've shaped everything I am or could of ever been," the Master informed the Doctor, life wasn't just as simple with this mayhem inflicted on his mind. "Though honestly? I think being without the drums wouldn't even make me a better person. Perhaps I was always just doomed to be alone and bitter. The signs were there from the start."

With a slight nod, the Master knew that retreating was the wise move here. Why stick around when neither of them would be able to cope if he was to accidentally lose his hold on the barriers. And yet he didn't seem to be leaving. "I wonder how bad the damage would be if I just let go. Would we both be in eternal agony-- or would we feel nothing after such a psychic trauma?"

"It would be catastrophic." The Doctor knew the Master wouldn't do it, he still had a light grasp of sanity.... didn't he? The Doctor had previously stated he didn't think he would be able to fix it. Correction: He wouldn't be able to, plain and simple. There would be no coming back from the damage, no hope of recovery, not even from a self induced healing coma or regeneration. If Mina and Donna thought the Doctor was bad now, they wouldn't be able to recognize him if this were to happen.

"Don't even play with the idea, you run the risk of actually doing it." The Master had always been stronger and better than him when it came to the touch-telepathy, and in his weakened state, it was even harder for him to have a decent grasp of his power. Right now, even he couldn't push the Master out, he would have to leave on his own. "You helped me - that alone shows you not all is lost and hopeless."

The Master rotated his neck in a circle, clearly taking a brief moment to contemplate it. Perhaps he wouldn't do it but the knowledge that he had all the power here? Well, that was the boost he needed. With a slight smile on his face, the Master stood there and embrace what little moment he may have had, capable of crushing both of them if he must. It was a good back up plan if he should ever find himself needing them both gone.

"I suppose I shouldn't. Future generations might look upon me as moronic for not taking this chance to stop us both but-- well, what would the universe be without us there to ruin it?" the Master pointed out as he closed his eyes and let himself pull back. It seemed a wise enough plan. He best leave before he got any worse.

"You're lucky I'm in a good humour," Was all he offered before he began to retreat, his body fading from the Doctor's view. When he next opened his eyes, he'd be back in the room.

Dark eyes slowly opened, and the Doctor was remained sitting on the bed. Everything felt fuzzy initially, but then... a remote sense of clarity. He still wasn't 100%, but that will hopefully come with time. But now he could at least recognize what regeneration he was without having to think extensively about it.

"You did it." The Doctor commented softly, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't feel like clawing at his skull for the first time since coming back, and perhaps could finally function like normal. It was somewhat ironic, given he had come back just the previous day, but the insanity was unbearable. He couldn't imagine if he hadn't contacted the Master any sooner, what he'd be like.

Probably a bit like the Master. And the universe didn't need two of them. The Master gripped his head in his hands, hissing in pain. Keeping those barriers up did a number on his head, it was kind of like that time he tried to down more hyper-vodkas than Drax and ended up vomiting the whole evening and spending the morning with a splitting headache.

A hangover without actually having some fun. Just what he needed.

"Good for you. Enjoy the sanity," the Master remarked with a slight roll of his eyes. The dolt was all well and good again, he supposed this favour would be forgotten during his next little 'mistake'. That was how they worked. "You could pay me back by getting some food now. Least you can do."

"Lie down. I'll go see what I can find." The Doctor stands up, but had to catch the Master before toppling over. He had been without food for so long, his body was not taking kindly to the change. The Master may have noticed he was thinner than before.

"It'll be a moment, but I'm sure I can find something." He spoke with false confidence given tea and whatever Donna had baked was really their only option. It wasn't like Mina needed to cook.

And his fingers slowly released from the Master's arm as he took a few steps towards the door, his strength coming back with each step. Would it be ironic that he felt ancient and this whole mess had taken alot out of him?

The Master caught up with the Doctor, heaving a sigh of annoyance at how stupid this man was. If he didn't stick by him, he might accidentally kill himself. Wouldn't it be bloody typical if he fixed the Doctor just for him to trip over, bash his head and regenerate. "Lets not totally undo my hard work for some lunch. We'll go together."

He didn't reach out to steady him, he just walked near him as a potential steadier. Really, he was a little busy trying to calm his headache. The drums so weren't helping that matter either.

"Find me something quick to eat then go sleep. I'm sure I can amuse myself from here on out, I'm shockingly good at that."

With a silent nod, as this was the most walking he had done since being back and he needed his full concentration on it, he continued. One foot in front of the other, and finally he made his way in the hallway, to the stairs and then made descent and to the kitchen.

"There. Have at it." There was some tea made and what appeared to be some biscuits on a plate.

The biscuits didn't last long. The poor things were eaten in a blink of an eye, no chance for the Doctor to get one. He really wasn't kidding when he said was hungry. With a slight hum of disinterest, he turned to the Doctor and gave him a slight frown. That was legitimately it? Rubbish. "Next time get something better? Maybe even microwave something."

Was that so hard? With an eyeroll, he stalked around the place they were in, curious as to who's place they were actually in. "Is this yours or -- a friend? Do you still have friends or do they all want you dead yet? I believe the general consensus is that you're a giant dick lately."

"A friend... who doesn't need food like we do." Actually, Mina was a little more than a friend to the Doctor, but the Master didn't need to know that. He wasn't sure how things were between them anyhow, and that would have to be talked about at some point.

He chose to ignore the Master's last comment, because that was something he would very much have to deal with, being back. Slowly, he sipped at a hot cup of tea, leaning against the counter. Both hands were on the mug, like his life depended on it. "I don't suppose I have very many friends left, no." It wouldn't surprise him; didn't surprise him if he was the most hated person here. The Doctor had gone mad with ideals and power, and it didn't work. He endangered the lives of the entire town, and thankfully Mina informed him no one had died. But now he had lost all credibility and would have to remember that.

"Well that's never a good thing," Eating food, on some level or another, was near universal. So when someone didn't, that always left him side-eyeing said person. And, of course, he had a funny feeling this person wasn't really a sociable type. And, since they were friends with the Doctor, probably a women.

"Oh well, I have none and it's never bothered me much," the Master confessed as he too sipped his tea, eyeing the empty plate with dismay. Tea was better than nothing really. "Plus everyone always forgives you, you'll be fine. You could kill everyone here and someone would forgive you. If you memories stand for anything, should be possible."

Hell, was there anything the Doctor's companions couldn't look passed? It was annoying.

The Doctor rolled his eyes at that statement. That hardly had any truth, and perhaps seemed that way due to the fact the Doctor was capable of running away from said problems. Not this time; no, he was stuck here and stuck with an angry lot of people.

But then... no one truly tried to stop him. Donna came close with some painful things being said, but as far as someone physically trying to stop him? No one. Not a single person. Maybe everyone was just as desperate as him to try and escape.

"No matter now." He sighed and stretched out his back. "It's all over and we're completely stuck here." Until the next attempt, at least.

"Well, I will point out that I did warn you. A lot actually. It was one of my first acts," the Master pointed out with a small sigh. It was just making a point that he did actually try to help. He'd been doing that a lot lately... he seriously needed to do something about that. He was becoming a little too soft. Having tea with his enemy? Very much like thirteen regeneration.

But hey, at least time didn't actually end this time. It was fortunate, at least.

"You were a world class dick, by the way. Did I say that yet? I really mean it. Should of zapped you harder," the Master remarked as he downed more tea. Why not be honest?

"Alot of people warned me." The Doctor muttered, taking a final sip of the tea before placing the cup on the counter. His stomach still wasn't in the right state for much intake of foodstuffs yet, and he realized tea wasn't the best of items to use for energy. Silently, he mulled over the idea of trying toast later...

"You're not better, I might add." He side-eyed the Master, replying bitterly. "Is this what you do? Be nice for five minutes and then become insecure and push others away?"

"I'm worse, Doctor. So much worse. I nearly destroyed that lovely little planet of yours just to find my drums. I still have no regrets but I do believe we're in a similar league together," the Master remarked though he was willing to admit that he had no good intentions. He just wanted to know what they were and he was willing to destroy everything to get that knowledge. But, as ever, it didn't work out that way.

"I saved them. I did it. And they still didn't want me. I'm that diseased. Death is all over me, always has been," the Master sneered as he turned to the Doctor with a less than amused look. "People are better away from me. Wouldn't you agree?"

"We are not in a similar league!" The Doctor snapped, hating when the Master would be in these delusions and trying to bring him down to his level of insanity. Perhaps the Doctor was there after this incident, that much he'd tease the notion of, but as far as personal character and motivations they couldn't be any more different from each other.

And finally, with a cold look, "When you're like this, yes."

"I'm always like this," the Master snapped in annoyance, shoving the tea aside so he didn't accidentally break the cup in anger. He had some level of consideration at least. What did the Doctor want from him? To be a completely different man in a click of a finger? He would never be that. He could help and he could assist, play the role of useful. But in the end? He was this. A bitter angry man.

"How would you be? Tell me, oh great Doctor, how would you be if you could barely think from morning to night? Every moment, every second? It hurts so much, like something smash at my skull. And, to make it even better, imagine that thing that once gave you purpose through the torment meant nothing. It's all just a lie to make you some pawn in a grand plan," The Master gripped the table, snarling his words out in anger. He hated when the Doctor spoke down to him like this, like he understood and knew better. Like he ever could. His body flashed, his skull exposed to the Doctor in a horrible silhouette of blue.

"Tell me honestly. that you'd be full of love and happiness and I'll change my ways."

"Stop it." The Doctor warned, "I'm not arguing with you; we're not going to wake up Mina or upset Donna. I'm in no state to fight you." The Doctor was trying to diffuse the situation. It didn't take a brain surgeon to know that the Master would barely have to even push the Doctor and he'd topple over. He was far too weak both physically and mentally.

He knew the Master was broken, and knew even better being in his own crazed state just how he was poorly coping. The Doctor barely was capable of it himself. "Now calm down."

"Always an excuse," the Master mocked but, hell, he wasn't about to explode. Sometimes he just had to yell and stomp around like a toddler. It kept him sane. After a few more deep breaths, his body calmed and he let go of the table. This had been an awfully long say, perhaps he was tired. Would make sense why he was feeling very touchy.

"I wouldn't get so mad if you didn't talk down to me," the Master informed him as he ran his fingers through his hair, sounding much calmer than he'd been. "Don't talk to me like I should be something I'm not. You know who I am and I would of thought, considering what you've experience, that you'd understand me just a small bit."

"I do understand you, you just refuse to listen." The Doctor sighed and walked past him to sit at the table as standing was taking too much energy from him.

"Look, I don't know what you want me to say or do," He throws an arm over the back of the chair, looking up to the Master, "But I'm grateful for your help. I'd at least think this would bring us closer to understanding each other, yeah?"

"That's so beautifully ironic coming from you," the Master said with a smirk on his face, unable to believe the Doctor was telling him to listen. "You had over a thousand years to simply listen to me-- and you wouldn't do it till you were scared and desperate. Imagine if you'd listened when we were boys?"

Then perhaps his future could of changed. Everyone would of known and accepted it was real. Instead, he was simply deemed mad. "You can't say or do anything. Neither can I. We both have to accept that we may never communicate like sane or rational people. If we did, we wouldn't be Time Lords."

There was no such thing as functional or normal when it came to socialising Time Lords.

Edited 2013-06-24 22:35 (UTC)

With a purse of his lips and a brief nod, the Doctor had to agree with the Master on that notion, especially given his experiences with the High Council and neither of them were ever quite in the favor of it at any point. But that was a rant for another day if it were ever to come up.

"Where are you staying?" The Doctor changes the subject. He could only imagine in what poor sod had to put up with him, if he even lived in one of the houses.

"Outside mostly, I don't sleep much anyway," the Master pointed out with a slight shrug. "I have a 'home' here but there's a loud blond thing in there so I tend to avoid it. I'm hoping she'll clear off soon. Perhaps I could make use of the space. I'm thinking of doing a little tinkering."

And in what universe was that ever a good sign? Well, none. None at all. The Master had a habit of spiralling from earnest tinkering to evil master plans quicker than most men possibly could. "I'm so bored here. The most excitement here was when you tore apart this place."

A Meeting of the Minds

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