01. And now for something completely different

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

[The Doctor is smiling happily and humming a Beatles song to himself.] Ah, The Beatles. Earth has produced quite the preeminent collection of musicians, though few compare to The Beatles. Oh, but I can't forget Miles Davis and John Coltrane, now, can I? Different favorites for different genres. I couldn't very well compare a rock 'n' roll band to jazz luminaries, it's hardly an even playing field. So to speak.

[Glancing at the food and drink he's precariously balancing in his hands, the Doctor ponders what he's currently holding.] I don't have the affinity for bacon sandwiches that Ace does, but chips are rather nice on occasion, and I must say, I do enjoy these chocolate malts. Far more delicious than carrot juice.

[At last, he realizes he's not on a street, or anywhere near Harry's Café, the place he only just left. It's hard to determine when exactly the scenery changed, but this is most certainly not where he's supposed to be. It's different, and he supposes it should be disconcerting, but with no sign of an immediate threat, he allows himself a moment to appreciate the view.] Well, this is peculiar.

Comments

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Anything is art if you have the mind for it. Except, perhaps, heroism.

[the Master starts walking to the bar, presuming that the Doctor will follow]

Of course I've seen Susan; I'd never neglect or abandon her. She's from a reality unlikely to match up with your own. Quite a few of those around here - quite a few of the roads never taken. Or rather, taken, but not in one's own particular path through the web of things. My impression is that the place is a neutral ground, that all times and all places, all universes and realities are equal here. There is a young woman who maintains that her world knows magic, and two vampires unlike anything that old hermit ever terrorised you with. All very interesting.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

[It's a reasonable assumption, evidently, since the Doctor does indeed follow. The remark about Susan causes a sharp twinge in his hearts, and he wonders how much more painful it would be to actually see her in person]

Yes, you never did see any dignity or nobility in heroism. We went our separate ways on that idea long ago.

No doubt it's all kept you enthralled. And yet with so much and so many to see, you remain ever fixated on me, don't you?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[he turns as he walks so he can walk backwards, facing the Doctor with a smile]

You know, Doctor, I'm beginning to suspect that every last one of you is obsessed with getting a love confession out of me. I worry for your self-esteem.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

[The Doctor smirks darkly]

Your actions speak far louder than your words, Master. You needn't confess anything, you've shown it time and time again. It's your obsession with me that says everything.

[calmly] Now, what will you have to drink? Your usual?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Actions speak louder than words? Oh Doctor, I really must worry.

And if you're serving, no, how about a... mm, a Dark Nebula Fizz. If you think you can make them?

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

It's true for most people, although I'm not sure that applies to me. I'm far more erudite than humans, for example, so my words and actions in conjunction seem to have far more potency than those of others. I can't always say the same for you.

[He sets what he's been carrying down. It likely won't matter, it's cold by now anyway, and he's obviously not going to get out of here anytime soon]

Of course. And will you pontificate while I make drinks?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Only if I feel certain that you want to hear my voice and won't interrupt my eulogising.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

[...dubious]

And you're hoping I will announce aloud that I want to hear your voice?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

I was hoping more for something on the subject of eulogistic interruptions. Drinks, Doctor! Don't get distracted.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

I believe those are a guarantee. [So he smirks. He can't help it. He really shouldn't, because this version of the Master seems even more intent on tormenting him, but well. He smirks]

And what will be the topic of your eulogizing today, or can I expect a wide range of disconnected subjects?

[As instructed, he makes drinks. Extra 'fizz' for the Master]

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

If eulogies are for the dead, I suppose I could talk about our friendship.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

[That would hurt regardless, but the fact that it's true makes it sting far more, the words sinking in the chambers of his hearts]

You could.

[You should. You shouldn't]

It's certainly a lengthy, involved topic. Even dead, as you say it is, we haven't yet reached a moratorium on discussion of it.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Oh, I know. When you get older, you'll talk about it all the time. "We were friends once! Why must we fight now? What happened to my friend?"

It's sickening. At least I only had to endure it briefly with you.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

Yes, at least you were spared that. I would hate to lament ad nauseam about a topic you so clearly disdain, and regard as non-existent.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

If you go on like that, Doctor, you will sour the drink you are making.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

Well, that won't do. [Sighs quietly, quickly finishes the task at hand and pushes the drink towards the Master]

I wonder if the combination of fresh lime and ginger beer would clash, or be an unexpected delight.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[takes the drink] If this is spiked with ginger beer, I must note that dubious consent isn't consent at all.

[and he throws back far too much of the drink in one large gulp]

Not bad, for you.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

[The Doctor takes his own sip, clearly satisfied with the taste]

Much improved since our Academy days, I do believe.

[Another sip]

Far more jarring going down than tea. But one doesn't drink this sort of thing to relax.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

No, not at all. The fizz keeps you on your toes, doesn't it?

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

Yes, quite like a few other things. You, in particular.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Oh, Doctor, I'm flattered! I didn't think you'd come out and say it, but would prefer to dance around the implication.

[raises his glass to the Doctor]

To your toes, then, and trying not to trip over them.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

I don't find it to be any powerful confession by admitting what we both already know: you continue to shadow me across the universe, and though it may be decades between visits, I'm constantly reminded of your presence, your power, your influence in my life.

[Takes a sip of his drink, a dark expression on his face]

It's a fact that I can never elude you, and have yet to completely best you.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

You make a man swoon with your words, Doctor.

[clearly, he isn't swooning, but the Master seems pleased regardless as he drinks]

I think I like this you; you paint it all so poetically.

[timewill-tell.livejournal.com]

[Rather than reacting, the Doctor takes a few steps to the left, then back to the right, feeling restless]

Isn't there a human saying about words being loaded pistols? It seems only right that words, if they are so powerful, should be beautiful when they hit you, and hurt you, and linger in your soul.

[Another sip]

Do you suppose, then, that words might be one of the only true constants? We remember them when we forget all else.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Now that isn't true. You remember how to walk, to breathe, to think, though perhaps not precisely as it was before. Language is along those lines.

And I could make a really bad crack about Christianity right now, but you haven't got to the stage where you really deserve to be taunted about your Messiah Complex, not quite yet.