realityshifted | (no subject)

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doctor who (dk) the ninth doctor

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[There is a Doctor wandering the snow-covered hills on the Plane again. He's actually without his leather jacket, simply wearing a black jumper and trousers. He scans the air with his screwdriver, frowning, before bending down to scoop up some snow]

All this heat and humidity beats the ice caves on Raxacoricofallapatorius. But it's wrong. This snow ought to be melting. [he pockets the screwdriver, before packing the snow into a ball and tossing it between his hands] Wonder if it'll melt with the storm -- there's got to be one soon, the weather's perfect for it.

[pauses] Perfect if you're on Earth, anyway. Of all the planets in all the universes to choose from, why'd the Machine pick Earth for a weather simulation?

[ooc: Nine has been canon-bumped to the end of Boom Town!]

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[speaking of unhealthy, Nine is going to brood now. Eventually;] All of the above, I think. But you've got your own Doctor too, haven't you?

[speaking of brooding. He was doing well having a rather sane sounding conversation.] He's on Earth. I can smell him. But he doesn't understand anything.

He thinks it is only noise. Just insanity.

[rolls his eyes] So did I, 'til I heard it for myself.

[grins ferally] He won't ever listen. If he does he won't accept that it's real.

He'll still be spouting off sanctimonious diatribe and trying to help me. [He is so very disgusted by that thought, even in this state. Which shows just how grateful he is for what help was given. :P]

He's still me, Master. Even if he's a different incarnation, in another universe. I accepted it was real, and I helped you, didn't I?

Your help doesn't involve playing domestic in your TARDIS.

[makes a face at that] 'Course it doesn't. No domestics allowed in my TARDIS.

[This face shows how much he believes that, at least in regards to his own Doctor.] Clearly that idea is inapplicable to blonds and the only other of your species in existence when it comes to your tenth.

[Nine glances at the Master's hair. then, innocently] So that's why you went blond, then. I wondered!

[LOW BLOW NINE, LOW BLOW.] I needed a disguise. This was all I could find, I can't walk around like-[fingers through hair in frustration!]-this.

It isn't safe.

[he really can't resist] 'Course it isn't safe. Blimey, hair that colour's just saying "here I am, come and get me!"

You would be a critic. It isn't like you know anything about it. [His hands are crackling with energy again.]

[Nine frowns, grasping both of the Master's hands -- despite any damage the energy may cause to his own] Calm down, Master. I'll get you some new dye, if you like. [mostly because he knows his self will be able to find the Master no matter what colour his hair is]

[The hand holding and the smart comments about dye of all things are just a bit too much for him to leave alone. He glares and moves to jerk one hand away and direct a blast of that excess energy at his chest (if only the jacket was there to get BURNED).]

Edited 2010-08-28 00:19 (UTC)

[He tries to withstand the blast as long as he can, much as his alternate Tenth did, but eventually he collapses]

[Part of him expected that and yet another part didn't. The Master moves before his mind can fully catch up with what he's doing and he attempts to stop him from falling, arms supporting under his shoulders to keep him upright as he goes to one knee with him.]

[Speaking is rather difficult when you've just been blasted with a ton of energy, so the Doctor is just going to cough for a bit and not move. Eventually, he manages a very weak;] What the hell was that for?

[He realizes that he is now holding him up and scowls, looking over him with a look of utter disgust, whether at himself, the Doctor or both remains to be seen.]

What do you think?

[aaaaand drop!]

[Ow. :| Have a glare from the ground, Master...the Doctor would respond, but he's too busy BEING IN PAIN, thanks]

[The Master paces a moment, ignoring the glare but then sits next to him, arms propped up on his knees as he watches him.]

Do you remember back home? My father's land? It was never enough for us, even so vast as it was. [rueful laugh] We'd run in those fields all day, calling up at the sky.

[disgust, again] Look at us now.

[the Doctor's glare softens into something more distant, and a different sort of pained. he remembers.] Still...never enough, is it? I -- [he's interrupted by a fit of coughing]

I'd never try to trap you in my TARDIS.

[he gives a derisive laugh]

Wouldn't you, though? [crouches low and crawls closer to him, voice a hiss.] What would you do then? Hm? No, "The only safe place is the TARDIS." or "Having someone to care for."? Like I'm some decrepit pet to nurse back to health?

[after a long moment] You're no pet, Master. Not someone I can control, or fix. Your self taught me that lesson.

[he doesn't trust it but he decides to leave it alone for now. That answer is far better than anything else he expected.]

At least one of us could teach one of you something useful.

[he manages to roll over a bit, and glances down at his burned jumper. in a grumpy tone;] You owe me a new one.