empty in the valley of your heart

[cricketycricket]

[when the sun comes up through the windows, that's the Doctor's first clue that the castle is up to its tricks - normally, in the TARDIS, he's not woken by the onset of light, he just ... wakes up whenever he wants.

so at first he's completely up for this, curious as he sits up in the bed he's been placed in. no TARDIS, that's fine - he'll be alright without the old girl and she can handle herself. but it looks like a normal castle room ... ]

Hm.

[well, nothing for it. he gets to his feet and stretches - then turns to survey the rest of the room and realizes who's sleeping on the other side of the --

oh no. Rassilon's earlobes, NO. he is NOT staring at a sleeping Master. he's just NOT.

except he totally is.]


Well, damn.

Comments

[cricketycricket]

I highly doubt anyone would be open to the concept of serving as your maid. [he shoots him an amused yet perturbed look over his shoulder as he dumps the Garland out over the sill.]

[traken_master]

You'd be surprised what people can be talked into, my dear Doctor.

[The Master tosses out his own load, giving the Doctor a wide grin.]

[cricketycricket]

I've known you how long? [he dusts his hands and turns away, to gather more decorations]

Trust me, I doubt I'd be surprised.

[traken_master]

Almost my entire life, so you should know better than to challenge me on such an issue. I'm fairly certain I'll find better things to do than change sheets.

[The Master considers not helping, just to prove a point, but the decorations truly are ghastly, so he gathers up more to be rid of.]

[cricketycricket]

You never know, it could be quite enriching. [now he's just being difficult, grinning as he gathers up some ridiculous heart-shaped throw pillows]

[traken_master]

Why do humans consider an organ that pumps blood, a lump of meat, to be a symbol of sexual and emotional desire?

[He's not dignifying that bit of flippancy with a response, Doctor.]

[cricketycricket]

Actually, that stylized heart shape wasn't originally meant to be a heart, it's the shape of silphium fennel. [he holds a pillow out at arm's length and considers it]

Mind you, it was hardly actually red. But silphium was harvested to extinction by the Romans as a rather popular means of, [ahem] oral contraception. So I should think that would solve the mystery rather nicely as to the symbolism.

How it came to be seen as anything remotely resembling a heart, however, is entirely beyond me.

[traken_master]

Indeed it does. I have a theory for that last: humans are silly and poorly educated. Frankly, I don't find contraceptives particularly alluring either. Necessary, depending on the species and gender of my lover, but hardly romantic or erotic.

[cricketycricket]

Most of them are, yes, but on occasion some will surprise you. [he's just going to ignore the fact that a conversation about the Master's sex life just tried to get started, and toss the pillows out the window too]

There. Now the rest of it will at least have a soft landing.

[traken_master]

On a very rare occasion...perhaps. Jo Grant was charming enough and Tegan Jovanka wasn't so very bad, if not the brightest.

[The Master tossed out another armful, including the candy pink, silk sheets.]

How polite of you to provide that for them.

[cricketycricket]

Now, now. Tegan had her mome--- [wait a second. he grins incredulously] … Do you mean to tell me you've, in no certain terms, been scoring my companions?!

[traken_master]

Scoring, Doctor? [The comment is full of contempt for the very idea.] Hardly. However, since you persist in parading any number of them in front of me, it's almost impossible not to form an opinion of at least some of them.

[cricketycricket]

If it's a parade, then you're the motorist ignored the detour and tried to take the normal route anyway. [point being, he never hunts him down to say "HEY, LOOK AT MY NEW FRIENDS" ... it's always a case of the Master imposing himself upon his life, his companions, and never the other way around]

[traken_master]

[That might be part of the problem really. He doesn't like being ignored, Doctor.]

Perhaps so. [He shrugs.] I don't see why, however, I should change my habits to accomodate them.

[cricketycricket]

[well, he may just have to deal with it anyway. there's an awful lot between them to simply be water beneath the bridge] And so you imply that I should be the one to change and accomodate? [he snorts lightly] Hardly.

[traken_master]

Oh, not at all, my dear Doctor! [The Master assures him of this with a shark's smile.] In fact, I'm quite content with things as they are! [Lies.]

[cricketycricket]

Excellent, glad to hear it. [and he'll just ... continue gathering things up as though he DIDN'T know that was a tremendously bad lie]

[traken_master]

[The Master can't help chuckling.]

Of course, I do have to wonder at your motives, when it comes to your traveling companions. They seem, mostly, to be young, pretty, and not terribly bright.

[cricketycricket]

Well, it isn't as though I hold auditions, you know. They're almost always in the wrong place at the wrong time. I thought you'd have figured that out by now.

[traken_master]

Really? So, it's simply coincidence and fate that almost all of your companions are beautiful girls, barely out of adolescence, with, mostly, just enough brains to admire how brilliant you are? Not a single, crusty old man or woman in the bunch? No dried up old school teacher, with a droning voice? Oh, believe me, Doctor, I've noticed.

[cricketycricket]

As a matter of fact, it is. [he scowls. look, it's not his fault that the WRITERS of canon are leches.] I don't think I care for what you're insinuating.

[traken_master]

[The Master gives him a bland smile.]

Insinuating, my dear Doctor? I'm insinuating nothing about you and your precious little herd of children. In fact, I believe this conversation began with my admission that not all of them were bad.

[cricketycricket]

[he breathes in, slowly, his nostrils flaring EVER so slightly. so this is how it's going to be.]

Right, then. You have fun disposing of the rest.

[and he'll just wander over to a chair and pull a well-loved paperback novel out of his coat, followed by his brainy specs. you're on mute. have fun with that]

[traken_master]

[Most of the decorations are gone, anyway, so the Master abandons cleaning, in favor of sitting across from the Doctor in a chair backwards. Leaning forward, the Master rests his chin on his crossed arms and studies his best, much annoyed, enemy.]

You don't seem to care much for matching wits in this regeneration. It makes me miss your third self. He could be sharp-tempered, but at least he brought some relish to our game.

[cricketycricket]

[he'll ignore him for the span of a few pages, then answer without looking up]

I've told you - this is Paradisa, not the world at large. The game has changed somewhat.