To say he was impressed with her unforeseen take would not do justice to the amount of awe that it caused him to feel. One key tell arose, like always, in the form of a facial expression – the crucial feature that gave a peek into the Master’s mercurial temperament. And right now, in this present moment, he felt… surprisingly inspired.
Perfectly set up for a massive fall.
A hand goes to his mouth before any sort of response comes forth, his spindly digits thoughtfully stroking a chin that showed signs of stubble forming. He kept up this action even as the Doctor drew closer, noses almost touching. Oh, how he missed standoffs like this!!!
“Careful, Doctor. You’re starting to sound just like THEM.” As tongue danced fitfully between clenching teeth, he spat the preposition out with enough vitriol to hint at whom he balefully referred to. “I prefer it like this.” He wouldn’t revoke his license to cause destruction and death for any reason, not even the Doctor’s immense capacity to forgive and turn the other would dissuade him.
Or so he keeps telling himself, anyway.
“But I will admit, it is… a comfort to know that we are in agreement on Gallifrey.” A funny little smile hooked at his mouth, tugging it sideways. “Of course it means we’re the last of the Time Lords again. How tragic.”
It took a fair amount of determination to take that little verbal punch to the face - a thousand questions flitted into her mind in rapid succession. At the forefront: was surviving meant to be a punishment or a reward? Following the Master’s train of thought was like following a particularly skittish rabbit down a warren - the best way forward was on instinct. “Am I?” she asked calmly. “What is it you keep saying, Master? That we’re the same? Now, why don’t you ask yourself how sure you are of that?”
The Doctor’s voice softens, but becomes no less menacing. “Oh, yes, paint me as a hapless monstrosity in your narrative all you like, Master. Because if you keep asking for it, one day, you’re going to get it, and you’re not going to like it. Or maybe you will,” she amended. “You’ve always been twisted. Tell me,” the Doctor demanded suddenly, mockingly - “would you like it if I brought you to heel?” The smug smirk on her face dared him to figure out how to answer the extremely loaded question. “I could, you know. There’s no one who could or would hold me accountable. Probably wouldn’t even feel bad about it. You’ve been incredibly naughty.”
yousharknotpass
izzy806
titsay
janainaart
germansingergirl