neverwouldiever | Crosscountry

When the Doctor had stumbled upon this conspiracy, he hadn't known who could be behind it, not right away. But slowly he figured things out and eventually he even managed to look behind the mysterious pseudonym 'Terasm'. The Master. Of course. But further investigation had also had him find out that this wasn't just any Master, this was a regeneration quite a while back and all things considered, that did send him through a mess of thoughts and doubts and, not least of all, emotions that he didn't know how to deal with.

In the end his plan wasn't very well thought out, but he snuck inside the palace - a palace temple, seriously? of course - and then he ended up in what only someone very deluded would actually refer to as a bedroom, it was something a lot more needlessly pompous. And there the Master was, apparently sound asleep. The Doctor cocked his head and watched him for a while, then he reached out to shake his shoulder, at the same time leaning down to whisper into his ear.

"No screaming. I have a bomb." Well. He didn't, but he could have had one.

The one time he allowed himself to get a little cocky and sleep during a plan was the one time he got ambushed. Well, no, he got ambushed a lot in his life but that wasn't really the point he was trying to make here. He had very much been lacking of foresight really, to fall asleep like that. Without remembering to put the guards on night duty. His eyes opened almost as soon as he was shook and really? Out of everything that was happening? He was very much offended that anyone could believe he'd scream. He was a fully grown man.

"Well," the Master started, slowly pushing himself up onto his elbows, eyes never leaving the strange fellow in front of him. "This was a very foolish thing for you to do, now wasn't it?"

He sincerely hoped it was a timed bomb with lots of nice wires he could disable otherwise this could be a very unfortunate end to a perhaps needlessly complicated plan to lure the Doctor. "You do realise that you're making a very power enemy today and threatening a man of great power. No, actually, you're threatening a God. With an army."

Edited 2014-11-17 21:23 (UTC)

"Oh, well, you have a point. But I'm not overly worried to tell you the truth. See, I consider myself an atheist, more or less. Agnostic, at least. I've met some gods and even more that thought they were gods, but I never saw much reason to believe in them one way or another." The Doctor smiled a friendly smile, holding a device in one hand that did a whole lot of things, but it definitely wasn't a bomb. Mostly it blinked and even ticked, because he liked the sound. Made it seem more bomb-like somehow.

"But, please, dear god, while we're at it, how about you sit up and put your hands in front of you like you're praying?"

Pretty simple plan he had, really, but it appeared to be working so far. He reached up with his free hand, tugging at his tie. "Don't make me blow us all up. I'd really hate having to do that."

Oh great, a lunatic with a bomb. Just what he needed to thwart his brilliant plan. A lunatic with terrible fashion sense and a strange peculiar feeling, he was convinced he knew him but he couldn't place where. A rebel, perhaps? Or a man he upset somewhere along the line? Either way, the Master was a great many things but when it came down to it, he was a survivor. And if there was a mad man with a bomb then he was very swift to do as he was told.

To a degree, anyway. He did sit upright but instead of putting his hands in a praying position, he held them up defensively. Well, he wasn't going to give in that much to some casual fly by night terrorist.

"Now, come on, we can be reasonable men about this. Tell me, what in the name of the universe has possessed you to believe that blowing me, or perhaps us, up is in anyway a good plan?" the Master negotiated, glad he slept somewhat fully clothed otherwise this would have been even more awkward. Perhaps he could distract him and leap from the window? Not a long fall. He could come back with his army and lynch the fool.

The Doctor tugged his tie free and looked at the Master's hands, arching an eyebrow and tilting the hand that held the bomb in a wordless threat. He didn't want a struggle and he did want to tie those hands together, so the Master should get a move on.

"Who's talking about good? It's going to be grand. Explosions generally are. Well. When I'm causing them, anyway." The Doctor considered for a moment, then he started to pat himself down. "If the bomb is not enough, I do have a knife somewhere that I could use to hurt you." He didn't, but he knew how much the Master liked to avoid pain. Not that he could blame him, but he definitely didn't hesitate with using it against him.

"Hands in front of you. Once that is dealt with we can talk about everything. Promise."

The knife was enough of a threat, especially given this man's casual disregard for him and his attempts at trying to negotiate. Threatening didn't work, kind words didn't either so it looked like submitting. And he loathed submitting. He couldn't have looked any more pissed off if he tried, reluctantly closing his hands together into a paying motion, eyes on the tie with mistrust. What good was an escape plan if his hands were tied? And besides, front tying? Really? How crude.

"Threatening and bullying? Oh, it's all rather childish, isn't it?" Says the man who does it on a day to day basis. With a rather annoyed frown on his face, he watched the strange, still trying to work out where he knew such a man from. If he even knew him. He was certain there was something there that was sparking something in him.

"If you insist, then I will do what you ask but I do request that you remain civil and so shall I."

"It all rather depends on your definition of civil I reckon." The Doctor sounded quite calm and just a little amused as he put the bomb, well, the quasi-bomb, down on the ground and started to tie the Master's hand together, first looping the tie around both wrists and then cinching it in the middle a couple of times, making sure to still have the long end hanging off. He grabbed that, using it like a lead as he looked up and smiled. "Your taste in furniture just had to be as pompous as everything else, huh?"

Good for him in this case, because it meant that he could drag him up, off the bed and then down to the foot of it, only so he could reach up and use his height to tie the tie off to the top of the bedpost. He looked down to see whether the Master could still stand and when he saw that he could he tugged on it a bit more, so he'd have to get on his tiptoes. Or kneel on the bed, he supposed, if he preferred that.

There had been a reason for tying his hands in front. "Now, where did I put that knife?"

This was not civil. In case he was at all dumb enough to believe it was, it wasn't. No sane or civil man came into the house of a man who claimed to be a God, who had a whole army at his feet, and tied him up like this. Oh, when morning came and his guards arrived, he was going to launch a war on this man. Tear him into pieces and laugh while it happens. Oh yes, he'd so laugh! This was what he thought about during the whole humiliating process of being bound and dragged around like a slave.

"You do realise that you will not escape punishment for this?" the Master felt the need to remind him of that as the tie was tugged and he had to awkward stand on his tiptoes to stay upright. He swayed a little, a stubborn glare on his face, preparing to launch into a full speech about manners, respect and how this little imp should obey him.

It all died at the mention of the knife. "You're-- you're really not helping your case. A threat against me is a declaration of war."

"You've already told me I won't escape punishment, so I reckon I might as well make it worth my while." The Doctor started to unbutton the Master's shirt, given he didn't actually have a knife with him, but then something occurred to him and he stopped, looking around searchingly. Finally he settled on one of the pillows and he pulled off the pillowcase, rolling it up as he approached the Master again. He wrapped it around his head, making sure the cloth covered his eyes completely. Better.

He flicked the Master's nose after having tied the makeshift blindfold off and then he continued on with unbuttoning his shirt, until he could finally step back and pull out his screwdriver, using just the very tip, cool metal that it was, to draw a line down the middle of the Master's chest. That should be enough to fool someone who expected a knife.

"Do gods bleed?"

"Well, we might be able to negotiate, you can never be too sure of the outcomes. I just ask you not to be impulsive, it's the mark of a foolish man," the Master was basically just saying words at this point, trying to convince this mad man who was currently removing his pillowcase with an oddly ominous air. All the more confirmed when the blindfold was pulled on and he was very much in the dark on what was happening to him.

That cold metal. The clear threat. Oh yes, it was very much enough to kill his resolve. As it turned out, yes, Gods truly do bleed. Or he would anyway. And he really didn't want to lose this body, he desperately needed it.

"N-Now, come on, we can negotiate things," the Master tried, feeling a little less confident in escaping. "What do you want? Money? Power? ... To be a God? I can give you all these things! And more! But you have to untie me."

"Well, you've already implied that I'm not sane, but I'm definitely not that thick, either. If I untied you and if all the threat was gone, what reason would you have to do anything for me other than probably think of a very painful death?" The Doctor slowly led the screwdriver lower still, across his old enemy's and older friend's stomach until he reached his pajama bottoms, not yet going past the waistband.

"So I might as well do the same while I have the chance. A very painful death for you?" Oh, that was mean. The Doctor knew it was mean, but it was difficult to resist, knowing that he'd never follow through on it. But scaring the Master, just for a little while... Well. It held an appeal. It definitely did. "I'm not being impulsive. Trust me, I've spent a lot of time thinking about this."

"You're a very clever man, I'll give you that but you really shouldn't threaten me. Think about the power I have here, the things I could do for you. You're clearly a determine and cunning fellow, I could employ you!" the Master suggested but when the luke warm response basically said what didn't need saying, he ball his hands into fists and a look of desperation and frustration came to him.

As soon as the knife was on his waistband, he tried to sway himself back and he knew very much so that he had to try and appeal to this vain morons ego to get himself out of this trap. From now onwards, he was sleeping with weapons in his bed. And guards. And a cannon outside!

"Please, you're being entirely unreasonable! How dare you," he started, trying to sound angry but it just came out a little pathetic and the more he tried to free himself, the tighter it out. He just wanted to lash out but obviously, that'd get him nowhere. "Leave now! And I will not pursue you, promise. I'll stay here and let you leave if you disarm the bomb and go!"

"In all fairness, you have to admit. If I left here without disarming the bomb, you still won't pursue me. On accounts of being blown up." The Doctor was enjoying this too much and there was part of him that felt guilty, but the knowledge that the Master would do far worse were there positions reversed and the certainty that if the Master had figured out his identity yet, he'd complain just as much, but enjoy this far more made it easy to keep this pretense going for a bit more. It was fun, after all.

He pulled the Master's trousers down slowly and the screwdriver kept trailing along every inch of revealed skin. And then before he could entirely think it through, the Doctor had leaned forward, closed the distance between them, and there he was, kissing him. It was at that moment, well, actually quite a while into that moment, that there was an audible 'ding' and the ticking that had been coming from the quasi-bomb finally stopped. The Doctor pulled away just enough to chuckle. "Would you look at that? My bomb went off."

Ainley!Master

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