#tempusdominion

The Doctor not only got a chance to finally be alone and away from Dean and Gwen, but he also managed to revert back to his eleventh face. Though, he felt weird as he was still in his twelfth face's clothes, which were tight and also too big. Really, the Time Lord was a mess walking, but he figured that no one would mind. Plus, he was certain that everyone would ignore it and consider it normal anyhow. Straightening the coat, he blindly made a turn into a room he ​almost​ didn't recognise. That was until he heard a roar. "Oh... heh, hello.. Erm, I don't really speak tiger so you'll have to forgive me, uhm.." the Doctor scratched his head before whirling around in a circle and stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a ticking. "Oh, not the Clockwork Drones again! I just left tha-​oh​." He paused and stared down what seemed to be an explosive. "Well, I think I'd rather the drones."

The Master had explored the upper decks, which had proved disappointingly Doctor-less. The lower decks of the ship, however, were intriguing - their dimensions were warped; though whether that was a function of this universe, or a function of the damaged TARDIS, he wasn't sure. He could sense that both the Doctor and the hybrid clone were somewhere in these lower levels, however, most likely along with the TARDIS, which meant that really, all the exciting action was here. So down it was! He couldn't say he was disappointed to leave the pathetic human rabble to their own mundane, boring, pathetic little lives. It took some exploring through some terribly boring storerooms, when he heard a snarl, and a roar. Fascinating. Some of the humans had been gibbering about a tiger on board - he supposed that it wasn't entirely a figment of their imaginations. He'd been about to investigate, when he heard another voice - one that he'd never heard, but which flared bright and harsh across his senses. The Doctor. Definitely. No doubt whatsoever. Breaking into a run, he sprinted around the corner and into the room that the voice had emanated from, before slowing to a more dignified walk. "Well," he said. "Look what we have here."

The Doctor was still a bit too preoccupied by the bomb to realise that someone else had walked into the room... besides the tiger. Turning sharply to face the direction he thought the tiger was in, the Doctor stopped dead in his tracks. "No..." shaking his head and taking a few steps back, the alien swallowed hard before making a last minute decision to walked towards his greatest foe and greatest friend. "I never even thought that you could... how?" His voice was between sadness and desperation. "Wait-hang on..." taking a step back, the Doctor pointed at him accusingly as he fumbled with his free hand to find his sonic. "How do I know this isn't some trick? How do I know you're really here?"

The Master gestured patiently at the tiger that was still prowling around. He was fairly certain the beast wouldn't touch him - as one predator to another, it seemed to sense that it was outmatched. He wasn't so sure that it would leave the Doctor alone. "I think you're forgetting something, aren't you?" he said, then glanced at the ticking bomb as well. "Oh my. Two somethings. I'm almost flattered. Caught between a bomb and a tiger, and you still pay more attention to me." He grinned, practically drinking in the desperation in the Doctor's expression - though truth to be told, he wasn't unaffected by the meeting either. The last time he'd seen the Doctor, Theta had just saved his life and cut him free from the drums, choosing him over the Time Lords and all of Gallifrey. It was ... to be honest, he had a nasty little sense that he owed the other Time Lord something, and that really didn't sit well with him. And then there was that other niggling little annoying emotion, that detestable little bit of him that insisted that it missed the Doctor-- no, really, it was just that the Doctor was the most interesting being around for miles. That was it, really. He rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't be an idiot," he said, advancing on the Doctor. "You sent me back into Hell with the others, don't you remember? Accused me of not being there at the final days of the Time War. Well, now I've been there. All caught up! Davros, the Nightmare Child, the Fall of Arcadia, blah blah blah. So terribly boring. Really, this place, humdrum and human infested as it is, is almost an improvement."

The Doctor shook his head desperately. "No, no-listen, no. Stop!" Once he got his sonic free, the Doctor grasped at his forehead and smacked his palm against it as he tried to drown out the voices that were telling him to destroy everyone on the ship because now that the Master was here, he wouldn't have a chance to save his beloved ship. Stumbling back from him, the Doctor panted as he dropped his arms to his side and glanced nervously towards the bomb. "You don't understand, you haven't been here. Why now? Why now?!" Screaming and pointing a finger accusingly at the other Time Lord, the Doctor let out a low whine before shifting his gaze towards the tiger. "I've named him Tony, you know."

The Master frowned in slight confusion. While he wasn't familiar with this face of the Doctor's, and judging by the rather ill-fitting clothes and the general air of unkemptness, he assumed that this regeneration was a bit of an airhead (not that the other hadn't been), this was taking the cake, platter and all. "Listen, you moron," he sighed, "Deactivate the bomb, and--" he had to spring into action as the Doctor stumbled backwards and starting screaming, which was exactly the right thing to do in front of a tiger that was already twitchy - if you wanted to be mauled, that was. With a roar, the beast sprang towards the Doctor, and quite without thinking, the Master barrelled into the other Time Lord, shoving him bodily out of the way. Teeth and claws went by in a flurry as the tiger sprang and missed, then spun around, tail lashing and evidently ready to strike again. Snarling, the Master cast an eye around the room - guns and weapons everywhere, but hell knew what kind of state they were in. Reaching for his laser screwdriver instead, he pulled it out of his pocket with an admonishing yell at the Doctor of, "Is this face completely insane?"

The Doctor was blindsided by the Master and nearly clung to him when he was shoved out of the way before losing balance and smacking into the wall. Sliding down it, the Time Lord stared up at him with widened eyes before shaking his head. "Perfectly sane, just... bored." His eyes bared no emotion as he turned to look blankly at the tiger. "I've redecorated the TARDIS, found the butterfly room." Mumbling the Doctor got up and moved over towards the bomb. "Something's been wrong with me, I can't seem to keep a face." Kneeling before the bomb, he put his screwdriver to it and began to set to work, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was doing was helping. "Tell me, Master... what was the drums to you?"

The Master glared momentarily at the Doctor, realising that something was genuinely wrong. Sniping at the tiger with the screwdriver, he drove it back, singing its tail just for kicks - all the better to keep it wary of him. He considered killing it, but that was potentially a waste of a useful and interesting resource. A few well placed zaps sent it retreating back, snarling, before it turned and vanished into the darkness. "Bored," the Master repeated, slightly incredulously. "Can't keep a face? Well, that's what happens if you keep killing yourself." Moving closer to the Doctor, he frowned at what he was doing, then grabbed the sonic from his hands. "If you want anything fixed..." he muttered, correcting the settings and waving it at the bomb. The ticking stopped immediately. "What was the drums? A pain in the arse," he growled. That topic was particularly sensitive, and he wasn't about to -- oh. Wait. "Why do you ask?" he said.

The Doctor slammed his free hand down on the ground and sighed irritably. "No! I mean my regenerations are spontaneously changing and I can't stop it. I have revisited my past and I have seen my future, it's ​really​ unnerving!" Sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth, the Time Lord continued to fidgit with the bomb only to have his sonic torn out of his hand. Staring up at the Master with expectant eyes and then blinking in amazement when he stopped the bomb, the Doctor moved to sit on his bum. "You saved me. Twice." But it was almost above a whisper and then he was giving a non-answer shrug to the other's question. "Do you think that the drums could also come as a form of... voices?"

The Master snorted in disgust - although whether that was aimed more at himself or at the Doctor, he wasn't quite sure. Tossing the sonic back at the other, he folded his arms. "I don't want you dead just yet. You're no fun that way. Come to think of it - you're no fun this way." Arching an eyebrow, he tutted at his fellow Time Lord. "Voices? Are we hearing voices now? Really, Doctor. The crazy act is all very well and good, but don't think for an instant that it'll make me go easy on you." Although at this point, all evidence pointed to the contrary. "What do you mean your regenerations keep changing?"

The Doctor watched as his sonic was tossed back at him, dully registering that it was his as it smacked against him and then fell to the floor before dropping and rolling a bit away. "I'm..." For a moment of clarity the Time Lord looked up at his friend and sighed. "I'm not well Master, I thought you should know. Its only fair." As much as it seemed like he was trying to break for an advantage or something, the Doctor really wasn't. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought that maybe even the Master could help. Maybe. "I mean exactly what I said. These clothes? They're chosen by my future face. Just yesterday I was back to wearing the colourful outfit and the blond curly hair."

The Master scowled faintly. This was a complication that he hadn't anticipated - he'd been looking forward to meeting his old adversary, but the Doctor in this state truly was no fun. "Never liked that outfit," he sneered. "Ridiculous doesn't even come close. I have to say your future face has better taste - though I'm pretty certain that you copied that coat from me. I had one too, you know?" But as he considered the figure slumped in front of him, a stray idea began to start stirring at the back of his mind. Dropping to a crouch in front of the Doctor, he pressed his fingers to the sides of his head and stared into his eyes. "Let me in," he demanded. "Let me see if it's like the drums."

The Doctor resisted at first, unable to recognise that maybe the Master was trying to help. Plastering himself against the nearest wall, he shut his eyes tightly before giving in and relaxing into the other's touch. "Only since you asked nicely," he mumbled-not really letting a humour out but at least hoping to get an eye roll out of the other. Almost instantly he opened all the doors to his mind, allowing the Master to explore anywhere he'd like, in hopes that he'd be able to pinpoint exactly where the source of the voices were coming from, and if so, if he could do something-anything about it.

The Master tsked in annoyance when the Doctor squirmed away, but he wasn't so easily deterred. Still, the other Time Lord caved faster than he'd expected - he was either desperate or truly out of it - allowing him access to... everything. That came as a surprise; he never really got used to how naive and stupidly trusting the Doctor could be. This face was either as sentimental as the last one, or else the voices were telling him strange things. A quick assessment showed no actual external voices whatsoever, but judging from the mess in the Doctor's mind - for all his quirks, he usually was much neater than this - the Master was starting to suspect that there was perhaps an underlying biological cause for the disorientation. Regeneration recoded everything right down to a molecular DNA level, let alone all the synapses and neural connections in the brain. The constant back and forth swapping without the kind of burst of energy from a proper regeneration was probably degrading things rather than replenishing them. If he were to hazard a guess, he would say that things were possibly leaking through from one regeneration to another. Still, there was a way to stabilise it, anchor things down so they weren't free-floating quite as much... and while he doubted that the Doctor would have agreed in his right mind, it served the Master's purposes just fine. Without really even bothering to ask, he laced the signal through the Doctor's mind - the subliminal four beat rhythm of the Archangel network that echoed the drums that had once pounded through his head. It was a far less /disruptive/ thing, buried at a near unconscious level, though he was sure that, unlike a human, the Doctor would be able to notice it if he paid enough attention. But that was exactly the point - the soothing, constant repetition of that beat would drown out the voices, giving him something to focus on other than the screaming in his own mind - most of that was his own fault, for blowing up Gallifrey, really. As for the little side effect that it would make him happily suggestive to the Master's hypnosis... well, that was a small price to pay, was it? "Better?" he asked.

The Doctor 's clarity was obscured by the fact that his mind was a jumbled mess. If he was thinking soundly, he would have resisted the Master and even fought him. But that wasn't the case and as much as he wanted to give a good fight, he found that he was being more open and accepting to the idea of 'letting the right one in'. Even if that 'right one' was more than likely the 'wrong one'. However, he soon found that the other Time Lord was doing ​something​ to him and whatever it was, it seemed to be calming him. Reaching up slowly, he placed his hand over the other's and gripped it. "Yes," he croaked out before reaching with his free hand for his sonic. "I don't know what you've done, not yet. But if it turns out to be a trick then I will make you pay for it. But for now..." the Doctor inclined his head in a small nod, "thank you."

The Master snorted. "I integrated a psychic interference pattern that will disrupt the voices," he said. "It'll also persist even when you change faces, so it'll be a constant that you can hold to." The threat would have been laughable if it hadn't been interesting. It was distinctly un-Doctorlike. How far could he be pushed, the Master wondered. They were two sides of the same coin, and he knew better than anyone the darkness that lay in the Doctor's hearts, no matter how much he tried to hide it. What would it take to make the Doctor realise that they really were similar? "Really, you wound me. Since when have I ever had anything other than your best interests at hearts?" He rose, dusting off his suit. "By the way, would this have anything to do with that biological metacrisis of yours running around?" He'd taken a look into the Doctor's memories, of course - why wouldn't he, when all the doors had been opened to him? - and he was reasonably sure that it didn't, but it never hurt to make sure.

The Doctor was slow to stand but ultimately was able to pull himself up after a few struggling moments. Looking over his sonic, he pocketed it without another word and then stared over at the Master with curiosity. "It might give me time to figure out how to stop the face changing. It was fun at first but... not anymore." Dusting himself off, the Time Lord looked down at his shoes before lifting his head at the question about his Metacrisis. "He took my ship. Won't let me near her nor will he tell me where she's at. So you tell me if he has anything to do with this."

The Master raised his eyebrows a little - he'd caught glimpses of the Doctor's memories of his interaction with the hybrid, and from what he could see, it had been a bit of a mixed back. Dumping him in an alternative universe. Meeting again, making up - there had been some fondness there, but things had been rather tense lately, it seemed. "TARDISes are known to be stabilising influences on their pilots," he said, in an offhand sort of way. "I wouldn't be surprised if being separated from your ship was making you worse." He examined his laser screwdriver, then glanced up at the Doctor. Time to see exactly how deep the Doctor's madness ran. "Do you want him dead, then? I'm sure it can be arranged."

The Doctor briefly, for him, a darker part wanted to agree and let the Master take care of things. To allow him to take the life of the other so that he wouldn't have to deal with the competition that would always be there in an underlying sort of way. To easily win back the affection of all his companions, to just make everything.... ​no.​ "Just get me back to my ship." His voice was cold, as he stared back at the other, not answering the other question and unwilling to let the Master force him into some sort of decision. However, he still couldn't leave the other hanging, and he knew it. "Whatever happens in between, I don't want to know about."

The Master would have giggled to himself if he hadn't thought that would make the Doctor suspicious of him. This was delightful. He didn't know why he'd never thought of doing this before - but yes, surely this was the ultimate way of defeating the Doctor once and for all - to make him lose himself to his darkness. And this way, the Master would get to keep his old friend too, without all that incredibly tiresome and hypocritical holier-than-thou moral superiority. "Very well. I suppose we'll have to find it first, seeing that someone's gone and hidden it." He smirked. "I suppose I'll go looking. If there's anything, just yell." He tapped his temple. "We're linked now, I'll hear it." Pocketing his screwdriver, he turned to leave, figuring that it was best to let the link settle into the Doctor's subconscious. Let it cook for a while, before they tried anything more drastic. "Oh, and by the way - do me a favour and call that Freak of yours to heel. He's been yapping around my heels and being a pest, trying to get in the way of my doing anything - which at this point, is counterproductive. After all, we're working together now, aren't we?"