fracturedrp | New arrival

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New arrival

The Master checked the readings on the control console of his TARDIS. He scowled. Three Dalek ships were attempting to cut him off. Escaping from the misbegotten lab accidents had become more difficult, since they learned how to time travel. Their methods, as usual, were crude, but highly effective. Fortunately, the Master congratulated himself on being even more effective!

Travelling in the Vortex was always tricky. It took exact calculations, often done in moments. A TARDIS and its pilot had to work together to stay on course and not get pulled to pieces by the Vortex's violent forces, but the Master had centuries of experience at quick escapes. He'd intended to materialize on Markeb in the constellation of Vela, but his fingers flew swiftly across the console, altering his coordinates. Changing direction in the Vortex was far from safe. Still, his TARDIS was top of the line and he was an expert pilot. The Master finished entering coordinates and pressed in the override.

A sharp jolt almost sent the Master plummetting to the ground, but he managed to stay up right. Despite the dangerous manuever, he was surprised to hear the ominous tolling of his cloister bells! Shutting down the alarm, the Master scanned the immediate area. He couldn't detect any Daleks. Grinning, the Master initiated materialization, waiting for the soft thump of landing.

When the materialization was complete, the Master studied his console, checking for damage. He frowned as he noted the alarm was still flashing red, though he had turned off the sound. He studied the coordinates and saw, to his annoyance, that they had shifted! He had intended to land on Sto, where he could remain fairly anonymous. Instead, he seemed to have landed on Earth in the middle of London, though something in the coordinates seemed off.

Earth was not one of the Master's favorite places, but it was fairly anonymous, when it wasn't under attack. He decided to take a quick walk to get rid of the adrenalin from the chase, then maybe grab a cup of tea. He checked to make sure his TCE was charged and in a handy pocket, then exited his TARDIS.

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"Explain yourself," the Master demanded. "Why would there be more than one Doctor about? He wouldn't cross his own timeline, unless there was an emergency."

"You really did just get here," said Handy, only mildly surprised. He'd been testing the Master, to an extent - anyone who hadn't heard about all the meta-crises had to be fairly new to this universe.

"You're probably not in the universe where you think you are," he said. "Honestly, if you can turn around and find a way to go back, you'll probably be better off. This one's...unstable."

The Master smirked. He didn't quite believe this universe was unstable. The Doctor was consistently treacherous and rarely honest, if he could find a reason to lie. The Master wasn't fool enough to turn and leave on the Doctor's advice, much less that of a meta-crisis. Obviously, he wanted to hide something from the Master.

"Oh, I think I'll stay for a bit. I can always reverse my flight path later," he assured the meta-crisis. "Your friend there says he has no name. Is that true for you, as well?"

Handy frowned. "I wouldn't be so sure," he said. "If it were that simple, there'd be a lot fewer of us here, I think." He wasn't really hiding anything in particular from the Master - he had his personal secrets, of course, but it was nothing the Master ought to be interested in. And, well, it might be better if he didn't find out from Handy that the meta-meta was wearing his future face.

"You could just call me 'Doctor,'" he said tiredly, not expecting that the Master would. None of the Masters ever did.

[OOC: Meta-meta tag coming.]

"He's called Andrew," said the meta-meta, peering at the Master over his Doctor-thing's shoulder. He gave the Doctor-thing a faint but smug smile when he turned to glare at him - today, it seemed, he was in a contrary mood.

"I could, but I won't," the Master informed the meta-crisis, frowning slightly. "You may have come from him, but you are not the Doctor."

Considering the facts he had gleaned, the Master studied the meta-meta. When he mentioned the name Andrew, the Master grinned.

"Oh, Andrew is a fine name. Yes, that will do nicely!"

"You don't know that." Andrew scowled at the Master, his resentment at being told point blank that he was not the Doctor very, very clear. "And you're back on the leash next time," he muttered to the meta-meta, who didn't seem particularly impressed by the promised punishment.

"Of course, I know that," the Master scoffed. "I do know the meaning of meta-crisis, thank you, and I know the Doctor!"

He smiled at the meta-meta, enjoying his contrariness, though he didn't trust the man.

"A leash? That isn't very Doctor-like, is it? Why does your meta-crisis not have a name?"

"You know the Doctor from your own time," Andrew pointed out sullenly. "And it's plenty Doctor-like. Nine hundred years of companions wandering off wears on you - and it's for his own good." Or he had meant it to be, back when he'd had the meta-meta on a leash whenever they went out at all. Nowadays the leash was almost never used except as a threat. Even now there was a fair chance he wouldn't actually do it.

The lack of a name was harder to explain. He shrugged uncomfortably. "Never got around to it."

"I know the Doctor, completely," the Master argued, firmly. "He can never change enough to be unknown to me. So, you inherited his lack of responsiblity."

He turned to the meta-meta with a conciliatory smile.

"You have a mind of your own. Why do you not choose a name?"

"I've kept him safe," argued Handy. "That's responsibility."

He frowned. "Why am I arguing about this with you?" he asked. "I don't have to explain myself."

[OOC: Meta-meta tag on its way.]

The meta-meta smiled back at the Master. It really was interesting to see a younger version of part of himself in the flesh.

He shrugged in response to the question - he didn't have any better answer to it than the Doctor-thing did.

[OOC: And that's my last tag for the night, because I'm falling asleep at my desk.]

"I am holding a weapon on you," the Master reminded him. "I'm sure that provides you a good enough excuse to answer a few questions. You said this universe is unstable. What's wrong with it?"

"...Ah." Handy looked at the TCE, seeming to notice it for the first time. He'd been rather caught up in the novelty of seeing the Master in this particular body, and in the problem of the meta-meta running off and striking up conversations with potentially dangerous persons.

"You wouldn't," he said, though he wasn't absolutely positive about that. "It broke," he said simply. "Shattered. Then the pieces got friendly with the neighboring universes - I'm not actually from here, myself."

[OOC: No meta-meta tag.]

"You and I are obviously from very different realities," the Master observed wryly. "I might heisitate to use this on the Doctor, depending on the circumstances. I'll won't do the same for you. You said more than one Doctor was here. Is that was caused the breaking or is that merely an effect?"

"An effect," said Handy tersely. He could have kicked himself for engaging the Master in conversation instead of immediately trying to get away. He'd been lulled into a sense of complacency by the more recent Masters he knew.

"He's not the only one," he said, volunteering more information while he tried to think of a way to talk himself and the meta-meta out of this situation. "All sorts of people I know - even you. You're not the first Master I've met here. You're not even the first one to threaten my life."

"How unsurprising," the Master replied with genial sarcasm. "Do you know what caused this universe to break?"

He's waiting. This isn't the Doctor, but, despite what the Master has said, he does seem to be a close approximation. The Master is intrigued, both by Andrew and the situation. He's curious to see what Andrew will do to escape.

He shrugged. "I don't," he said. "Someone at Torchwood might."

Andrew silently ticked through the resources and obstacles around him in his mind. Very little cover other than the building he and the meta-meta had both come around, and the Master was quick enough to shoot him if he simply made a run for it. And, too, there was the problem of the meta-meta: even if Andrew could be sure the meta-meta would do as he was told, he didn't really have a way of signaling him. He could simply keep answering the Master's questions, but he didn't fancy the thought of giving the Master all the information he wanted and thereby losing his usefulness while still in the Master's presence.

He squeezed the meta-meta's hand and let it go, freeing both of them for action should an opportunity arise. The meta-meta stayed where he was, looking on, and Handy wondered privately if the shorter man actually understood what was going on.

"You really would be better off going home," he said. "If you still can."

"Tsk. You're so anxious to see me go! That's hardly polite, my dear Andrew. I don't believe I will accomodate you. This universe sounds fascinating. I am a scientist, after all," the Master informed him smugly.

The Master noticed them releasing hands and frowned, curiosity rising again.

"You're the meta-crisis of the Doctor and some human. Who was the other half of his meta-crisis?"

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "You really can't believe I might just have your best interests at heart?" he asked. He wasn't really surprised, but it was exasperating to have the Master go on as if he were trying to trick him.

He unintentionally took a sharp breath at the question, then silently cursed himself for it. "Another Time Lord," he said. "Don't think it would have worked otherwise - shouldn't have worked at all, really. No one you know."

"Why should I believe that?" the Master demanded, his voice lowering to almost a growl. "Beyond the Doctor's moralizing advice, the only help I've ever received from him, I got through trickery! It's hard to believe he had my best interests at heart, when he left me to be killed by Cybermen in the Death Zone and allowed me to be burned alive on Sarn! He's devious and manipulative and I've no reason to believe you are otherwise!"

The Master's hands had tightened on the TCE, but now he forced his grip to relax. He took a breath and released it slowly, fighting for precious control.

"Case in point, I believe you are lying about your friend there. I'm the other half, aren't I? Some future version of me?"

"Things change," he replied softly. He cringed at the accusations, though, and looked away. "I'm sorry, Master," he said, though he knew that would never be enough. He'd had his reasons for doing those things, and the Master could hardly claim to be any less devious - though now was not the time to point that out.

He glanced back at the meta-meta uneasily. He'd really rather the Master would just leave him out of this, but it was far too late for that. "It doesn't matter who it was," he insisted, almost pathologically unable to cop to the lie. "He's not right in the head. It could have been anyone."

The Master used his moment of stunned silence to forcibly remind himself that this was not the Doctor! He repeated "not the Doctor" over and over inside his mind. The Master knew, he knew, there were certain strings of words that he would never hear from the Doctor, no matter what the Master's wishes. In fact, there was only one sequence of words more coveted than those and they were even less likely.

"Neither of us has reason to trust the other," the Master stated, with forced nonchalance. "However, if it doesn't matter who it was, why are you so determined to avoid the question? There are only so many Time Lord renegades and I seriously doubt it was anyone from home. Are you going to try and claim it was the Rani? The Meddling Monk? No."

The Master shook his head. It didn't matter, really, but it was a safer topic to pursue. Instinct and logic alike suggested himself as the other half of the double meta-crisis. What other Time Lord's fate was so closely tied to the Doctor's?

Apologies came easier to the Doctor by this point in his life, and easier still to Handy, who usually felt at least vaguely guilty about something, whatever he'd been up to. He blinked at the Master, not having expected to stun him at all. He really was out of touch with what the Master had been like before.

"It could have been," he argued. "You don't know."

He held out for a few seconds longer, not realizing that the meta-meta had already nodded at the Master behind his back. "Fine," he said grudgingly. "Yes. But you can't possibly want anything to do with him now."

[OOC: Meta-meta tag on its way.]

This was all just getting tedious, really. Of course he'd come from the Master's hand; anyone could see that. The keeping of secrets was not one of the meta-meta's strong suits, and he was bored of the conversation now. He nodded to the Master while the Doctor-thing was still hemming and hawing, shuffling slightly closer to his blue-suited counterpart so he could slip a hand into the shopping back the other still held.

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derp, keep forgetting to call him Andrew in this game

:D Master just does it to be annoying. lol

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