ext_145634 ([identity profile] sinister-charm.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] paradisalost2007-06-25 10:32 am

[THREAD] Not Quite As I Appear

Who: 'Fifth Doctor' ([livejournal.com profile] sinister_charm) and Tenth Doctor ([livejournal.com profile] not_from_mars)
What: Ten gives a tour of the castle to 'Five' - but little does Ten know, this is the Master in disguise...
When: Noon, June 25th
Where: Around the castle - eventually in 'Five's' TARDIS
Rating: R (for violence)



The Master had long settled into the appearance of the Doctor from his timeline. Certainly, it was different being blond and wearing such light colors - not to mention the fact he now spoke with a different voice, his height was a tad different, and of all things, he found himself far-sighted in one eye. The Doctor always did have eyesight problems...

He stood near one of the staircases and quickly adjusted the tan-ish hat that came with his disguise, before promptly shoving his hands into his pockets. The Master rocked back on his heels and he grinned a soft, Five-like grin. He hadn't believed the Doctor would believe him this easily.

Oh, this would be delightful.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 03:14 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor was leaving his room just then, headed for the lift donning his usual attire. It struck him as odd, while welcomed, that his Fifth self had so suddenly appeared in Paradisa. It seemed totally random, no rhyme or reason to it at all. But still he agreed to show him around the castle, give him a tour or the place where he was undoubtedly going to be stuck for a while.

And there was that bit about his loss. He wondered, as he descended in the lift, if Five being unable to sense other Time Lords explained why he hadn't been able to sense Five's presence when he arrived. All very curious. Maybe there was more to the loss thing than he thought he knew.

Finally the lift reached the first floor and stepped out, glancing around the entryway for his Fifth. It didn't take him long to spot that hat of his.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 03:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Unfortunately unaware of 'Five's current desires, the Doctor began walking towards his past self, meeting him halfway as he was being approached, as well.

He wasn't sure, but something seemed a bit... off about him. He paid no mind, however, and raised his eyebrows to show he was paying attention when the other spoke to him.

"I do believe I am," he said, nodding once. "Hello!"

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 04:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Ten gave him that grin of his at that statement, hands in his pockets as he bounced very slightly on the balls of his feet. "Little disappointed about the not-ginger thing, but otherwise, I'm loving this regeneration." He blinked. "Can't say much for my eyesight, though," he added idly, pulling out his glasses. He returned them to his pocket, keeping his hand there once again.

"Right!" He looked around the entryway, around to the hallways off to the sides. Start with Paradisa welcoming-tradition first? Sure. "The kitchen's here on the first floor," he said, gesturing in its direction, "and it's full of cupboards and pantries and stoves and things, all ready for use - and looking a bit anachronistic, considering the apparent era of the castle and the town... er, there are ghosts that bring things if you ask for them, though I'm thinking they're more of a..."

He continued on, introducing the rest of the kitchen, the library and other rooms that were of consequence. The minor things, he was sure he could find on his own. He gave him a quick overview of what they'd found out about the castle, and very soon all that was left was stepping outside to see the village from the top of the hill.

"Everything second floor and up is residential, though I assume you've found your room by now?"

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 05:23 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor nodded when given the room number. 1305... he was pretty sure he didn't know anyone on the 13th floor, which meant he couldn't ask anyone nearby to tell him if they saw the other Doctor acting... strangely. Call it an irrational feeling, but instinct was nudging ever-so-slightly at him. No matter, he'd continue on, use his own judgement. If his suspicion stayed, he had his means.

Soon he was leading who he thought was Five outside onto the lawn, to the part of the grounds on which Cair Paradisa stood where one could have a clear view of the village down below.

"And that," he said, looking down on it, "Is the City Royal. Full of villagers, and they all seem to want to worship the people who live in the castle. Unfortunately, that's about the extent of their knowledge on the thing." He sighed, looking out over it. "And they make an excellent daiquiri." He grinned, but didn't allow time for an answer. "So anyway, that concludes the Grand Tour of Cair Paradisa. Wait until the tram stops before departing, hope to see you again." He shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Not a bad place once you get used to the sinister undertone, though I'm taking the first working TARDIS out of here."

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Ten turned to 'Five' when he proposed going to his TARDIS, glancing him over and turning his head as though the TARDIS was right there in view. A thought struck him, and so he pondered that as he answered.

He raised an eyebrow. "What'd you leave?" But he started walking back towards the castle, allowing leeway for the other to lead them to his TARDIS. He shot an indignant look up at the castle, remembering that Five's wasn't working, either. An odd, heavy feeling swept over him, but he paid no attention to it. He was busy thinking.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Ten raised an eyebrow questioningly at the pause, trying to remember why he was ever so attached to something like a cricket ball. And still, something didn't seem right. But he followed Five anyway, hands in his pockets, walking slowly.

The TARDIS came into view. So familiar, so... home. A notion was tugging at him, but he couldn't think of what it was; he was focused on following his alleged past self to the ship and trying to figure out what was off about this Doctor. Soon they arrived at the blue police box and Ten looked it over, hearing the other man's invitation for him to enter first. Slowly he reached out and took hold of one of the door handles, and that's when he realised what was wrong.

He was feeling nothing from this TARDIS. It was his TARDIS, wasn't it? The ship he had the symbiotic link with, from his past or not -- it was his. And yet there was no familiar feeling of recognition coming from the ship whose doors he was opening. But then he did open them, and he stepped inside.

This wasn't his TARDIS. It was familiar, but it wasn't his.

It only took him a second to realise that he had made a very, very grave mistake.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 08:01 pm (UTC)(link)
No. No, no, no. He was mentally screaming at himself for being such an idiot, for going along with something like this when he knew -- he knew things weren't right. So much for being cautious, for being wary.

And then the perpetrator spoke, so close to him with that gun to his back, and he stiffened. He turned his head away, jaw tighened in anger. Both at himself, and at the man behind him.

He did stay still, but the tone with which he spoke was defiant:

"Master."

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 08:25 pm (UTC)(link)
He continued staring hard ahead, gears clicking away as he tried to formulate some way to overcome the Master and escape. These were fogged up by his self-chastising, however, and the mortification that he felt at falling for this. He winced when the gun was driven into his back, and tried his damndest not to cry out when he was pulled backwards by the hair. Automatically his hands went up to free himself, and for a moment - only a moment - he looked up into the face of his fifth self. How cruel it was, for the Master to choose to keep this form. And him grinning twistedly, a smile that didn't fit the face it occupied, like it was some game. But Ten looked away, looked anywhere but the Master. And didn't say a word.

It was probably a mistake, but what the Master wanted was the satisfaction. He wasn't going to give it to him easily. Looking away and keeping his mouth shut, the only sound coming from him was his panting.

He needed to think of a way out.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Before the Doctor could register what was going on, before he could anticipate the Master's next move like he had in their previous fight, his vision went white as the weapon was slammed against the side of his head. He fell hard to the metal floor of the TARDIS, disoriented and trying to blink the sight back into his eyes. He could see the fuzzy image of the Fifth -- no, the Master, standing over him with that horrible Earth weapon.

"Don't do this," he panted, deciding to speak. "Just... just think."

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
His vision was clearing again, just in time to see the Master - still disguised as his fifth self, and that disgusted him - crouch down in front of him. He did his best to pull his head away from the man's hand, which, he realised, sent some pain through the spot where he'd been hit with the gun. Expression venomous, he glared up into the face of his enemy.

"I said, don't do this," and he was still panting, but mostly with anger now, which removed any pleading from his words. He paused, eyes moving to the gun only for a second. "You don't deserve to wear that face."

What could he do? Distract him and grab the gun? Knock him over while he was crouched, hope he didn't shoot him in the process and run for it? He hated guns. Sensless and violent, a quick, brutal and messy way to kill a person. Next thing he knew he was grabbed, now held face-to-face with his captor. The Doctor gave him the most mutinous of looks, looking hatefully into the other man's eyes.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 10:21 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor's eyes widened as he stared at the man now in front of him, although he knew he should have expected something like this. Koschei, from many, many years ago, back at the Academy. The person who had been his best friend, who would never have agreed to doing this to him, and here was his image, face contorted with hate and anger. He felt his insides twist, but he wasn't going to let that show to the Master. There was no other change in his expression.

Suddenly he was jerked up to stand, being dragged along by Kos -- no, the Master. He almost wrenched away from his grip, but the gun was aimed expertly at him. The door to the TARDIS was getting further and further away... he felt weak, stupid. He needed a plan. Very soon.

He was being dragged through the Master's TARDIS, through rooms he'd never seen before and couldn't really make out for the lighting, anyway. His head was throbbing from the earlier blow, and so he wasn't completely aware of where they were anymore until he was thrown to the floor in a room that smelled sickeningly of blood. He didn't want to think about who it might've belonged to once.

"Where are we?" His voice remained firm, fierce.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 10:41 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor cringed at the mutilation of the laugh he knew so long ago, and stared up at the Master furiously as he was approached.

So he actually intended to kill --

He let out a heave of pain as he was kicked in the stomach, sure that he felt something break. He coughed a few times, winded, wincing at the new pain.

"No."

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Kicked again, the Doctor unconsciously brought his arms down to protect himself from a third blow as he continued to gasp for air, feeling himself being dragged across the floor.

He was sure that even if he wanted to stand he wouldn't be able to, but doing him in was what the Master wanted. He looked up, tried to locate the gun, tried to think of some way to get it from him and turn the tables. But now he was working on standing, steadily as he could even with all the pain he already had. He pushed it to the back of his mind. He wasn't going to let the Master think he'd done him in - because in the grand scheme of things, he wasn't even close.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-25 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor, however, met that smile with a look of scorn. Here he was, letting himself get shackled against the wall, pain stabbing at him and his head pounding.

There had to be a way out. There had to be.

He lifted his head enough to look at the back of the Master's head after he turned away, wondering what he was up to, if he would be able to do something about these shackles while he was looking away. Clearly, he was about to do something, but what --

He was caught off guard as the Master turned and he was hit with a blow far worse than the physical; his mind was being ravaged, attacked -- he had to fight back. He couldn't help it; he let out a yell of pain.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-26 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
The Doctor tried to stifle his screaming, biting down onto his lip to stop himself. Through the mental assault, through the pain, he managed one word:

"Never!"

That seemed to give him a burst of strength, and he used it to his advantage: he countered against the Master's attack, fighting back. He would not give in.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-26 12:31 am (UTC)(link)
He took slight notice that the other Time Lord was no longer under the visage of Koschei, which made him that much easier to hate. Defending against the attack he strengthened his own - if only he could incapacitate him long enough... but then he was feeling the air leave his lungs again, then felt a sharp pain across his face. And here he was, unable to protect himself. In that moment he dropped his guard slightly, screamed in pain once again.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-26 12:59 am (UTC)(link)
"NO!" He heard himself roar through it all, for the pain and the mental assault were making him feel very detatched indeed. He knew what the Master wanted. Always, always, his greatest fear - aside from death - was being in the Doctor's shadow, and he hoped to gain a feeling of greatness by making him beg for his life.

He wouldn't. Not as long as he could help it.

Suddenly the Doctor felt immense pressure against his mind; he could've guessed it to be the equivalent to a physical hun - hund --

His thoughts whited out as he focused everything on fighting back against the blow. He wouldn't let him win, would never let him win... straining, pushing, probably screaming, he gave all he had to defend himself against this one massive assault.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-26 12:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Pinned against the wall, panting heavily, vision blurred, he lifted his head to look in the Master's direction. Corner of his mouth turned up slightly in defiance - whatever he had left of it - he managed to speak:

"I've been around longer than you," and it was a grainy, weathered sound, "I've learned a few things."

Ribs burning with pain each time he took a breath, he tried to clear his head as well as keep up a defense - albeit a weak one now - against another possible attack. Every plan he came up with needed resources he just didn't have; his mind was exhausted, his body pained, and he was finding it harder to focus on the here and now.

He didn't want to admit it, but he didn't think he had much more time.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-26 03:01 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor lifted his head higher, and even that seemed to be difficult. It was when he was looking down his nose at the Master, panting, that he felt pain through his already throbbing head, and then again. He saw lights dance before his eyes, and the smell of blood in the room seemed to be stronger than ever.

He couldn't see the Master now, for his eyes were screwed shut, but he could hear him -- feel him as he took his throat in a gloved hand. He was going to strangle him? He didn't have time to say anything - not that he was going to - before the grip was tightened and his airway was restricted.

Luckily he was a Time Lord, because he was sure a human would've passed out or even died in the time he took to let go. Even he, however, was feeling lightheaded by that time, and he gasped for air until and after the other released his airway. He cringed at the touch, at this twisted, sick mutilation of a boy he'd once known and cared for who was standing before him, gone from choking him to --

He twitched, fighting to keep his eyes open so he could send the Master a look of anger, of distaste. "Enjoying yourself?" His tone was all disgust. He'd forgotten the Master's habit of close contact with him, and at the moment he would've killed to not be chained to the wall.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-26 03:27 pm (UTC)(link)
His jaw tightened as his head continued to pound, watching the Master move closer to him. He was so predictable; the Doctor would show contempt at being touched, the Master would continue. The Doctor would show defiance, the Master would beat it out of him. But he was angry, not scared. Death, pain... he'd seen so much. That was the Master's fear, not his.

He stared ahead, gaze boring into the wall as he tried to ignore the Master's contact and the pain all over him.

"Of you?"

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-26 03:52 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor felt the cold metal of the gun as it was forced into his hand, and despite his flaming urge to rid himself of it, throw it across the room, he held onto it. What was the Master planning? He knew him well, he knew his hatred of weapons, he clearly knew that he wasn't going to shoot him, much less himself. Not even now, chained to the wall of a bloodstained chamber, he couldn't. He just couldn't, as much as he wanted to strike back at the Master, to give him what he deserved.

For a moment he pointed the gun at the Master, hands shaking, and gulped. Maybe if he could wound him, not kill him... but his hands were trembling with pain and anger, and he was sure that in this state he would miss or actually kill him. Not looking away from the Master, he loosened his grip on the weapon and tossed it on the floor a few feet away from him.

"I'm not like you." His voice was shaking. "Tell me, what's it like to be a coward and a killer?" And with this he banked on his last bit of intuition; that the Master, once again, would be unable to kill him. Because from the look on his face, he most certainly seemed like he wanted to.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-26 04:20 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor watched the Master, breathing heavily through his nose as the pain in his ribs was ever persistent. He was picking up the gun. Oh Rassilon, he was picking it up. He'd assumed, he was stupid, and now...

For a fleeting moment, he thought the Master had changed his mind. But a split second later he felt the barrel being pressed against his forehead, and he looked pleadingly at the Master one last time. He did not speak. If he was going to go, he was going to go without leaving him the satisfaction of the Doctor having begged, his final words, for his life. They locked eyes for a long moment, Ten hoping to find some sign of resistance in the Master, but there was nothing.

He closed his eyes, thinking of Martha, thinking of Rose and Nine and back on all of his years, numbering at least one thousand since he'd taken his first breath on Gallifrey. All the suffering he'd seen since, planets and beings destroyed, all wearing on him for over a millennium. Such a long, long time.

He wasn't afraid of death.

I'm sorry was the last thing to cross his mind before the trigger was pulled, but to whom he meant it, he didn't know. All he knew now was the cold metal of the gun and the click of it cocking, the sound of the trigger being pulled. He took a breath, bracing himself for death.

But nothing happened.

Dumbstruck, he wondered if that was death; quick and silent and painless, but he opened his eyes, gaping slightly, hearts pounding.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-26 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
For a moment all the Doctor could do was stare. It had been empty? Had the Master known all along? Leading him along like this, - and oh, he wouldn't lie to himself, he had been scared if only for a moment - only to end up with an unloaded gun and --

Letting him go. He was being unshackled, he felt his arms drop and nearly slid to the floor for the weakness in his legs, but he leaned against the wall and pushed himself up. He watched after the Master as he moved away and made his request, but he did not comply right away. He merely stood, watching him, gobsmacked.

He didn't say anything, though his head was throbbing and fogged and reeling, anyway. He merely stumbled to the door of the chamber, arm around his chest protectively as he grabbed the doorframe for support.

He gave the Master one last look, the pained mess that the Doctor was with his hair hanging limp in his face, his cheek quickly bruising and the amount of blood coming from his lip only now thinning.

[identity profile] not-from-mars.livejournal.com 2007-06-27 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor couldn't decide whether or not he was surprised. This had always been how it ended; the Master would come so very close to killing him, and then he would let him go. But this time had seemed to be different, he seemed like he really was going to kill him - and he still wasn't sure if that gun had been purposely left empty - but here he was, free to go.

Get out while I still have the sanity to realize you're much better off alive than dead. Still gripping onto the doorframe, he rolled that over in his mind. The Master, he realised, had been wrong about the destruction of Koschei, of any kind of conscience. He looked away as anger welled up in him again, flinching at the sudden psychic contact as though he thought it another attack. But instead it was the way out.

He said no words, just gave the corner the Master was in one last glance before he pushed himself painfully out the door and into the corridor. No more time to focus on thinking about the Master's actions. He was becoming dizzy, and he needed out. And so he went, leaning on the wall at times for support, hoping like hell that he wouldn't pass out before he got there.

He wasn't going to thank him.