taxonomites | 2. [Location: Mount Perdition] But now I've got you here, I'll never lead you back

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2. [Location: Mount Perdition] But now I've got you here, I'll never lead you back

[ooc: backdated to before Ax's glitch but after the Doctor goes to see the Master for the first time. Log will span several days of ~~torture~~ FUN]

The Master whistled as he walked down the long hallway toward the 'guestroom' he'd set up for the Doctor, twirling his newly rebuilt laser screwdriver between his fingers. It was fortunate the Doctor had turned up when he did, really; the Master had tried just about everything attempting to recreate his little baby via the hatches. Used up all of his credits, and even then gritted his teeth through those increasingly annoying electric shocks to make more until he was certain he was going to damage his hand. Every time the thing had gone slightly wrong, somehow-- the aim was off, or one of the settings was compromised. Or it didn't fire at all. Rebuilding from scratch seemed to be the only option.

It hadn't taken long for him to get it working properly, once he'd gotten the limiting components from the Doctor's sonic version. Save the TARDIS, which he had a feeling he'd not get easy access to for a very long time considering the frosty tart in charge of it, these components did not appear to be available in Taxon without the hatch's interference.

Now the Doctor's screwdriver was in pieces, some of which were scattered on the floor of his workspace, and some of which were in his hand. The Master smiled as he flung open the door, letting some light into the otherwise dark room. He wasn't particularly worried about escapes at the moment. The House would know to restrain the Doctor for these little visits.

"No windows," he remarked, though he was smiling. "Oh dear. You must have made it particularly cross with you." The Master snapped his fingers, the room flooding instantly with light. "Better?"

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"Can't imagine why," the Doctor answered dryly, blinking once or twice as his eyes adjusted to the light. "All I wanted to do was take a quick stroll around the mountain, stretch my legs a bit. It didn't seem to much like the idea."

A feeling the House had expressed by having a Drudge drag him bodily back into the room, and none too gently as well. He was fairly certain there would be at least one hand-shaped bruise on him somewhere by the time he managed to leave the House of Oakdown.

And he would find a way to leave, sooner or later. He just hoped it would be a bit sooner than later, before anyone started to worry too much. He ought to have some leeway, since those that knew him already probably knew he had a bit of a habit of appearing and disappearing when it suited him. Not to mention he'd be very surprised if the Master hadn't hidden his tablet's signal when the Drudges had taken it from him.

But that meant that if he did find the worst happened and he had to try contacting someone for help, he was rather stuck. No sonic screwdriver, no TARDIS, no weapons or tools of any kind; just himself.

And years of experience at getting out of similar situations.

The Doctor smiled slightly. "So, come to gloat already?"

The Master hadn't been there, of course, but he'd felt the House's triumph in recapturing the Doctor, delighted in its own, rudimentary emotions as it manhandled him into submission. What fun!

But he couldn't let his House have all the fun, could he?

"Now, that'd be awfully petty, wouldn't it?" The Master shifted slightly, adjusting the settings on the screwdriver in a manner that also served to show it off. It didn't look quite like his old one, but it felt right in his hands, at least, and that was a start.

"Oh no, Doctor. I thought we'd revisit some more old memories, since you seem to enjoy that so much. Hold him," he instructed the House in a flatter tone.

It was hardly necessary. He could feel the House waiting, practically humming with anticipation, in between the beats of the drums as he met the Doctor's eyes again. He aimed the screwdriver, his own eyes glittering with pure malice, and fired without hesitation.

"Petty like showing off what you've done to my screwdriver?" he answered, a sharp note in his voice. No, the Doctor hadn't missed the new laser screwdriver the Master was fiddling with, nor how some of the components didn't quite fit with the old design the Master had - pieces cannibalised from his own poor sonic.

It stung, knowing that he wouldn't be getting his own sonic screwdriver back in a hurry. Not unless he found a way to get the pieces back out of the laser screwdriver as well. His sonic was the only thing he had here that was his own other than the clothing he wore, and now it was gone. And worse, the Master was armed and more dangerous that he'd been before.

As the Doctor knew he was about to find out personally. There wasn't much of a chance of resistance as the Drudges grabbed him, nor anywhere to go if he had gotten away. Nothing he could do but remain still as the Master took aim and fired.

The pain was immediate but, he realised even as he gritted his teeth and fought not to scream, not as much as he was expecting. It wasn't a good realisation; it most likely meant that the Master would be working up to something higher eventually.

If that sharp note in the Doctor's voice was meant to put the Master in his place, it had quite the opposite effect. He could sense the hurt behind it, and beyond that, the tension. The worry. And it just made him want to push the Doctor further, cement his helplessness in his mind. Break him.

The Master was grinning fiercely, not to mention slightly flushed, by the time he took his finger off the trigger. "Will you look at that," he said, laughing a little and kissing it. "It works!"

And then he graced the Doctor with a cruel, more restrained smile, his childish glee slipping away like another mask. "On that setting, anyhow."

He fiddled with the screwdriver again, before bringing it back up to fire. "Ooh. Let's see what this one does, Doctor!"

"Oh good, it works," the Doctor said. His voice was ragged from the strain and he wasn't standing quite so straight in the grip of the Drudges anymore. "Lovely. Don't suppose we can leave it at that, can we? Call it a day and go our separate ways?"

He didn't expect that to get much of an answer to that; the comment really intended more to give him a moment to recover from the effect while the Master talked. Maybe even, if he could stretch it out long enough, give him time to come up with something to get out of here.

But anything he was starting to come up with already was almost forgotten entirely as the Master adjusted the settings and turned the weapon on him again. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, and the Doctor twisted and yelled in the Drudges' grip, fighting to try and get away from the pain despite how unlikely he knew it to be.

The Master's eyes almost closed in ecstasy as finally, finally, the Doctor began to make those sounds of unmistakable distress. But he forced them to stay open, if half-lidded. He wanted to drink in every nuance, watch him writhe like a snake in the talons of a bird.

"What's the matter, Doctor? Going to need a bit of a break? Don't tell me you've gone soft; I haven't even aged you yet." The Master tilted his head.

"Remember how much fun that was? It'll take us a while to get there again. Oh, but we have plenty of time, don't we?"

He dialed up the intensity of the blast a little more, fixing the Doctor with an imperious look as he pressed the trigger again. Which instantly turned to one of pained surprise as the screwdriver shorted out and sent a small shock up his arm.

The Doctor couldn't help but let out a sharp, relieved laugh as the screwdriver shocked the Master rather than delivering the surge of pain he'd been expecting.

"Must not have gotten it put together right," he remarked. His voice was still a little strained but he was starting to recover already. "What's the matter? In a bit of a hurry and did a botch job?"

He could have shot back something about the sonic version providing substandard parts, but that the Master wasn't in the mood for such banter would have been beyond understatement. The drums were now roaring in his ears, steadily built up from the thrill of causing the Doctor pain, watching him bend under his utter control, all the while knowing it was only the beginning, that there was always more to take. Now, with the unexpected interruption in his plans, the sharp sting still lingering in his hand, and worst of all insults, the Doctor laughing at him-- the frenzied beat had whipped him into a rage.

Without another word, he stalked toward the Doctor, his expression dark and furious, and belted him across the face with the hand still holding the screwdriver.

Even though he knew what was coming, it wasn't possible for the Doctor to do much to avoid or soften the blow. The Drudges, likely sensing their Master's rage, tightened their grip on him as the other Time Lord stalked forward, pulling him up straighter to face the Master. Consequently the blow caught him full force across the face, snapping his head to the side and earning a yelp of pain.

"Temper hasn't changed any," he managed, gingerly probing the inside of his cheek with his tongue. The screwdriver was a little heavier than it looked and had enough sharper parts that he was fairly certain there was a mark there already, not to mention bruising to look forward to later.

The Master watched him recover, the drums perpetuating a dull ache throughout his brain and making it difficult to think straight. Hitting the Doctor had automatically made him feel much better, and that was good. But they demanded more, wanted him to hit again and again. Kick him across the floor of this room, break every last bone in his body. And the House, feedbacking on his own desires, gleefully seconded that motion.

His eyes narrowed when the Doctor spoke. Much more of this back talk and he wasn't going to be able to control himself. Surely there was no harm, though, in grabbing a fistful of that flop hair and yanking the Doctor's head viciously back. Far from it; it was instructive.

"We'll have to resume our little walk down Memory Lane later," he murmured, struggling to keep his voice even and soft, oh so very soft.

The Doctor winced as his head was dragged back, his scalp throbbing a protest from the treatment. He hadn't expect the malfunctioning laser screwdriver to stop the Master for long, so the murmured promise wasn't surprising in the least. It was a bit more interesting how the House seemed to be almost as impatient as the Master was, however. Or at least, the way the Drudges were holding his arms tight enough for them to start aching suggested that. Housekeepers and Houses normally had something of a close connection, but the Master's situation was hardly normal...

It was starting to give the Doctor an idea.

He realised he was smiling, a little, twisted smile from the way his cheek was starting to puff up a bit, but still a smile. "Take your time," he answered. "I'm not going anywhere. Or, maybe I can take that walk? Stretch my legs? I promise I'll come back."

The Doctor, he decided not for the first time, really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. The Master smiled back, releasing his hold on the Doctor's hair (he couldn't decide if it was more or less ridiculous than his previous body's, quite honestly) and giving him a condescending pat on the head, smoothing it back into whatever position it was supposed to be in.

And then, that smile not budging a millimeter, the hand down by his side curled into a fist and struck the Doctor squarely in the gut, hard. "I believe you've lost all of your privileges for the day."

The Master stepped back quickly, observing for a moment, before turning on his heel and striding out of the room. As he left, waving his hand carelessly to turn out the lights, he made a mental note to the House to try leaving the door unlocked tonight. He wasn't above a bit of vindictive baiting. And truly, there was nothing like a bit of false hope to underline how hopeless the Doctor's situation really was.

Now that did take him by surprise, the Doctor doubled over, the breath being forced out of his lungs in a rush. He was suddenly grateful for the Drudges as well, as it was only their presence and hold on him that stopped him from ending up curled on the floor.

Of course the House seemed to realise this immediately as well and released him a moment later, dropping the Doctor to sprawl at the Master's feet in pain, which he had no doubt would go down rather well with the other Time Lord. He'd be lucky if he ever heard the end of it.

He heard the Master turn on his heel a moment later and the Doctor slowly pushed himself off the floor, looking up to watch the Master leave as the room was plunged back into darkness and the door closed with an almost final click.

Edited 2010-08-29 08:50 (UTC)

Hours later, the Master sat in his study, bent over the half-disassembled screwdriver on his desk. Despite the fact he had the Doctor at his mercy, and things under his control, he was finding it difficult to concentrate fully on the task at hand. For one thing, there was the anger still coursing through him, the embarrassment at having his creation fail in front of the Doctor. Kicking apart the furniture might have been appropriate in any other House than this, and dashing the components he was laboring over was something he was struggling to resist.

For another, there was an almost palpable feeling of anticipation hanging in the air, both for the Master and the dispersed consciousness of the House. He kept replaying the mental image of the Doctor crumpled in a heap on the floor, over and over, until he was nearly consumed by impatience. When was the Doctor going to notice the door? When would he make his move?

It was with relief that he finally felt the House tense further, ready to spring, to play with the Doctor the way a cat might bat around a small rodent. The Master sat back, setting aside his tools for now so that he could listen keenly to the developing confrontation. For the first time since he'd left the Doctor, he had a smile on his face.

He knew it was probably a trap. It all but had 'trap' written across it in huge, flashing letters, after all. The Master had been set on keeping him in this room before, so why would he leave the door unlocked now?

But even though he knew it was a trap, the Doctor knew he would try it anyway. There was the very, very faint chance that the Master, in thinking that he had complete control over the House and everything in it, would have left something the Doctor could use. A mistake, an open window, a piece of information... something like that. He had to try, even if it was entirely likely to end badly.

Besides, it was that or sit around bored with a puffy cheek and an aching stomach all night.

The Doctor moved slowly to begin with, nudging open the door and taking a look outside for any Drudges. Of course there weren't any to be seen; he was fairly certain that the House and the Master would allow him to get just far enough to think he'd made some sort of progress before they tried stopping him. That was alright, he was used to people trying that. The bit he liked was when he surprised them by getting that far and then even further before they'd worked out how. Now he just had to hope that he'd have a brilliant idea on how to do that before he got caught again.

The hallway and rooms beyond the one he'd been kept in were also dark, which didn't lessen the 'trap' feeling any further, but the Doctor continued anyway, carefully feeling his way around in the dark and sorely missing his sonic screwdriver. Without it or some other form of light, he had no way of knowing how many other doors or other possible exits he might be missing in the dark, meaning the House itself was guiding his footsteps now. Hardly an ideal situation there.

Something moved and the Doctor froze, taking a moment to check that yes, it wasn't the sort of movement he should expect from something in a dark room that wasn't a Drudge, then broke into a run. However, if the House was expecting him to try and run away from the Drudge, it was going to be surprised. The Doctor had no intentions of going back the way he came and instead darted forward, under a wooden arm and through the room, searching for some sort of light or outline that might suggest another door, hopefully one leading somewhere more useful.

It was the oddest sensation. The Master could feel the Doctor moving around the House, almost as if he were tiptoeing across his brain, traveling along his nerve endings. Not at all like the inherent connection Time Lords usually had. The closest thing to it was when he'd been connected to Archangel, or even the shared consciousness of the cheetah planet, peering through the eyes of Kitlings. But even that wasn't nearly the same. It certainly hadn't felt like this even yesterday. The link was growing.

He'd been quite expecting the Doctor to do the unexpected at some point, and consequently so had the House. Though it couldn't prepare for everything at once, he'd helped it lay a few traps. And, probably due to his own predilections, it was learning, much faster than the Master would have expected. When the Doctor began running, the Master barely needed to suggest a thing; the House had already elected to set a wardrobe in his path where there had been none, a spare foot away.

Edited 2010-08-30 03:35 (UTC)

It was too dark for him to see more than a suddenly deeper patch of shadow loom in front of him, far too close to be avoided in time. The Doctor crashed heavily into what turned out to be a decidedly unmoveable object. He fell back, clutching at his head and wondering in a vague way exactly how many bruises he was going to be leaving the House with, and how he'd explain them to anyone who asked.

Heavy footsteps vibrated through the floor as the Drudge he'd spotted earlier, barely seen in the darkness, came closer. It seemed to take its time picking him up off the floor, almost as though the House were half-hoping he'd make another attempt at running. That alone gave him a fair idea how well that would go.

Which meant, he reflected as the Drudge set him on his feet and started forcibly marching him back to his room, that he wouldn't be able to solve this as easily and painlessly as he'd hoped. He'd try again, of course, when he next spoke with the Master, but the chances of that working...

The Master couldn't contain himself any longer; as the Doctor ran straight into the wardrobe without stopping, he erupted in hysterical laughter. It was a bit disappointing that the Doctor didn't try anything else, though the House was providing him with ample opportunity. But he could already feel the knot of tension dissipating, the drums receding just enough in the wake of his mirth for him to return to work.

Unfortunately, his calm wouldn't last long. The next morning the screwdriver was once again repaired, but the Master found himself preoccupied with a panic he couldn't quite name, worse than anything the drums had provided. The House rumbled slightly in disquiet as he made his way to the Doctor with swift strides, determined to quell this one way or the other.

The Doctor looked up as the door opened again to admit the Master, frowning at the bright light that came with the arrival.

"Can't say I think much for the hospitality of the House of Oakdown," he commented, not moving from where he was seated casually against the far wall. "You call this room service? No breakfast or dinner, not even any water or other things. It's enough to drive someone mad with boredom."

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed the Master seemed tenser than he had before. It was subtle, he'd grant him that, and the Doctor might have even missed it if it weren't for the fact he had no idea what would have brought it on.

"Don't suppose there's something on your mind, is there?" he asked carefully.

Edited 2010-08-30 07:38 (UTC)

"Shut up," the Master snapped, just as much to the House as to the Doctor, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. This was already not going well. He pulled the screwdriver from his jacket, letting the weight of it comfort him as he turned it over and over. It wasn't much, but it was something. If the Master had to suffer, so did the Doctor.

"Hungry, are you?" He finally looked up, forcing a grin onto his face that felt far too stiff. "We'll have to fix that. I'm sure I could always find another dog dish around here somewhere."

In a quick movement the Doctor rose from where he was seated and advanced on the Master, stopping a short distance away and folding his hands behind his back as he spoke.

"Come on, hasn't this gone on long enough already? You're not going to be able to keep me here, you know. Even with this House and your screwdriver - made from mine, don't forget - it won't work."

He rocked on his heels, a little battered and bruised, but no less confident in himself and his chances for escape. "Just let me leave now, and I'll go. You keep to yourself while I get everyone home again, no one gets hurt, and we can pick this up again later."

He smiled faintly. "Think of this as the final offer to make a change, do something different for once. To be the best that you can be instead of what you are."

That the House was slow to restrain the Doctor was worrying enough. That the Master actually had to steel himself against taking a step back as the Doctor rushed toward him was even worse. After his initial look of apprehension, though, he stared coolly back, sending a sharp mental rebuke to the House for allowing the other Time Lord to come so close to its Master. The Drudges approached the Doctor from either side with instant obedience, but their movements were timid, and far too slow, as if waking from a long dream. The Master sighed, repocketing the screwdriver before reaching forward to grab the Doctor by the lapels of his jacket in an attempt to show the House how it was done.

"I happen to like what I am," he informed the Doctor.

The Doctor glanced over at the Drudges, tilting his head at their hesitance, and his smile widened ever so slightly as he returned his attention to the Master.

"Looks like something's bothering it," he said quietly. "I wonder what that could be?"

He didn't fight back as the Master grabbed his jacket, and in fact leaned forward a little to continue speaking in a hushed, secretive tone. "Are you really? When you could be so much more, this is what you're happy with?"

"Don't get too excited, Doctor. Considering how easily you've gone down, it probably doesn't see you as that much of a threat anymore."

But the Master's face was deadly serious, his eyes searching and his mind a whirling mess of panic. He didn't like the way the Doctor was smiling. He didn't like it one bit. What if he'd a plan all this time, had simply been toying with the Master instead of the other way round? What if he, and the House, couldn't stop him? What would the Doctor do?

He swallowed down the anxiety and shoved the Doctor backwards, hard. "'So much more'?" the Master smirked. "I hope you aren't using your own pathetic existence as comparison there."

"Doesn't it?" he asked. "Well that's... good."

He studied the Master's face, smiling even further and continued. "I mean, I'm alone with no real plan, no one knows I'm here, no sonic... Nothing to lose... what does it have to be afraid of?"

The Doctor stumbled back a few steps with the force of the shove, but it didn't really bother him much at all. It was something else that suggested the Master wasn't as much in control of the situation as he liked to be, and the Doctor couldn't help but do his best to build up that feeling in the other Time Lord by taking his time to smooth and straighten his jacket before answering.

"No, not just me. You're not stupid, after all, got a brilliant mind ticking away in there. But you could use it for so many better things than this."

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sorry

fft, for what? XD

Oh, editing that like 3 times. Not for the violence of course.

Well I do my fair share of editing too so...

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