“Are you her? DO tell me you are. Oh, it’d be delicious that I stumbled across the Doctor’s most super-powered contraband Companion.”
There’s something undeniably charismatic about the Master’s voice, something terribly charming about his comportment and his convivially intrigued face.
“am i ‘her’?” well this is NEW. not the whole ‘bein’ recognized by total strangers’ bit — she got MORE than enough of that working with unit. being referred to as the doctor’s ‘most super-powered contraband companion’ on the other hand… that one set off a few ALARM BELLS, though the charisma &. charm that exuded from the man certainly did its part to try &.offset that.
what sort of person referred to a companion as contraband anyway?
“ gonna have to be a bit more specific than THAT, mate. ”
“HehHAHHHH!”
The Master applauds Rose–be it her spunk, her wit or her existence that spurs this, one cannot be certain. But he radiates satisfaction.
“You are. You absolutely are Rose Tyler. Oho, oi, you and me, mate, we’re a pair of blondes with brown eyes, and look, the aesthetic’s on par. Lots of glam, heavy eye makeup, I’m living the dream right now. I’m this close to incorporating pink into my wardrobe because of looking at you.”
He offers a hand smugly.
“If you’re as dear to the Doctor as she says, you’ve heard of me. I’m the Master. Congratulations on being you. Because I like you, and I can count the people I like on the fingers of one hand.”
I was born on that planet, and so was my mum, and so was my dad, and that makes me officially the last human being in this room, ‘cos you’re not human. You’ve had it all nipped and tucked and flattened till there’s nothing left. Anything human got chucked in the bin. You’re just skin, Cassandra. Lipstick and skin.
“Are you her? DO tell me you are. Oh, it’d be delicious that I stumbled across the Doctor’s most super-powered contraband Companion.”
There’s something undeniably charismatic about the Master’s voice, something terribly charming about his comportment and his convivially intrigued face.
“Superior Time Lord biology, wouldn’t you have to eat a lot for those to even affect you? How many brownies did you have?”
“You mean t’tell me the Doct’r nev’r told you …” The Master clears his throat, and reaches out to grasp the side of the table firmly, against an undignified wave of dizziness. He squints, and focuses ferociously on enunciation. “ … abou-t. The highly compromising. Effects. Of ginger?”
He sinks down where he’s mistaken a chair to be; it’s about four inches back from where his ass lands, and he sits, decisively, on the linoleum.
“ … I meant to do that.”
Oh dear. I’m embarrassing myself in front of the Bad Wolf, who consumed the Heart of a TARDIS. How terribly unfortunate.
She looks good in pink. A blond in pink.
Huh.
Well that’s unexpected. Maybe I should add some pink to my wardrobe. Rather inspired, that.
Was it rude to laugh at an intoxicated person if they didn’t mean to be intoxicated? Probably, but Rose couldn’t stifle the giggle that burst past her lips. The Master was absolutely sloshed and on her floor. “He didn’t, but we never even drank together. Didn’t know ginger affected you this much. Ginger brownies are my mum’s specialty.”
For a man who talked about how almighty he was, seeing him in a state like this was quite amusing. It made her wonder what would happen if the Doctor got his hands on a few of these brownies. “Y’ need help over there? Wanna try sittin’ again?” She walked over and reached out a hand to help him up. The poor bloke.
“Why, my DEAR girl, I do believe I already AM. Sitting, I mean.”
A marked giddiness permeates the moment; Koschei snickers and it becomes a full-bodied cackle which is remarkably infectious.
“Ya MOOM, huh?”
He squints up at Rose thickly, but eventually accepts her hand, a miracle in and of itself, and further evidence both of his respect for this particular Companion, and his intoxication. He wobbles his ass into the nearest chair, leans back and blinks rapidly.
“Mm-HM. Maybe I’ll date her, and you can date the Doctor, and we’ll go on weird double-dates, and become the soobject of the next trashy … daytime … talk-show … Jerry … what’s that bloke’s name? Season … SPRINGER. We could go on Jerry Springer. How about that, Miss Rose Tyler?”
He snorts another laugh.
“I’m joost shitten’ ye, I’ll probably get jealous and try to kill you! Oho WOW. My internal monologue is GONE, Rose. What do I DO?! Heh-HAH!”
“Superior Time Lord biology, wouldn’t you have to eat a lot for those to even affect you? How many brownies did you have?”
“You mean t’tell me the Doct’r nev’r told you …” The Master clears his throat, and reaches out to grasp the side of the table firmly, against an undignified wave of dizziness. He squints, and focuses ferociously on enunciation. “ … abou-t. The highly compromising. Effects. Of ginger?”
He sinks down where he’s mistaken a chair to be; it’s about four inches back from where his ass lands, and he sits, decisively, on the linoleum.
“ … I meant to do that.”
Oh dear. I’m embarrassing myself in front of the Bad Wolf, who consumed the Heart of a TARDIS. How terribly unfortunate.
She looks good in pink. A blond in pink.
Huh.
Well that’s unexpected. Maybe I should add some pink to my wardrobe. Rather inspired, that.
“Must you? That’s fine, that’s … bloody dandy, Rose, just … absorb the Time Vortex and all I get out of knowing you is these lousy koalas. No that’s alright, don’t get up. I’m just marinating in glee, can’t you tell.”
Icarus 