syncopath | but none of 'em were home inside the catacomb (for twood

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but none of 'em were home inside the catacomb (for twood_rose)

He had no way of knowing how long he had been in the dark; it was a funny thing, perhaps, but even a Time Lord must concede (as much as it might personally gall him) that death is timeless by its very nature. Still, he remembered everything.

When he awoke, groggily, the first thing he did was clap a hand to his neck, expecting a mark or a hole where the persistent memory of pain told him it should be. There was nothing. A ghost feeling. He blinked twice and sat up.

The room was dim, dusty and unused, and the small sink in the corner rattled ominously before spitting out water of some unsavory color, but there was comfort, egregiously tiny as it may be, in washing up as best he could. He surveyed his surroundings again. Besides the mattress he'd woken up on (and who had placed him there?) the room boasted nothing else.

He knew when he was, but not where. Or why. Not for the first time, he wondered if it might not be a prison.

The Master took panicked strides toward the door, fully expecting it not to open when he yanked on the handle roughly, and almost falling backwards when he was proven wrong.

A maze of hallways spread itself before him, each equally dim and dusty as the room behind. As the Master began to walk, it became obvious what he'd somehow known from the moment he opened the door. It wasn't a prison.

It was a ruin.

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The Master had to laugh at that, and if it sounded slightly bitter, well. "Oh, Rose Tyler. The Doctor's penchant for bold and slightly pathetic expressions of sentiment is most definitely rubbing off on you."

He regarded her narrowly. "And what exactly is it that you've missed? Do tell."

Rose's mouth opened, silently...

And then she blushed, and dropped her head.

"I've missed your company," she said softly. But that wasn't it. She missed his touch, his whispers, the moments they had spent together exploring each other, Rose reaching out to touch the darkness.

"Company," the Master spat out, and then barked another angry laugh. She'd made it patently obvious, once, whom she preferred to spend her company with.

"I am not your pet," he hissed, his face darkening. But still, he stayed where he was, almost as if he were afraid to come any closer, but equally afraid to leave, like a cat on tenterhooks.

Rose swallowed, and nodded.
"You're right. You're not. I'm sorry."

She turned, to continue exploring, convinced he didn't want her there.

The Master sagged a little against the wall as Rose turned to leave-- whether out of relief, or disappointment (or likely a mix of both) he wasn't entirely sure.

Then his eyes narrowed, and his hand dove into his pocket.

"Rose," he called out, in a stronger voice this time.

She turned, and took a step back toward him.

"Yeah?"

She didn't want to leave him, but she also didn't want to stick around if he didn't want her there.

He had just pulled his laser screwdriver out, aimed in her general direction, and was staring at her with an inscrutable look on his face.

"Duck," he said simply, before firing just above her head.

((ooc: he's shooting something lurking above her; if you want to identify it, have it be dead or still alive, go right ahead))

Her heart stopped when he aimed at her...

Then he ordered her to duck, and she hit the dirt. The laser flashed over her head, and there was an inhuman screech as a huge, black, hairy thing with way too many legs crashed to the ground. It twitched and flailed, and Rose scrabbled backwards, away from the thing and toward the Master.

"What is it?"

"An enemy," the Master muttered cryptically. "An old one." He walked past Rose in clipped strides and toward the flailing limbs, almost casually. He stopped a few feet away from the creature and peered down at it with a trace of disgust.

"Far from home, aren't you?" he asked it conversationally, before firing point blank at the hulking mass.

Rose cringed as with one final unearthly squeal the creature shuddered, then went still. She lifted her eyes to the Master, her heart beating fast, panting slightly with fear.

"You... you saved my life," she managed.

The Master turned his head from the ruined creature and met her gaze coldly. His calm expression was bordering on sinister. "I did," he confirmed.

The gears switched again and he straightened, returning the screwdriver to his pocket and brushing invisible dust off his lapels. "Of course, there is little point in stating the obvious."

"Just..." Rose stood up carefully, and brushed the dirt off her jeans. Then she straightened, and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

"Thank you."

The Master stood there, watching Rose pick herself up without thinking to offer his assistance. He was not particularly used to being thanked, unless it was forced, and he found he had no immediate reply handy. Rassilon, he wasn't about to say "You're welcome."

"There are more of them," he finally said. "The 'Yllax tend to breed rather quickly. Not ones for foreplay."

It was probably as close to an invitation for her to accompany him as she would ever get.

She nodded, and approached him.

"Where do you think we can go to be safe from them?"

She asked it hesitantly, not sure that she had correctly read the information as an invitation.

The Master smirked slightly, thinking of the little suite he'd left, complete with dusty mattress. Just like the old days.

"I was given the impression at our last encounter that you were quite done with 'safe'. How disappointing that you've changed your mind." And he raised an eyebrow at her before turning abruptly on his heels.

"Come on, then."

Rose huffed.

"Well. If that's the way you're going to be about it. I was only going with you because I thought you were offering to fend off these things. But if I'm to be done with 'safe...'"

She turned and started heading off on her own.

The Master whirled around, mildly and inexplicably panicked, and watched her begin to storm off.

"Rose. Come back now. There's a good girl," he blurted out the commands pathetically.

She stopped, and turned. For a moment she regarded him silently, then with a small sigh she walked to him, and held out a hand.

By the time Rose had returned to his side, the Master had managed to get himself at least a little back under control. He took her hand easily, giving her a paternal sort of look. Still, his hand trembled slightly over hers as he spoke.

"One bite," and he gestured to what was left of the 'Yllax, "Carries enough toxin to end your life. That's not what you want, is it?"

She shook her head slowly. "No."

She glanced down at their hands, and squeezed gently. "How about you?" Her voice was soft, and when she looked back up and into his eyes, the concern in them was clear and genuine.

He peered at her with a frown, taken aback by her question, her gaze, the feel of her hand in his.

"What do you mean?"

"What happens to you if you get bitten?"

She unconsciously eased a touch closer, still looking into his eyes with concern.

"Total paralysis within the hour," the Master informed her distractedly. "Give or take. Why? Planning my demise?" Her expression made it plain that wasn't the case, but he couldn't resist thinking the worst of humans.

After all, he'd been one.

She blinked.

"Of course not," she answered. "I've never wanted to hurt you. You must know that..."

Again she gently squeezed his hand.

The Master hissed in a breath, extracted his hand suddenly. "You're--"

You're surprisingly adept at it.

Couldn't say that.

"We should keep moving."

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"In the third act, Superman should fight with a giant $%$#ing spider."

Ha!

Re: Ha!

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