Nov. 24th, 2013

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The Master ignored the scathing looks from the others as the Doctor escorted him to the TARDIS in handcuffs that the Freak had been so kind to add as a fashion accessory for him. They didn't understand why it was that they shouldn't just get rid of him and, oh, he'd goaded them, pushed them a final time to try and force the mob's hands as it were.

"Go on then. Do it."

But the Doctor, oh that sanctimonious, sentimental old fool had talked them all down. He'd told them that it wasn't the way. That more blood wasn't the answer and that it was the Doctor's responsibility to look after him now.

Like he was some sort of pet.

Once they made their way into the TARDIS, Jack, Martha and the others hanging back because they couldn't abide being in the same place for long with the Master, he glowered at the other Time Lord across the ruined console.

"Well, then. It's trading a prison with the stunted little apes to being your captive companion, is it? Go on, Doctor, let the healing begin. Make me better," he sneered.

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The Master

November 2013

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