sclfmastery
I'm Alive
"I'm not beat up by this yet | You can't tell me to regret | Been in the dark since the day we met | Fire help me to forget!" || “Blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.” ~Rumi | Indie | Multiverse | Simm and Dhawan Master RP Blog| Est. 2015 | Field Notes: Round But Sharp | Supreme Bitch | A Very Fast Bottom™ | Murderous Gay Whack-A-Mole | Basically a Tadigrade.
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died and came back exactly the same but something was so so so wrong with me before and now I have an excuse to really lean into it
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#i know people are mad about this but i expected it)#you have to establish what Fifteen stands to lose before the person who always shakes things up reappears)#i'm still sad but the gold tooth allows us to be certain he's still alive)#and that he will be reprised down the road)#i give it one to one and a half seasons)#just like with thirteen)#HOWEVER: i think we need to make it clear on social media that we want sacha back)#they'll listen because money)
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Something in me wants more. I can't rest.
— Sylvia Plath, from “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath.”
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me at simm master like, say you're obsessed with the doctor without saying you're obsessed with the doctor.
it doesn't matter how many times i've watched it, the master making the doctor a tiny brown suit to wear in his fetus form always has me howling laughing. the master might be diabolically evil but you've got to give it to him, he is funny
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What can I say, sometimes inspiration strikes and I have to answer the call.
Edit: yes, I did do it chronologically on purpose! And the ordering would be different if I ordered it based on my personal feelings of gender envy LMAO
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"Hmmn. Puzzling, but...I like it."
He circles the even taller, thinner Doctor, and marvels at the soft pang in his hearts, one of tenderness, at the lines and creases where once there was youth.
"Congratulations. Like yours truly, you've leveled up to DILF status., at my side."
He leans in close and snaps his teeth at the Doctor's nose.
"Flirt with me. Right now."
@sclfmastery asked for a starter with 14;
---~------~------~------~------~------~------~---
The Doctor sits there, on the cliff side, cross legged, just staring out at the sea, the setting sun glinting off the waters as the waves roll onto the sand down on the cove below him.
it was a peaceful place, and he had not expected anyone to actually find him - yes there was a blue police box standing not too far behind him on the tree edge, but it wasnt exactly too out in the open - though UNIT might be able to pin point it with their satellites.
But the connection that only Gallifreyans feel, gives away who it was from the start... (well, when the other got close enough that is.)
"It not the face you think it is..." He calls out without turing to the other, eyes still looking out at the water. "...I dont know why its a repeat, but it happened and now i just have to live with the mystery."
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He ought to delight in the suffering of the unwitting god from whom his ladder of amino acids and his soul were somehow formed.
But the moment the Master sees the screaming red burn on the Doctor's palm, a fierce and affectionate concern of many eons ago overrides his glee.
Only I get to hurt you, ever: and only you get to kill me. Mine, mine, mine. Yours, yours, yours.
"Don't--! Be an IDIOT, Doctor....!"
The Master, who is only Koschei, hastens to the Doctor's side, hunkered forward, hands drawn against his chest, fingers wriggling with the itch to touch. In the end one hand sneaks out from his trunk and cautiously catches a far smaller palm in his own.
Take my hand . . . . 'n e v e r '. . . .
"Doctor...."
The same pathetically reverent whisper of a charlatan prime minister on a telephone. Maybe it's best to embrace the inevitability of one's weaknesses, now.
He swallows, and collects himself.
"Electrical burns? Really, dear? We're not schoolboys making such...." He fishes in a bottomless purple blazer pocket for some ointment and bandages. "...such..elementary errors. Not anymore."
sclfmastery:
He’s in the TARDIS doorway; he doesn’t question how She would let him inside to see Her Pilot, but if She has, then his presence must hold some potentially positive purpose. Isn’t that novel.
He’s been watching the Timeless Child .stop, no…his best friend nononono, dangerous terrain, Master, you know you’re not her first anything anymore… the Doctor, yeah…the Doctor, all the big and little, complex and simple things that title implies…for fifteen minutes. Or maybe thirty seconds. Or maybe seventy-seven years. Whatever. Since swallowing both the Matrix and the Cyberium, he’s had less of a clear sense of time in quantifiable terms.
And she hasn’t turned around once.
Contact.
God, how poetic, how apt. Her back to him.
Look at those little capable hands, smudged in engine grease. Look at that hair, like lemon Italian ice in the heat of August; he wants to consume her even now. Feel that mind, multifarious, an exploding rocket of thoughts and suppositions.
(I love you. I LOVE you…! Don’t you miss me? )
(Don’t you need me, anymore?)
(Did you ever?)
I said, contact. Rude!
“Are you going to keep ignoring me?” he snaps, and winces at how childish and peevish it sounds, compared to the enduring truth of his passion just to be near her. “I’m unarmed, before you do something dramatic.”
The TARDIS was her only real comfort, these days. Her only friend.
She hardly noticed as the Master stood in the doorway; a mere presence tugged at her mind, but she dismissed it as a figment of her overactive imagination.
Her companions were noisy. All humans were, really; they couldn’t help it. They made no efforts to shield their thoughts and so the Doctor could hear them, all of them, even the things she’d really rather not.
She’d needed quiet.
Only the TARDIS could provide that—a safe space away from it all, where she could control the lights and the sounds, where no one would judge her.
The wires sparked in her hands.
You’re not alone, the TARDIS whispered.
Finally, she turned towards him and stared with wide eyes.
When had he gotten there?
She lifted a hand and let out a strangled sound, half-distress and half-greeting. Her palm was red and smarting.
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Ooh. Oh, my. That smarts.
She doesn't know who he is, she doesn't know the damage she's doing him. How could she connect him to the blond prime minister who filled the planet with his face, years ago?
But God, does she have to keep saying that name?
The Master bodily shudders, a shift of ancient plate tectonics that shivers out right between his teeth, as a strangled growl. He barely reobtains composure before Donna's too-perceptive eyes fall on his figure.
By the time he steps out from the shadows, dirty, clammy, shuddering with brief floods of intravenous gold--a fugitive from a power still greater than himself and the Doctor combined--he's at least smiling.
Yet the words, husky and frail, are so strangely sad:
"Ssso. Is he really happy now?"
( @sclfmastery liked for a starter )
Donna felt the first tendrils of panic wrap itself around her. She pushed back at it, determined to stay in control. She could do this. After all, she had been traveling with the Doctor for some time now --- this was hardly the first life or death situation she had been placed in.
(it was just the first without the Doctor)
Okay, full blown panic was imminent. She needed him to keep her grounded (or at least a level below manic). She heard a noise that reminded her that she was on a planet that she could not even pronounce. She didn't waste a beat, running over the unfamiliar terrain.
"DOCTOR!" Her voice could be heard for miles no doubt. "Where the bloody hell are you?!"
#ic#anoblewomxn#this is so late good lord. i understand if you've lost interest <3 )#donna noble tag#i would set this after the Toymaker's appearance and after the Master somehow LOL got out of the tooth)#master of a nothing place (dhawan)
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Quickfire hot take but, even though I totally grasp each of us having favorite regens of the doctor and the master, both individually and together, as symbols of their ever-evolving positions along their personal and relationship journey.... I will never ever understand fan (or canon...) portrayals that draw such a sharp line of favoritism from the characters themselves.
Missy said "they're all the Doctor to me" when recalling a memory to Clara, and to me that encapsulates the enduring nature of their intense bond. To me that is THE line. Regeneration is a form of death and rebirth, but certain core traits are immutable, particularly to two people who are narrative foils, who have known each other for centuries (or possibly millennia) and keep being thrown together by fate again and again and again.
Bottom line is, every Doctor is the same person, and so is every Master. Acting as though one of them only cares for select versions of the other is just so strange to me. They aren't us. To them, it's just like loving (or hating, or both) someone through the eras of their life. Their same life, broken down into stages od evolution and devolution. It's the same person.
I can point to the exact episode (a lol very polarizing episode in Series 10) where I think this "they're not the same person from face to face" trend got exponentially more pronounced, but anyone who knows me knows what that episode is. I truly believe it's a disservice to every version of every Doctor and Master involved.
And I really don't think that Spydoc, which came soon thereafter, is just the playing-out of the consequences of a MASSIVE miscommunication between soul mates. It IS that, but not JUST. I think all of the writing about Thoschei that followed the exacerbating episode was trying to force this inaccurate distortion, this illusion of separateness, which is part of what made the events in Power of the Doctor so painful to Thoschei fans. The Doctor walked away from the Master (literally and figuratively, ironically inviting his inevitable despair--and her own demise) partly out of understandable hurt and rage and caution, but also out of a cold, repulsed misunderstanding: "Missy was willing to change and you regressed, you're a different person than she was, and you have angered me to the point of indifference; I am able to turn off caring about you because you are unrecognizable from her, the version of you that I could control save."
Maybe Whittaker's response is intended by Chibnall: we're supposed to recognize that she's wrong but HAS to be in order to survive another betrayal by the Master, which is what makes it all so tragic.
But I think fan reception has taken the whole thing ( "each Doctor and each Master is an entirely discrete self-contained being") too far, and it bothers me, so much, I think, because it's a trope that enforces the idea that love is transactional and contingent (in such a way that also perhaps unwittingly targets the socially, culturally, and economically marginalized). If you're the "good, small, manageable version" of yourself, then you're easier to love, and it's worth the investment. Otherwise, "you gambled and you lost," and you deserve to die lying in the filth of your own poor decisions. I get why that's an appealing, vindicting plot device, from the POV of an audience member who has felt hurt or even abused IRL. I understand it, I've BEEN the Doctor many times. It just doesn't sit well with me. Maybe that's just me. I could be at peace with that, as a Whovian :P.
But, in-universe, it's based on a premise that's factually erroneous! Dhawan's Master IS Missy IS Delgado IS Simm IS Jacobi IS Ainley IS Roberts IS Beevers etc etc etc. Just as Whittaker's Doctor is a RESPONSE to Capaldi's, but ALSO still IS Capaldi's. And Tennant's. And Baker's (x2). And Eccleston's. And Gatwa's. And Pertwee's. Etc etc. Dhawan's Master was the Prime Minister of the UK and also made chairs that eat people and also cried remembering the names of people she killed. It's the SAME PERSON.
Lol, not quickfire at all. It's an old bone to pick, I know. I just can't stop finding the whole trope...very itchy.
(ok to reblog...dunno if anyone would, LOL, but feel free to reblog and to comment).
I'm gonna tag some ppl I know I've chatted about this with before to see if there are new insights. And feel completely free to disagree with me on any count. @natalunasans @mostincrediblechange @drummingncise @modernwizard @nickcagestrufflehog @rearranging-deck-chairs @koschei-no-more @likeacharacterinamusical
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‘I forgive the world because it has you’ always leaves me gasping for breath
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The Doctor will smell the same musk and loam and sharp cleanness of two dozen or more faces. There's minty cinnamon, a heady cologne of sandalwood mingled faintly with engine grease: all of it warm.
Roasting, the Master's cheeks., but he folds into the embrace with the finality of a filing cabinet drawer closing, or linens pulled from their clothesline, creased and steamed and put away for a season. Only he's not putting himself away, he's offering himself up, and ignoring the frantic rhythm of his two hearts, the fear of violating his own radical need for autonomous self-governance.
He just holds on tighter. His question is muffled into the Doctor's stripey, itchy-sweet wool sleeve.
"This is what you wanted....yes?"
🫂 (hehoo)
@sclfmastery // send 🫂 to hug my muse!
How many times will the Doctor be the one offering the Master a hug, and how many times will the Master take it? Almost never, and for the Master to initiate is even more rare, so the Doctor takes them where he can.
He's so, so incredibly starved for touch in this regeneration -- since the Moment, really, not that he remembers why. But he does remember the loneliness he felt afterwards, especially after every companion leaves and more especially after the Valiant.
So when the Master comes in for a hug, the Doctor - Theta - hugs back, tight, and silent, and letting Koschei take what he needs. Tucks his face into his lover's neck and breathes him in.
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"........"
"No. Put them back. Except maybe the black one."
@sclfmastery // starter call!
The Doctor, inexplicably, has a baby carrier strapped to her chest, in which five kittens doze; most are some variant of white and grey, with one being pure black. She coos to them in Gallifreyan as she makes her way back to the TARDIS.
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"Been a hot century...."
"Anyone MISS me?"
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There's a scene in Terror of the Autons where The Doctor realises the The Master is stuck on Earth and he bursts out laughing.
Almost at the same time in the narration The Master acknowledges The Doctor as a formidable enemy.
This really sums them up. The Doctor stealing a piece of his friend's tardis to fix his own and then being glad his former friend is stuck with him. His friend being stuck in this love/hate admiration of The Doctor from day one on the show.
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HI REMEMBER WHEN THEY SAID THE DOCTOR HAD ONE CONSTANT COMPANION? AND IT WAS DEATH? REMEMBER WHEN THEY SAID THE MASTER WAS DEATHS CHAMPION. REMEMBER THE MASTER DESCRIBING HIMSELF AS DEATH. (“BECOME ME, BECOME DEATH”). WHAT DO WE THINK LADS
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