dear_mun | New muse- please be gentle!

I'm sure I don't.

That can be true, I suppose, depending on the person. My best mate's a bit mad. Or a lot mad, depending how you look at it

Yes, I know. I'm an old friend of his.

Well, frienemy.

Old friend.....? What's your name, then?

I'm the Master.

Or Harry, I suppose, if you like that better.

[It takes Clara a moment to process that one.]

The Master... So I'm sure it's safe to assume that you're who Missy used to be.

Used to be, might have been, is an alternate of . . . something like that. *He grins madly for a moment, then sobers.* Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you or anything. Today is a reasonably sane day.

Reasonably sane? Well... I suppose a "Thank you" is in order for you not wanting to kill me.

I still have war drums in my head and an intense desire to blow something up, but that's perfectly normal for me. Fucking drums.

Welcome, welcome.

I can't imagine.

I can show you, if you'd like?

[She really doesn't know about that, Harry. Your mind sounds like a scary place. But... Maybe it would help her understand better.]

Um... I suppose so, yeah.

*Don't worry, he'll tone things down as much as he can.*

Alright, then. It's easiest if we're touching, but I can understand if you'd rather not--and it would probably be a bit too much for you anyway. So here we go.

*And the drumming begins, dadadadum dadadadum. With it comes dadadadum dadadadum the urge to do violence, to conquer, to be at war dadadadum and stay at war dadadadum. There are flickers of horrible and unbelievable memories dadadadum; the knowledge that his entire life is a rewriting of some other, happier dadadadum life dadadadum; the endless hunger that makes him want to eat her right now but at least distracts him from those fucking drums dadadadum. And, somewhere down deep, a faded memory of times Before, and playing with another small boy that looks very different, but is somehow filled with dadadadum Doctor-ness.*

[Clara is instantly overwhelmed. So much madness, so much much sorrow, so much... pain. The drumbeats, which sound a lot like... Heartbeats? They are beautiful, and maddening, and terrifying all at once. And the flickers and flashes are just the same. It's too much. Too, too much. If he'd gone full blast, she's sure she'd be blubbering beyond control now. And screaming. Instead, the tears are only welling up in her eyes, and she's whispering.]

Stop. Please, stop.

*He nods and gently disengages.* It's far worse for me, and I've had them since I was eight years old. I think if they ever left I'd die of shock.

So don't hate me, okay? Whatever the other me did, they did it because it made the drumming a tiny bit quieter, and because it's all that I still really understand.

I'm so sorry... Harry. [And she means it. No one should be cursed to deal with that. Especially not for multiple lifetimes.

She wipes at her eyes.]

I don't hate you. I pity you. Thank you for turning it off... And helping me to understand.

*He winces a bit, but nods.* Pity isn't that much fun, but I've had enough hate to last me another 20 lifetimes by now, so I'll take what I can get.

*TaptaptapTAP go his fingers for a moment, before he forces them into a fist.* I think I like you, you know, so I promise I won't kill you. Although I can't always help hurting people a bit, so watch for that.

[The Master likes her. Should she be worried? Somehow, someway, she finds that she isn't. She also finds herself wishing she could help him. ]

Well, thank you for that, too.

[She's honestly not sure what else to say.]

People who like the real me are rare enough that I can't waste them, that's all. *But he's smiling at her, and it's not said in a particularly serious tone.*

[She didn't say she liked him, did she? But maybe she did. Sort of. A bit. She knew she felt sorry for him. Was that the same?]

I think The Doctor still likes you... He still talks about you. That the real reason you haven't killed him yet?

*He sighs.* I still like him, too. Most of my good memories are of him, back when we were children.

He told me you were like brothers once.

[Which makes it really weird, that as a woman, he kissed him. But she's not going to say that at loud.]

He's my everything, and sometimes I hate him for being so. Sibling rivalry, if you will. Because I love him, and of course the drums can't have that.

[Oh, Harry. She wants to hug you, but she's really kind of afraid to.]

I'm sorry, Harry. I wish we could turn them off.

Edited 2015-01-01 03:03 (UTC)

I'm not sure my old hearts could take the shock. They've been there for a thousand years or more, what would I be without them?

But thank you for the thought. I can always stand to have more well-wishers.

New muse- please be gentle!

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Keywords, Harry. Keywords. xD

:D

Your Master is brilliant, by the way.

Thank you! :D

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Are you on sixwordstories at all?

I used to post there with another muse awhile back, but nothing with this one yet.

I play there mostly, so feel free to say hi :D

I will. xD

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