asgardmeridiem | [closed] by daisies and twilights

Current Mood: accomplished

Entry tags:

[closed] by daisies and twilights

Who: ~~The Master~~ Harry Saxon, Ril, Six, Eleven
What: Late tea becomes dinner with wholly unintended side effects.
When: Evening, 343
Where: Sky's Prize
Rating: ~~H for horrible and inadvertent poisoning.~~ We'll go with R for 'Ril will never drink again.' Drugs aren't cool, stay in school. [CW] For really bad things that happen when bodies decide that alcohol is stupidly toxic.

There was a note on the fridge addressed to Six (because she was certain he'd want to know) that said she was out to a late tea, really dinner, with Harry Saxon, and that she ought to be back at some point that evening. Her penmanship was tiny, neat, and precise, but she signed her name with a flourish in bright red ink. It had been completely spur of the moment--too late for lunch, too late, really, even for tea. But she'd needed air (as if there wasn't any at home) and the walk would do her well. Her celery green dress swirled around her ankles and she tugged her long jacket with its richly decorated trim around her a little more. It was cool enough that a jacket was a wise choice in the evening. At the last moment, she'd gone and snagged herself a colorful scarf. Ril's got the hang of her shoes, which were not as tall as the other pair she'd picked up, at least, and doesn't miss a beat as she heads toward Sky's Prize.

It's company and she does enjoy the time spent, even if she can't seem to get a handle on her tastebuds. Eventually, things would have to stop tasting like ash. Eventually. It has to do with Eth, she knew that, but for now, she left it be as she leaned against the wall next to the door and glanced up at the clouds rolling in.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well I always say that it's worth studying other cultures and it's always always best to start with the food and the drink. And whatever else is fun. The serious stuff can wait till later, yes?" the Master went around and took a seat himself, adjusting his tie playfully as he picked up the menu already sitting at the table. He was sure she could handle ordering her own food and he wasn't all that hungry so it was hardly a priority.

Naturally, he was far more interested in picking the best and most interesting looking wine. Price wasn't always important, sometimes it was the style or taste. It took him a few moments to work out which vintage and kind would impressed and swiftly remove all sobriety.

"So where do you come from then? It's not Earth, is it?"

Ril flicked through the menu and frowned a little. She'd surely need to eat something, perhaps the fishies. That would be new. Or the herd animals, the ones she'd seen flipping through books and watched on tri-vids. Chickens?

Wine went with particular flavored meats, she'd see what he had in mind before she made a choice.

"No, not this Earth folk talk about." She shook her head slightly, glancing at him from across the table. "Antedis Prime, First Sector, galactic core worlds. It's not what you would call a particularly beautiful planet. Mostly city save for the wastes."

The Master held up his hand to summon a waiter over, not even bothering with pleasantries. He just tapped over the name of the wine he wanted and passed the menu over. He didn't really need food, he had free bread and he could just get a dessert. Hunger was annoying but it was easily solved with empty calories. Once the waiter departed, the Master crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, feigning interest in her yammering.

"So you're an alien then? Huh, that's different. So is it anything like Earth there? Cause you look a lot like one," the Master pointed out, racking his brain to work out if he recognised the name of the planet.

It didn't ring a bell but then he rarely frequented junk heaps. He preferred a little class and a nice city centre.

"I'm not sure what Earth even is, besides a planet," she said, ordering something light since she had little in the way of appetite. "I don't recognize the name at all. It's definitely not on my start charts. My planet was among those decimated in the Weeping, so we have had climate issues for thousands of years. It necessitated the massive city build project that has turned the world into what it is. All of the large land and sea animals perished and burned along with a few billion inhabitants. My family line barely escaped on the last liner out. The planet has only been habitable via the use of weather machines since that time and it has taken us a great deal of time to recover."

Her eyes, circled in silver seemed to gather the ambient light and reflect it back, and, as she looked up the effect was similar to a glow. She shook her head lightly.

"We are a race with a significantly higher ratio of talented folk in healing, telepathy, telekinesis, and those gifted in mechanics. There is a subset of those who encourage the growth of flora. Nothing seems to take in the wastes though. I suppose it's tainted ground."

"It's a little blue and green ball that's shockingly tiny. Really, when you think about it, it's not that important. Nothing more than a speck. And yet you wouldn't think it, the way people go on about it," He said it all with good humour but he didn't find it amusing. Not even slightly. It drove him mad, actually, how much importances was given to such stupid little apes. How they seemed to have this foolish idea that somehow they were the moral high point and worth saving. He'd seen some of the worst atrocities happen on that little rock. And yet the Doctor still fought for it. What a stupid hypocrite he was.

Getting so wrapped up in his own eternal hate for Earth, his brain barely registers... whatever she was saying. Something about her planet, right? He caught bits and pieces but he knew the story. Little planet, big war, she was all alone, blah blah. Who cared? That was the history of the universe summed up.

And as far as he could tell, they had little on the Time Lords. Still, he played polite, pretended to listen attentively and happily accepted the wine when it was brought over just at the end of that charming anecdote. "I'm sorry to hear that. Sometimes when the ground has been too far decimated, it's impossible to revive it."

"Been that way long enough that we don't bother," Ril said, frowning a little. "Anyway, what have you chosen, there?" She was rather curious about the wine. So many cultures seemed to love it as a beverage, grown from grapes, fermented, etcetera. She knew how it worked, certainly, how it was grown, a few customs from a vast quantities of culture, but she'd never had any.

She poured some into a glass anyway, curious enough, and took a careful sip.

Edited (because wine tasting) 2013-10-23 10:25 (UTC)

"I don't know but it seemed to be popular and highly rated so I figured I'd take a shot. We can both try it," the Master remarked playfully, letting her sample it before he poured himself a glass. He was a lot less cautious, but he did have a level of caution just in case it tasted like swill. Not unsurprisingly, it played pretty well. Definitely a keeper. Leaving the bottle in the middle of the table, he raised his glass in a half-hearted cheers gesture.

"It's pretty good, don't you think. Kind of oaky. I love that in a wine."

Oh. Well, it wasn't bad at all. Ril did see what he meant, yes. She took in a proper mouthful and her eyebrows arched. No, not bad at all, though it was a bit dry and too sharp just by a little. It meant she kept at it with various expressions as she worked out what flavors were in it.

"Mm," she said after a moment, "I would say it is rather good. And yes, that's what the bottom note of it is, then 'oaky' is a decent taste." She debated about another glass just to be sure, then gave in and poured one.

"A little sharp for me, I think. But perhaps another glass?"

"It'll grow on you. Most wines do unless they're particularly good. I never used to like wine but I think I adapted. Well that and I'm a different man these days," This regeneration definitely broke the pattern he'd had before. No beard, less black and more whimsy. Strange but new was always fun. And he kind of liked having a taste for wine now, it came in handy. Like now.

He looked over the contents once more before taking another sip. He vastly preferred scotch over wines but he found that was a bit less of a sociable drink.

And humans had this obsession with friendliness and being social. Grabbing the bottle, he leaned forward and poured her a new glass. "So, anyway, I had intended to apologise. For everything that happened at the party before? I was a bit drunk and I don't think my head was clear."

"Are you a different man, then?" Her eyebrows arched a little. "I do suppose tastes can evolve and change."

She tilted her chin slightly, then waved a bit.

"You didn't need to apologize," Ril said quietly, taking a long sip of her wine. It was starting to taste better, really. "These things, they happen. There was no damage done, after all."

"I hope so. I used to be a bit, erm, I don't know how to explain it actually. But I've changed. And with it, so have a lot of my tastes in things," He pointed out as he playfully raised his place, unable to help himself. Wine was actually the perfect drink right now, sociable alcohol that packed a hell of a punch.

Setting his glass aside, he dropped his head into his hand with a interested expression on his face.

"Well, I guess everyone gets to be a drunk jackass at least once. That was my time," the Master bragged, trying to look like he wasn't overly proud of himself. "So that guy you were dancing with? Boyfriend or just a close friend? I can't imagine he's as forgiving towards me."

"Mm, I suppose such things happen when you live awhile," she said quietly, offering up a smile. "Life is full of change, after all."

Ril gave him a long look as she swirled her wine around in her glass. There wasn't a definition. How did people define these things? 'Boyfriend' was too...vernacular and didn't capture the nuances appropriately, not to mention Six was hardly a boy. It was also quite plain and ordinary and ill fitting. 'Close friend' was so far behind she wasn't sure it had even existed or somehow they'd jumped straight over it. There were things you didn't say, things you couldn't, things that language failed at quantifying. And she didn't want to fly headlong into words when they just didn't work.

There was lover, which made her cheeks color ever so slightly, but that didn't fit either--not that they hadn't been intimately wrapped up in each other after the masquerade. Ah, no. That made it sound tame when it was far, far beyond that. Gods knew neither one of them couldn't resist touching, even if it was briefly. No. There weren't words for it, save one.

She took a long sip of wine and licked her lips absently.

"He is my...anchor in this place. My still point." Ril finally said. "And I should have gone mad without him. I wasn't the most stable upon arrival, after the gods severed my connection with my ship. He," her nails tapped the glass which rang a clear high note, "simply makes it better." She was quiet for a long moment, back to swirling her wine with an odd expression on her face that was sorrow and a mix of bright unconditional love, admiration, and a few other things that remained undefinable. Her eyes flicked to Harry's and her chin tilted.

"I shan't presume to speak for his state of mind, but, I think, if you'd like to apologize to him for your lapse in manners, that'd be a lovely gesture. But, that's your business with him, and not my own." Her lips brushed the rim of her glass and she took a longer sip before letting out a slight sigh that fogged her glass.

He was just going to assume anchor was a colourful and nicer way of saying 'that bloke I have sex with and think I'm bonded with emotionally because I'm entirely deluded'. She must of believed they were meant to be despite the fact he'd probably outlive her or simply tire of her. Doctor's didn't do monogamy and besides, that one had to regenerate anyway. Alas, this Ril person was not his future. Some add on vacation girl at best. With an inward sigh, he nodded along and pretended he was interested in this sickeningly flowery speech. He really hated romance and love, it was such a foolish notion. And sadly, she was smitten. As was the Doctor probably, he always fell for lessers.

That was simply his style. The easily amused and the interested, anyone who could play audience to him.

"It's nice that you found someone like that," the Master remarked, keeping a small smile on his face to look as if he was actually happy for her. He'd spent so long around humans, he knew how to mimic the needed emotions for certain situations. "I'm not so sure about the apology, he's quite the intimidating chap. Perhaps one day. If not, just feel free to let him know that I'm not a total dick? Just only sometimes."

"Necessary," she corrected absently, shaking her head minutely as she took a long sip of wine. It was tart, a little dry, perhaps. "For a Pilot without a ship, madness is the easy choice. I wasn't expecting to find someone to help keep that at bay--certainly not this well. Had he not been here, I might have truly gone mad. At least with a healing gift, I wouldn't have destroyed anything." Or herself. "I don't really know how anchor works, other than that there's a certain kind of compatibility, a mix of mental, physical, and emotional balance. Usually, one would think, my anchor would be in another Pilot. Oddly enough, my wingmate is not my anchor in my own universe."

It was a little troubling to know that for certain. And more so to realize that it was in a wholly new universe that she'd found an anchor at all. Her fingertips played against the stem of the wine glass as absent as her correction had been.

"I don't quite know how to explain it," she said quietly. "I'm also not going to apologize for you. If you want that relayed, you'll have to arrange it with him. I warrant you can handle yourself if need be. It's a dix word sentence." She squinted a little fuzzily, and finished her second glass.

"I'm sorry, there's two, for being, four, a dick -- there's six. Six words for Six. Done." Ril set her glass down.

"You're bonded to your ship then? Fascinating," Well, not really but it reminded him of Time Lord's with their TARDIS. He got it on some level at least. And he knew the easiest way to drive her mad anyway, get rid of Six. Easy job, wouldn't take much fuss. If she pissed him off or became a nuisance, it was a nice thing to have note somewhere. "Well, life's funny. You find love in the oddest places."

How could she even love that version of the Doctor without getting blinded by the coat? That made him feel nauseated half the time. And the way he talked, always so over the top. Was that actually what she liked? Cause he couldn't see why. Love was truly blind.

"I'm not asking you to apologise, just drop in a good word. But don't worry, point taken. I'll swing by sometime and offer an apology. Might make some peace," He had no intentions to but if it shut her up, why not?

With an amused smile, he couldn't help but lean back in his chair, strange pleased at what he'd accomplished here. She was drunk, very to be interrogated. That was kind of handy. "Where does he live then?"

"Mmn," she blinked a him for a long moment, her hum non-committal. "Follow the coat." Ril shrugged a little. She wasn't in the habit of giving out addresses in the first place, even if the wine was hitting her quite fiercely. If he wanted directions, he could call up Six himself. "Don't need a map. Can just call."

It's not terribly difficult to get in contact with folk, honestly. Or, really, to find out where they live. But why make it easy...and besides, her brain was muddled enough as it was. Thinking was becoming rather difficult.

"Well, I could call, but I have no idea what his name is. Six isn't it, is it? And I would say 'the Doctor' but I think I met another man called the exact same thing," the Master pointed out, just to be tricky. She was drunk, maybe he could muddle her mind enough to get some answers. "Besides, I don't intend to say. Just knock the door, say hello. If you don't want to say, that's entirely fine. Clara is still planning to send me the address anyway. I assume you all share?"

Clara did invite him and he could use that invite all he wanted now. It was wonderful. The only person he couldn't tell was the Doctor. He probably wouldn't take it overly well.

"Either way, I assure you that I'll get an apology to him one grand day, when I can find a way of contact anyway."

She eyed him for a long moment from across the table before pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Ril might have been muddled, but it wasn't as if she hadn't the training to deal with it, especially since she now felt as if she were being pressed for answers. Also. She cocked her head a little.

"I've never called him that," she murmured, flicking a glance to their attendant. "And if Clara sends. Sends you the address that's her p--" Thinking. Words. "Mm. Business." Once she got ahold of him, she leaned up, had a few short words, and slipped him just enough to pay for her own two glasses. "I'm going to--" She rose unsteadily, her fingers curling against the tabletop for a moment as she used it to push off vaguely in the direction of the door. "Go."

Ril frowned.

"Outside."

Home.

The Doctor had gotten back to the house and seen her note not terribly long after she'd left it, perhaps half an hour. He had to read it twice before the true meaning finished sinking in--Ril was out having dinner with the Master. What was she thinking, was she out of her mind...

Without waiting further, he'd stuffed the note in his pocket and headed back out the door, fuming and planning to do something loud and idiotic when he got to the bar. But it was a long walk, and by the time he'd actually gotten there, he'd cooled off enough to remember Eleven's words. Don't let him know you're on to him. Don't let him get you playing his games. Watch and wait and see.

...the upshot of which lead to him finding a convenient alleyway in which to lurk, straining his ears and eyes for any sign Ril might be in trouble, body tense with nerves and a muddled sort of jealous anger that he wasn't exactly sure what to do with so he just tried to ignore it. Every person that emerged made his heartbeat pick up, and then go crashing right back down again when it wasn't Ril or the Master.

This was ridiculous... he ought to just go in there, pretend he's there for a drink, strike up a conversation with the two of them, and... try very hard not to punch the Master in the face. Hmmm. Maybe not. He tried to be patient, tapping his fingers distractedly against cold brick. What were they doing in there? How long did a quick bite to eat take, for goodness sake.

Edited 2013-11-17 18:52 (UTC)

"I think you're reading me wrong," the Master said simply, not making a move from the spot he was sitting in. He didn't overly feel like making much effort to be nice right now so he stuck to neutral and calm, trying not to make a move either way. The react was so defensive to one question! Madness. He wasn't the one being a dick here. Well, okay, maybe he was. He was here to get information, after all, so everything else was just acting. But pretty good acting nonetheless. Oscar worthy. So, as far as he was concerned, he was being nice. Like all good humans were.

Ril wasn't. He didn't think that someone would have such a stroppy reaction on wine. It was meant to make people fun and chatty, almost every person he knew became much more fun when drunk. Total opposite with this one. Talk about unpleasant dinner guests. Lightweights always were.

Hopping to his feet, he swiftly made a point to help her navigate and move around. He was a gentlemen, he had to do it. A 'human' obligation, if you will. He steadier her with a firm grip whenever she went to fall into a waiter or a poor unsuspecting customer, offering a tentative smile alongside it to try and seem encouraging.

Hello, good citizen of the year over here! Protecting bypassers and helping a drunk lady home. He deserved a medal.

"Let me help you, you're clearly not used to your wine," the Master pointed out as he followed after her, seen as he was clearly the steadier one. He felt fine himself, though the wine was a little bland. Fitting considering the evening he was having. "Sorry if I made that worse, I didn't think, I suppose. Most people are fine with just a glass."

As they headed out into the night, the Master held the door open and gave space for Ril to get out safely. And hopefully she wouldn't just tumble to the ground cause he really wanted to get home now and this whole event was becoming slightly tedious. Could he call a cab here in Asgard? Or was it like a horse or something instead? "Is there anyone I can call to fetch you? Friend? Neighbour? ... Doctor? Or is he out tonight?"

Doing the usual Doctory things, probably. You know, rescuing puppies and reading to orphans. That kind of sickeningly stupid thing.

Not used to her wine was about right. Not used to probing questions, either, when she'd been fairly clear she wasn't giving out addresses. Then again, maybe she'd read the last wrong. Or it was the loss of control she didn't like. There were a thousand reasons, really. But she knew, very much, she was done for the evening. And she also knew, she didn't handle this particular drink well.

"I tend," she said quietly, "not to enjoy," and there, she had to keep ahold of him with a muttered fine as she let him help, "feeling pressed into giving out personal details. I'm a Pilot, for Priis' sake, not a--" She waved a little a the door, frustrated when her words wouldn't come. "A thing. Walking address. Mm. Lookup. I didn't spend the last decade or so training just to--" She cut herself off and concentrated on getting her feet and legs to cooperate. "Nngh. No. And no thank-you. I'm. I'm walking just fine."

Godsdammit. She had a hand on the rail and worked her way down the steps carefully, though not particularly steadily.

"See? Walking." If she tried turning round to address him properly, though, she'd never point herself right again. "All good."

The Doctor's ears pricked up when the latest couple came out--it was dark enough that he couldn't be certain who they were, but he was nearly certain he'd just heard his name. He quietly sneaked to the very front of the alleyway, trusting to the dark and the fact they didn't know he was here to keep him hidden.

He didn't stay there for long, though, just long enough to realize it's Ril's voice protesting about being able to walk. What the hell is the Master trying to do... he takes a moment to try and calm down a bit. What he's about to try and do won't work very well if he's emotional.

After a moment of that, the Doctor swings out of the alley and walks along briskly, as though he was out for a stroll. As he passes the two of them, he does a double take--careful, Doctor, don't overplay it--and draws himself to a halt. "Why if it isn't Harold Saxon, hello! I see you've met Ril, isn't she wonderful?" He lays a careful hand on her shoulder. Upon close inspection, Ril didn't seem... quite herself. That was rather worrying... but he's going to keep up the act for now. "I was just out for a walk myself, quite a nice night for it... were you two headed somewhere in particular? Would you mind terribly if I invited myself along, I hadn't any plans but I was feeling rather bored."

He didn't quite know what was worse, Ril and her annoying attitude or the Doctor and his terrible acting. Both were frankly not worth the effort and yet he was a man of conviction and not willing to stop the act this early in. Once he started something, he would finish it, even if it killed him. So with his best smile, he pulled back on the whole Saxon disguise. He knew the Doctor knew who he was by now but he was playing this game with the Eleventh regeneration. Mutual lying was nothing new.

"Hello again, it has been a while. Too long. Funnily enough, I was just talking about you and here you come, coat illuminating the darkness. Me and Ril were just parting company and she has clearly had too much wine," the Master pointed out, a look on his face that showed that wasn't accidental at all. Still, he didn't get his desired results so it wasn't worth getting indignant over. Yet.

Backing away, he gestured towards Ril and her state, just to illustrate how bad it was. And hopefully the ever concerned Doctor would take over and he could back off. Being nice was starting to wound him on the inside.

"We're going to have to cut the night short, I'm afraid," the Master remarked, moving closer to the Doctor and stage whispering with a noted lack of subtly. "She's a bit touchy, be careful what you say. And she's definitely not an address book, this I know. Not that I was even that interested in an address."

Pulling back, he slipped his hands in his pockets and essentially waited for the hero to save the day, remove his latest love and let the Master leave early. He could still find a way to salvage the evening.

"I'm techy when folk try to pry information outta me like I'm an info-probe to be shorted and hacked," Ril shot back. "And I was walking home already, I was. Not inna bleedin straight line, but I was walking it. Voidblasted wine, I don't--" She scowled. "I don't-- I think. I think I don't ap-- apreshuna-- Crack it. I'm...fuzzy and blurry and--"

Nope. Never, ever again. Ril waved, frustrated with everything ever. Her turn was mostly into Six, but the accusation waved straight at the Master.

"And this one!" She switched pitches and tones quickly, cracking out a damned good imitation of 'Harry's' voice, "You've never had any? Ouch! You're missing out," before switching back to her own, "he says, like it's a grand fun time." And then she was half wobbling away with a muttered, "My arse is an information drone...gobsplatting jurie-holed pile of davit hnngh--"

The Doctor watched the Master go, the jocular smile sliding off his face. "Hmmm, clearly. I wonder just how she got that way." It's muttered under his breath, though; chances are neither of the other two hear him.

He shifts his grip slightly, so he's ready to help hold her up if she needs it. Which, by his judgement, she does, but apparently sauced Ril has a very different opinion--and a much stronger vocabulary, for that matter.

"You know, you're very good at that. Impersonations, I mean... you sound quite like him." He follows after her, keeping pace with her wobbly ones. "What was he doing, trying to pry information out of you? You really shouldn't be around him if you can help it, he's not a very nice person." His eyebrow slowly went up as she vented her spleen at the Master's retreating back. "Erm... Ril... just how much did you have to drink, anyway? And where do you think you're going?"

Edited 2013-11-18 04:11 (UTC)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject