paixaorpg | Echoes and Worries [Complete]

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Echoes and Worries [Complete]

Character(s): The Master and Yorda
Content: After speaking on the message board, the Master and Yorda decide to meet up.
Setting: Jogo da Crianca
Time: Late night, while Mao is speaking with Geoffrey
Warnings: The Master. :|b

She was tired. She usually wasn't up this late, for one, but her meeting with Geoffrey combined with her worry over Mao had translated into an inability to sleep. Still, Yorda plodded determinedly towards the park, carrying a basket of food for the Master - surely, he must be hungry. He always was.

It took the princess a little longer than it normally would to reach the park. Once there, she simply sat on a bench and waited, half-asleep. She knew the Master could find her easily, especially considering the way she glowed, so she didn't worry about him getting lost at night.

She just hoped Mao was alright.

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The Master turned the corner to find the light of Yorda's hair glowing in the moonlight. He could tell she was about to pass into slumber, so it was all he could do to prevent his evil impulses and scare her out of her wits. Still, it wasn't the promise of meeting his "companion" (namedly so as he had not fully intended on carrying out the same type of relationship The Doctor shared with his companions) that drove him out to the park in the middle of the night. It was the smell that had been driving him mad from the moment she stepped into his range of sense. The hunger in him was forcing him into such impetus, he could not even tell what was in the basket. All he could think about was devouring mass and never stopping.

"Got something for me then?" he asked quietly, sure he wouldn't frighten. "I am so hungry."

Yorda blinked sleepily at the Master, rubbing her eyes before offering him the basket. "I brought you meat," she replied, smiling a little. The Master always seemed to be starving, something that worried the princess deeply - no matter how much food she brought him (always as much as she could carry), he was still so hungry afterward. Yorda simply did what she could to help, but her meager healing powers could only cure exhaustion and injury, not hunger. She was sorry she couldn't carry more food to him.

The Master immediately snatched the basket from Yorda's weak grip and tore the top away to reveal a neat pile of perfectly cooked meats. The Master paid no attention to manners or method and tore into a few pieces at once, shoving large bites into his sack dinner. Although Yorda was sleepy, The Master could tell she was concerned with his state of being. It was enough to see the way his clothes were hanging off of his body like loose curtains.

"Thanks," he said in an almost unfathomable gesture of kindness.

Yorda merely sat patiently, well-used to the Master's lack of table manners by now (not that Yorda had been much better until Urd had taught her otherwise). She wished she had brought more, resolving to bring two baskets next time she saw him. Why was he always so hungry? What was wrong? She wanted to ask, but had learned, not terribly long ago, that some questions were best left unasked. Even so, she wanted very much to help the strange man who leapt through the air and complained about drums none but him could hear.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected expression of gratitude from the Master, and Yorda beamed at him, her smile practically lighting up her face. "You are welcome."

The Master continued to chew on the last morsels available to him in the basket as he looked over Yorda's face. He could sense her hesitance to share things with him. He couldn't blame her if she could really detect his true character. He licked at the corner of his mouth for any remains on his stubble-covered mouth and then asked, "Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

Yorda looked over at him, worry written on her face. "Why do you need to eat so much?" she asked when prompted, hesitant, her voice soft. "What has happened to you?" Even Yorda, naive and innocent as she was, could see the insanity in the Master's eyes and in the way he moved. The girl watched him chew the last of the food and hoped it would be enough for now.

The Master seemed to stop chewing at once when Yorda asked the innocent yet curious question. The naivety in Yorda's voice seemed to touch him in the same way his dear Lucy Saxon once moved his soul. Now, a much more broken man than he was as the Prime Minister and supreme ruler of Earth, The Master was less in touch with his sensitive side. He never was the most affectionate type, but his physical vulnerability gave way to emotional vulnerability from time to time.

He pulled at his short blonde locks so he could display their miniscule length and paltry strength. "See this? Wasn't always this way. I was younger, healthier once. Something went wrong with me and the old lady. Now, it's dinnertime every waking moment or I go under."

Yorda watched the Master, and listened. She gently laid her hand over the Master's, willing her healing abilities to wash over him; hopefully, they would help a little. She wanted to ask him who the "old lady" was, but something in his tone held her back, and so she didn't. But the "going under" comment definitely needed clarifying; Yorda still wasn't familiar with the subtleties and nuances of a conversation. "Where will you go if you do not eat?"

She worried for him. If he had to go somewhere, he shouldn't have to go alone.

Where will you go if you do not eat? The question floated around in his tremendous mind before coming back to the reality of Yorda's lack of street smarts. He felt distracted by something though. When he had finally noticed Yorda's hand and the subsequent effect, he felt strange. It was though he were a deep well in an empty field marred with drought. The sensation of her touch was like a quiet sprinkle of rain coming across the landscape: enough to give the briefest flash of relief before giving way to the eternal thirst. A few drops hit the bottom of the well in his lifeforce and it nearly brought tears to his eyes. The emptiness settled within him again, and he went back to the conversation.

"I'll pass on. Maybe I regenerate, maybe I finally end, I don't know. Why do you care?"

For her part, Yorda merely grasped the Master's hand quietly, watching the subtle change coming over his face for what seemed like the briefest of moments. She wished she could do more, but although her healing powers didn't even so much as drain her energy, they were not enough to handle what should be mortal injuries. "I care about you," she replied, not yet withdrawing her hand, willing the cool flow of energy to sweep over the Master once again - at least she might be able to provide a little relief. "I do not want you hurt."

There had to be something she could do to help him.

The Master continued his look of confused hurt at Yorda, gracious and angelic in her actions and appearance. Everything about her was gentle and it was exhaustive for The Master, one who could forever sustain himself on others' pain and cynicism and grief. Yorda was one of the few he could ever imagine in the entire universe being so selfless on a whim. She was doing this for The Master, and although he was used to servants and submissive wives, he wasn't used to someone willing to help on a first impression with no expectation of anything in return.

"Why?" he had to ask.

Why? What an odd question. Yorda blinked confusedly at the Master, seeing the pain and exhaustion on his face, and shifted a little closer, tilting her head. The Master had needed someone from the beginning, and even Yorda could see the constant suffering he endured. "You are in pain," she finally answered, "and I wish to help. I will not leave you alone." Why should she not aid someone in distress, especially when it was someone she deeply cared for?

Yorda remembered the time Ico had come to the city, weary and heartsore and on the verge of tears. She remembered holding him until the tears had gone; perhaps that same course of action would help now. Gently, she wrapped her arms around the Master, hugging him close.

It was yet another thing The Master had not experienced for too long: contact. It was more than conversation now. The wispy arms that had closed around him were so delicate, he could not fight against them if he wanted. The tranquility of her caring touch was damaging his composure. He could feel himself degenerating back into someone else. He felt like he could brush his fingers through his own hair again or run through a distant field without using his life force and losing his breath. He moved his shaky hands around Yorda's frail frame and brought her closer.

Once more a child for what could be the last time, The Master embraced Yorda.

There were many things in the world Yorda did not understand, and the Master was very much among them. For all that he frightened her sometimes, with his temper and the general feeling of wrongness about him, the princess could not help but feel as though he needed someone, anyone. He seemed very much alone in the world and the absolute last thing Yorda would do was leave him without someone to turn to.

And when she felt the Master return her embrace, her only response was to move closer, stroking his hair as a mother might do with a child.

It was odd for The Master to be receiving so much affection from a place of genuine right. Whenever he was given pity at the hands of The Doctor, it crushed his sense of resolve and self-determination. It was like being pitied by a winner when you had lost a great battle. Something in Yorda's touch washed over him like a warm breeze. At once, he had felt something he had not given thought to in so long. His eyelids sank and he felt a comfort in the darkness. He wasn't listening to drums or the world around him. He felt like he could only hear the heartbeats between him and Yorda. Though his was frenzied, the calm and gentle beats within Yorda's chest seemed to rock his consciousness into a comforting silence.

For the first time in recent memory, The Master slept peacefully.

Yorda didn't know what the Master had gone through; he hadn't told her, and something about the way the Doctor had reacted to her asking about the Time War made her shy away from asking. But she knew he needed someone, as she had needed someone on the island, and that was enough. Besides, she liked him in spite of his moods and knew he could be charming, if frightening, at times. When the other relaxed, she moved with him, her own exhaustion causing her to slip quickly into sleep, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

It was odd, to sleep next to someone who didn't have horns.

After a short time of enjoying the first restful sleep in the longest time, The Master was nearly frightened out of his wits when the drums came back to the forefront of his thoughts. At once, the pounding in his brain set his eyes aflame when he stood where he was cradled. He breathed heavily and felt his hearts racing. He turned to see Yorda still resting easily where she was, undisturbed by his sudden awakening.

He was so shocked about the series of events that he had no other reaction but to run. He threw his hood over his head quickly, obscuring his eyes, and took off in a random direction. His feet hit the road one after the other so quickly, his steps seemed blur to any of the onlookers.

The princess, in the meantime, merely curled up on the bench, unaware that the Master had left her. She slept peacefully, having pleasant, gentle dreams of her island where she watched the birds, fluttering and frolicking. She'd loved them so; they had been her only companions when she had been imprisoned in her cage. Before, shed liked to watch the silvery fish that darted around in the waters running through her home (or what had passed for a home before Paixao, at least).

Her soft dreams morphed into a nightmare where darkness swallowed her up and even her glow became indistinguishable from the nothingness. The screams of the children her mother had killed echoed in her ears, and the living darkness clawed at Yorda, leaving her with no breath even to scream. The princess gasped, her eyes flying open in a panic. When she sat up, rubbing sleepily at her eyes as the dream faded from her memory, she realized the Master was gone.

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Echoes and Worries [Complete]

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