Immediately, the Master briefly glanced towards his left hand. The girl unnerved him as much as she did interest him. His left hand was… a gossip? As much as the Master knew, his left hand spoke just as much as his right did: None at all. Still, he only watched as the dark-haired teenager finally took a seat. The Master focused his gaze on her hand, watching as pale fingers brushed one of her pawns.
And the game was on. It was normal chess, of course. The Master was bored by that, he only played it when there was no other choice. It started out simply enough—but when the Master exchanged two of his pieces, claiming they were long-last twins, River responded in kind. When she decreed several of the squares to be a wormhole, the Master only grinned in respond. This was his sort of match: Mad, frantic, and incredibly interesting; an equal exercise in skill, wit, and improvisation.
This was the state Simon found them in, and the Master glared up when the two were interrupted. The foodstock for his army was running dangerously low. “There isn’t anything else to do at this godforsaken place. Unless you like the spa.” It was visible in the distance, mostly blocked by a mass of trees.