It's all AU.

It was a bloody awful day for the Master. Sometime he could tell what was going to the drums and everything that went with it worse...and sometimes he couldn't. It had always been that way. He's woken up barely able to think and in a viscous mood, the rush of noise in his mind telling to lash out.

So, rather than go stalk something, as he would have once upon a time, he kept himself shut away and drugged into a stupor. He sat in a chair the main room of the cottage, gloved hands lax, and staring off into space.

Hating feeling like this, as much as he could muster, underneath the haze he was in.

The Master was gardening out in front of the cottage he'd taken up residence, planting roses. Ripping up the earth, and weeding and pruning was calming and harmless. Jazz was pouring out of open windows, loud enough to drown out the noise in his head a bit.

( Potential spoilers for End of Time, Part 1 and 2 )

Bella did not understand.

She'd woken up in a strange hotel room from one of her usual nightmares (they were usual, by now), and nobody would give her any answers. Not even the cat people, who made her think she was still dreaming. A very vivid dream, an odd one without Edward. She walked through the strange streets, feeling panic swell up in her chest as she could not fight the conviction that this was much worse than a dream. Much more real.

Oh, if only Edward were here, but he'd left. He'd left her.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted the vampire. Unmistakable, with his marble skin and perfect features, the grace of his movements. She wanted to rush to him, yet something held her back. Not all vampires were like her Edward.

Brant was, not to put too fine a point on it, bored. He was also in an atypically crabby mood. He wasn't lashing out or angry, but he wasn't feeling particularly sunny, either.

He stumbled out of the hotel with a cup of coffee, flopped on a bench and generally looking both very sleepy and very cranky.

Also, very young.

"Hey," he said, immediately upon sending one of the two time lords he knew best.

( Spoilers for WoM )

The Master *thought* he'd found a quiet corner of the city to play to trumpet in. He usually hid that away in the TARDIS, but he was a bit restless, and wanted music as well....

He paused and eyed the person watching him.

The Master came to De Final, soon after sun down, the evening after River came back home. In his hat and gloves, which was a sign on his caution and tentative respect for Eric's formidableness, not that Eric would necessarily have the context to put that together.

Exercising god like powers over the weather and playing with the(a) Doctor had vastly improved his mood, and he remained smugly satisfied at the rain that kept drizzling between the buildings.

Still, but he was more thoughtful than anything else. He had questions for Eric.

Jack had taken as much time as he'd let himself with Jason, but there was one more thing he needed to do before heading out. Carefully, cautiously, he re-opened the place in the back of his mind that linked to Brant. Not enough to call out, just enough to be aware of his presence, and for Brant to know he was there. Not enough to let Brant know (hopefully) what was going on inside his head.

Then, he showered again, ate again, drank more water, put on fresh clothes that still didn't involve his coat because he was disheartened every time he felt how big it was on his wasted frame, and went out in search of the Doctor. The TARDIS was a bit of a clue, but he wasn't confident enough to use his key, stopping outside instead to rap a rhythmic knock on the closed doors.

And belatedly hoped that River wasn't around.

The Master was walking along (in gloves and a particularly buttoned up jacket) and caught the Doctor's presence nearby. He turned, eyes flashing with prickly frustration, and started, "I said." Then he paused, re-assessed, and shook his head. "Not to you."

The designers Jason had found for him had done a good job, and by the time Eric opened De Final had taken on a very different look from the abandoned bar he had first walked into. The colors were darker, and much classier, the chairs had become sofas and armchairs, all in sleek angles. Pam would have approved.

Time for the opening, and the local staff that had somehow showed up to be interviewed and hired was ready to work the place. All of it had been too easy, but the tough part would be making it work.

Flyers had been dropped all across New New York and the Old Town both, making no secret that a vampire ran the place, and as soon as he opened locals started showing up to have a drink. The place was quickly busy, and his staff were both alluring and professional. Exactly what he'd wanted.

Yes, Pam would have approved.



OOC: let me know if you want a thread with Eric and any one of your characters at all!

The Master had planted himself in from of a cafe, with a pot of tea. He was watching people go by, and drinking said tea, in his black gloves. He was pretty expressionless and outwardly calm, but then. Most people didn't wear gloves while having tea.

Romana was running down a street in New New York, towards the hotel. And crying. It was a bad combination. She stumbled on the hem of her cloak, and ended up leaning hard against a wall for a second, trying to clear her vision.

Eric was moving to the bar. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, filled with his clothes. There was a very decent basement at the bar.

A man was walking a few paces ahead of him, and something was bugging him about him. Until he narrowed it down. Two heartbeats.

Long strides easily had him catch up with the two-hearted creature. "You're one of these aliens," he stated.

It was really very late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. Not a time a human on a normal sleep schedule would be up. The city was much, much quieter, and the air had dipped into slightly cool, in a spate of actual weather. The perfect temperature for a Time Lord, actually, and the Master was enjoying it.

He looked up from the spot on a park bench and called out to the figure lurking - there really wasn't any other word for it - "I don't bite. Without reason."

The Doctor was in New New York, crouched down in the park nearest the hotel and cupped a beetle into his hand. "Oh, now, you're not from here," he breathed. "You've been extinct since the 23rd century. Blip in the system, hmm?"

It was a very long time before the Valeyard opened his eyes and became aware of two things: he could move and Mel was gone.

He reached out a shaky hand. It didn't feel like the universe was falling apart because of it. He dared to stand up. Either he'd completely lost his mind or, somehow, the universe had stabilized. Either way, now that he'd moved, he didn't think he could force himself to stand still again. He made his way slowly to the doors of the TARDIS, wincing a little as cramped muscles screamed at him.

Outside was . . . well, it looked like New Earth. The Valeyard blinked. That couldn't be right, could it? Then again, who knew what shape the universe had healed into? With the amount of damage he'd done to it, there were bound to be some changes.

"Mel?" he called out. "Mel? Where are you?"

( Spoilers for CoE )

"Who steals a bicycle? And why?" the Master asked, outloud, mostly rhetorically.

The Doctor, with red paper rose pinned to his lapel, was wandering more shops. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for. He'd know it when he saw it.

He looked up and caught sight of Ianto. "Oh, hello, haven't seen you around in a while, Jack'll be thirlled," Grinned broadly. Then paused. "Wait, have we actually met before?"