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best_enemiesTitle: This Is Only A Test
Author: Kuroshokora
Pairing(s): Master/Doctor, Master-Sim/Doctor-Sim
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In which the Master plays Sims 3. Pure crack.
**
"What. Is this."
"It's the Sims 3." the Doctor said helpfully, crossing his legs and balancing a foil tray of Chinese takeaway on his knees "The best of the series I reckon. Sims 4 was a bit rubbish but after that crash in the technological market-- literally crash, actually, nasty business that-- the video game industry was never quite the same."
"Yes, I know what it is." the Master said with a roll of his eyes, impatiently jangling the chains that attached him to his chair until the Doctor handed him a paper plate of noodles "What I want to know is what it's doing here."
He looked down at the humming laptop set at his feet with the Sims 3 menu screen tilted up towards him.
"I thought you could play it. You know, stop you getting bored. Simulate taking over the world in a safe environment." the Doctor beamed, a stray noodle dropping from his mouth into the tray with a plop.
"I wouldn't be bored if you let me out of these damn chains." the Master returned moodily, crushing his fortune cookie in one hand.
The small slip of paper displaying his fortune read 'Pride comes before a fall.'
He tore it into little pieces and scattered it over the Doctor's food when he wasn't paying attention.
"Remember what happened last time?" the Doctor chided, obliviously munching on the pulp of paper and sweet-n-sour sauce.
The Master remembered what had happened last time. He'd informed Margaret Thatcher that not only did she closely resemble the Face of Boe in lipstick, but even he'd been a better Prime Minister than she had. This was after he'd broken in Downing Street by way of blowing his way through the front door and singeing all of her wallpaper with a flamethrower.The Doctor had spent hours bartering for the Master to be released from prison, and the imprint of Margaret Thatcher's palmprint on his face from where she'd slapped him had taken longer to recover from.
"Well, you did insist on taking me to Earth. That's just tempting disaster."
The Doctor rolled his eyes, picking up the Master's empty plate and setting the laptop firmly down across his knees.
"Now, everything's set up. Internet's enabled so you can go online to buy things for the game. Hair, and clothes, and furniture--"
"Whoopee."
"-- but don't try anything. There's firewalls and other technical whatsits."
One sardonic eyebrow raised, the Master looked down at the screen and then back up at his erstwhile enemy who was bustling around collecting the remnants of their meal and looking extraordinarily like a bustling housewife. The Master blinked, and then did his best to disinfect his mind from the mental image of the Doctor in a pink frilly apron.
"Right then. Don't you have planets to save?" he said pointedly, tapping his fingers lightly on the keyboard.
The Doctor blinked, nodded, and walked briskly away. No doubt to do something virtuous. The Master shook his head slightly, looking down at the laptop he'd been given.
For the first few hours, he naturally attempted to hack the security systems. It was almost expected for him to have a good go at it, even aside from the fact that he really did not plan on spending the rest of his life chained up in a back room of the Doctor's TARDIS. If he'd had a decent amount of equipment, or any equipment at all as it happened, it would have been easy. As it happened, he had nothing but the power of his brain. Impressive as that may be, it wasn't much help against the multi-layered system that the Doctor had obviously used some sort of Liuraxian processor to cement into an impossible degree of specific security.
After coming up against the fiftieth 'OH NO YOU DON'T YOU EVIL TIME LORD YOU!' screen which seemed to pop up whenever he tried to go on anything not directly linked to the Sims 3 game, he conceded defeat. Besides, the bizarre flashing neon pink and yellow spirals that accompanied the warning text were beginning to give him headache. He suspected that the Doctor had planned this all along in a clever scheme to incapacitate him and therefore stop him from whining and/or escaping.
So he loaded up the Sims 3 game. He made himself first, carefully attempting to tailor the stupid computer generated image into a passable representation of his current regeneration. Then he made the Doctor for his CG self to play with. He had considered making the Doctor into a lazy unlucky couch potato, but found that after he'd entered in all of the Doctor's real character traits, there wasn't much room for anything else. Well, it wouldn't be any fun if it wasn't realistic.
After buying Master-Sim and Doctor-Sim a house, it soon became apparent that he didn't have all that much money. He would have preferred a bigger house than the one he had eventually settled on. Would his Sim have to work for money? He wasn't having that.
Furtively, he glanced from side to side. The Doctor may have protected all of the computer systems surrounding the game, but he wondered if he had thought of actually doing anything to protect the game itself.
In mere minutes, he'd hacked his Sims all the money they needed, and had moved the two of them to a mansion in the posh region of the city. He'd turned ageing well and truly off, and now was ready to play the game. Watching the camera zoom into the scene of the two figures standing on the porch, he wondered what to do now.
Kill the Doctor-Sim. That seemed like a good idea. But he wasn't quite sure how he would go about ordering the Master-Sim to do so. The two Sims were having a chat at the moment. They were talking about computers, the Master noted. Clicking with a vengeance to argue, insult and mock, it wasn't long until he'd managed to provoke the Doctor-Sim into declaring the Master-Sim a nemesis. Satisfied, the Master was sure that he would now at least be able to punch the Doctor-Sim to death. But no. All that seemed to happen was a dramatic cartoon style punch-up in which the two characters rolled around in a cloud of dust. Disappointed, the Master tried again. But it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, there was never a 'Murder' option.
Irritated, the Master sent the Doctor-Sim to the bathroom and bricked up all of the walls to wait for him to starve to death. He redecorated the house while he waited, and got Master-Sim a job in the criminal career path to further his ambitions to become The Emperor Of Evil (not the title he preferred, but close enough). Apparently, the Master-Sim would need exercise to be a good criminal. The Master bought him a running machine and sent him for a work-out, and then went back to check on the Doctor-Sim's progress. Not dead yet, he mused. In fact, hunger levels were quite high up.
It took three Sim days before the Doctor-Sim finally keeled over, by which time the Master-Sim had already been to work twice, cooked and eaten three meals (and burnt one) and got his Logic skills up to level three. Amused, the Master watched as a Grim Reaper (silly Earth superstition) turned up to collect the purple hued ghost of the dead Doctor-Sim. Master-Sim was currently discussing TV with the Reaper, while the Doctor-Sim-Ghost floated absently around.
Eventually, the Reaper left and took the Doctor-Sim-Ghost with him, and the Master wondered what to do next. It now occurred to him that the Master-Sim was alone in the house, since Sims couldn't regenerate. Hmmm. That might be a bit boring. The Master frowned and sent the Master-Sim to stargaze while he contemplated the problem. He couldn't go back to his last game save to bring the Doctor-Sim back to life, because that would lose all of the logic points that he had been working for, and he had been hoping to get a job promotion soon, and anyway he couldn't be doing with doing that everytime he killed the Doctor.
Looking around the chair that the Doctor had chained him into, he located the PC-Rom disk box lying a little way away and by the clever use of stretching and kicking, he managed to pick it up and pull out the game manual. Surely there was a way around such an eventuality.
There wasn't a section on what to do in order to serial kill a Sim, but he worked out what he had to do, and returned to the main menu after saving his game in order to remake the Doctor. He then merged the Doctor with the TimeLord household, and voila. The Doctor-Sim was reborn, and the Master-Sim could still continue to improve as a person. Perfect.
Well, this opened up a lot more opportunities. While Master-Sim was working hard being a criminal during the day, the Master took pleasure in exploring all of the different ways to kill off the Doctor-Sim. He found out that getting the Doctor-Sim to run for a long time on the Master-Sim's running machine and then making him take a dip in the pool caused him to drown and interestingly, resulted in a blue ghost. Building a wall around the pool had the same effect.
Hours later, the Master-Sim had reached level five of the career track and was well on the way to having full logic, athletic and handiness skill, and the Master thought that he'd probably exhausted the ways of killing off the Doctor-Sim. It occurred to him, however, that he'd only been focusing on the Doctor's tenth regeneration. He'd been completely neglecting all of those other forms that the Doctor had taken.
Feeling quite smug, the Master went on to electrocute the pretty blonde Doctor-Sim and set fire to the snarky curly haired Doctor-Sim both at the same time. He was beginning to quite like this game. Despite the bonus of being able to kill the Doctor over and over again, he also enjoyed playing himself. When he couldn't actually move out of the chair he'd been chained to, let alone out of the TARDIS, it was oddly liberating to be able to explore a virtual landscape in virtual form. His Master-Sim was actually not too far off his own personality, in a melodramatically caricatured way. He liked the way that Master-Sim took Fiendish Delight from the misfortune of the other Sims. He also found it highly amusing that the Master-Sim had Evil Snacks and Evil Showers. He intended to use 'evil' as a pre-fix as often as possible in future. Evil jelly baby, anybody?
After approximately six hours, the fun was beginning to wear off. After successfully achieving Master-Sim's life goal and killing the 27th version of the Doctor, he realised that he was bored. Unfortunately, it just wasn't quite the same to watch the Doctor-Sim being killed as it was to actually kill the Doctor. There wasn't a lot of variety past drowning, starving, electrocuting and setting the Doctor-Sim on fire, and whereas he'd earlier been annoyed that the Sim wouldn't simply regenerate into a new form for him to kill, now he was more irritated that it was easy enough to force the Doctor-Sim into doing just that by creating a new Sim. Rendering the Doctor immortal, like a less-fun virtual version of the Jack-freak. It was, frankly, tedious. So, he waited for the current Doctor-Sim to snuff it, and then created his final TenthDoctor-Sim, sending him to play chess by himself.
The Master-Sim returned from work, making an interested beeline for his new housemate. The Master-Sim didn't seem to realise that his home had been regularly invaded by new (but not exactly varied) guests for the past Sim month. He wanted to chat to the Doctor-Sim.
The Master thinks The Doctor is being friendly.
The Master initiated a few social interactions, throwing in a few cruel remarks for the Master-Sim's benefit (and his own, as it happened) and then leaving them to it while he followed Grady Elfman around with the camera. Grady Elfman was the Master-Sim's maid who cleaned up the mansion. The Master-Sim was hardly going to do his own housework. He'd considered creating a Lucy-Sim, but reasoned that she might spontaneously kill him, and he didn't want to lose all the hard work he'd been putting into Master-Sim.
Grady Elfman threw away the remains of the Master-Sim's pizza, then left. The Master panned the camera back around to check on his Sims with a few clicks of his laptop touchpad. They were still talking.
The Doctor thinks The Master is being flirty. commented the little pop-up at the top of the screen.
What?? What had he done? The Master stared accusingly at his simulated self as the Master-Sim launched into a tirade about his evil plans. He blinked once, and then again, as the Master-Sim paused to compliment the Doctor-Sim on his genius, and the Doctor-Sim promptly complimented the Master-Sim's appearance. He was tempted to force them to argue and fight again, just to stop them from teetering on a dangerous level of chemistry.
"Traitor." he muttered at the Master-Sim, who was now boasting about some star he had discovered "Bloody show-off."
But then, he couldn't quite do that. He had wanted to try something new with the game, after all. Feeling slightly guilty for no good reason, he hovered the cursor over the Doctor-Sim and clicked, ordering the Master-Sim to try a pick-up line on the Doctor-Sim, who to his surprise responded favourably, shuffling shyly like a confused computer generated puppy. He was doing exactly what the Master-Sim wanted, which gave the corporeal Master a certain ego-boost. The Master supposed it was due to his choosing 'Over-emotional' as a character trait; the Doctor-Sim was always crying about something, which gave the Master-Sim plenty of opportunities to laugh evilly.
Curious despite himself, he made his Sim counterpart give the Doctor-Sim an 'amorous hug' and smirked slightly as the slightly skinnier figure all-but collapsed into the Master-Sim's arms. Apparently, the Master-Sim was now established as a Romantic Interest for the Doctor-Sim, shown by a little heart in the Relationships bar. According to the Wishes of the Doctor-Sim, he wanted to kiss the Master-Sim.
Suddenly feeling reckless, he clicked back to make Master-Sim the active Sim (like he was letting the Doctor-Sim make the first move...). True enough, there was now a lot more options for Romantic actions and, with a thrill of excitement, the Master selected 'Kiss'.
Interesting. The happy music playing showed the Master that this had fulfilled Wishes for both of his Sims. Master-Sim's mood had shot up to Elated and a positive Moodlet claimed his happiness about the first kiss with somebody new. The Master huffed, half amused, and made the Master-Sim do it again. Then he made them flirt some more, just to get the relationship level up. The Master-Sim had once had a brief affair with a blonde Sim woman he'd met in the park, so he knew how the logistics worked in the beginning, although the fling had died down when he'd forgotten to call her.
It was time for the Master-Sim to go to work. The Master briefly considered making him quit his job in order to have more time with the Doctor-Sim, but it had taken him so long to trek up the career path that he didn't feel like throwing it away. So he made the Doctor-Sim do a bit of gardening and cooking like a good little housewife, impatiently setting the time-frame to fast-fast forward and drumming his fingers on the screen.
Then, when the Master-Sim eventually arrived back and had a bit of the Mac and Cheese that the Doctor-Sim had made earlier, the Master got back down to business. It wasn't that he had any sort of thing for the Doctor, not unless 'thing' meant 'desire to maim and torture and destroy in a completely non-kinky way'. But this wasn't the Doctor. And that wasn't the Master. So it was fine, or so he told himself as he watched the Master-Sim grab the Doctor-Sim and start making out with him.
It was completely an accident, the first time he made them have sex. Well, why didn't they call it 'Shag' instead of 'Woo-Hoo'? He'd only clicked on it to see what it was. It was quite disappointing, too. It wasn't as though he was partial to pixel porn, but he would have at least expected something more graphic than the top of a bed and a few scattered rose petals. After all, the game had got warnings on the back for sex and violence, and it had neither so far. Disappointing, is all.
It suddenly flagged up on the Doctor-Sim's Wishes that he wanted the Master-Sim to propose to him, and the Master realised with a jolt how far this had gone.
"No chance." the Master said aloud, suddenly furious.
What the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be destroying worlds, ruling the universe, a legend and a cautionary tale for generations. Not tied up in the back room of his worst enemy's TARDIS. Certainly not concentrating all his effort on living his life through a stupid game. Definitely not fulfilling some ridiculous kind of (sexual) rivalry by making himself have sex with said worst enemy. What was he doing?
"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked, peering over the Master's shoulder at the image on the laptop showing the Doctor-Sim and the Master-Sim snogging on the couch.
The Master jumped so violently that the laptop fell off his knee and hit the ground with a noisy thud-crunch. That didn't help, since the picture of the Sims in a clinch was now frozen in place. The Master swallowed. Well, he didn't have to worry. He was a spontaneous genius. His amazing brain would get him out of this problem.
"This isn't what it looks like." he said hotly.
.... well, that failed miserably. He cursed himself inside his head as the Doctor picked up the laptop looking between him and the screen and back again, eyebrows progressing steadily towards his hairline. The Master glared, tilting his head back and attempting to stare the Doctor to death. The Doctor was never going to let him forget this. He closed his eyes, determined not to see the Doctor's smug face.
He was, therefore, utterly shocked to find the Doctor plonk himself down on his now-vacant lap. The Master's eyes flew open just in time to have his lips invaded by the Doctor's. It was this deep state of shock that made him sit perfectly still, even opening his mouth to let the Doctor snog him fiercely. He might even have moved his tongue around the Doctor's mouth a bit. Because he was taken by surprise, that was all.
In fact, it was due to this state of shock that had somehow caused his hands to gravitate to the Doctor's thighs, running his fingertips over the pinstripes. That was also why he moaned and pressed closer to the Doctor when the other Time Lord licked his teeth. Obviously.
He didn't really have an excuse for his erection. But he was sure he could think of something when the Doctor stopped distracting him with his mouth. Anyway, either that was a sonic screwdriver pressed against his leg, or the Doctor was equally just as happy about the situation.
Panting, the Doctor pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his mop of hair flopping over his forehead. And a stupid soppy grin on his face. The Master did his best to scowl evilly and undo the Doctor's trousers at the same time.
"Do you want to..." the Doctor started with a shy sort of smile, his eyes half closing.
Bastard. The Master was sure he'd been planning this all along. But he couldn't quite make himself care.
"I want to Woo-Hoo." he said quickly. "Right here and now. It'll increase my mood and improve our relationship substantially."
The Doctor grinned.
"I like the sound of that."
Author: Kuroshokora
Pairing(s): Master/Doctor, Master-Sim/Doctor-Sim
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In which the Master plays Sims 3. Pure crack.
**
"What. Is this."
"It's the Sims 3." the Doctor said helpfully, crossing his legs and balancing a foil tray of Chinese takeaway on his knees "The best of the series I reckon. Sims 4 was a bit rubbish but after that crash in the technological market-- literally crash, actually, nasty business that-- the video game industry was never quite the same."
"Yes, I know what it is." the Master said with a roll of his eyes, impatiently jangling the chains that attached him to his chair until the Doctor handed him a paper plate of noodles "What I want to know is what it's doing here."
He looked down at the humming laptop set at his feet with the Sims 3 menu screen tilted up towards him.
"I thought you could play it. You know, stop you getting bored. Simulate taking over the world in a safe environment." the Doctor beamed, a stray noodle dropping from his mouth into the tray with a plop.
"I wouldn't be bored if you let me out of these damn chains." the Master returned moodily, crushing his fortune cookie in one hand.
The small slip of paper displaying his fortune read 'Pride comes before a fall.'
He tore it into little pieces and scattered it over the Doctor's food when he wasn't paying attention.
"Remember what happened last time?" the Doctor chided, obliviously munching on the pulp of paper and sweet-n-sour sauce.
The Master remembered what had happened last time. He'd informed Margaret Thatcher that not only did she closely resemble the Face of Boe in lipstick, but even he'd been a better Prime Minister than she had. This was after he'd broken in Downing Street by way of blowing his way through the front door and singeing all of her wallpaper with a flamethrower.The Doctor had spent hours bartering for the Master to be released from prison, and the imprint of Margaret Thatcher's palmprint on his face from where she'd slapped him had taken longer to recover from.
"Well, you did insist on taking me to Earth. That's just tempting disaster."
The Doctor rolled his eyes, picking up the Master's empty plate and setting the laptop firmly down across his knees.
"Now, everything's set up. Internet's enabled so you can go online to buy things for the game. Hair, and clothes, and furniture--"
"Whoopee."
"-- but don't try anything. There's firewalls and other technical whatsits."
One sardonic eyebrow raised, the Master looked down at the screen and then back up at his erstwhile enemy who was bustling around collecting the remnants of their meal and looking extraordinarily like a bustling housewife. The Master blinked, and then did his best to disinfect his mind from the mental image of the Doctor in a pink frilly apron.
"Right then. Don't you have planets to save?" he said pointedly, tapping his fingers lightly on the keyboard.
The Doctor blinked, nodded, and walked briskly away. No doubt to do something virtuous. The Master shook his head slightly, looking down at the laptop he'd been given.
For the first few hours, he naturally attempted to hack the security systems. It was almost expected for him to have a good go at it, even aside from the fact that he really did not plan on spending the rest of his life chained up in a back room of the Doctor's TARDIS. If he'd had a decent amount of equipment, or any equipment at all as it happened, it would have been easy. As it happened, he had nothing but the power of his brain. Impressive as that may be, it wasn't much help against the multi-layered system that the Doctor had obviously used some sort of Liuraxian processor to cement into an impossible degree of specific security.
After coming up against the fiftieth 'OH NO YOU DON'T YOU EVIL TIME LORD YOU!' screen which seemed to pop up whenever he tried to go on anything not directly linked to the Sims 3 game, he conceded defeat. Besides, the bizarre flashing neon pink and yellow spirals that accompanied the warning text were beginning to give him headache. He suspected that the Doctor had planned this all along in a clever scheme to incapacitate him and therefore stop him from whining and/or escaping.
So he loaded up the Sims 3 game. He made himself first, carefully attempting to tailor the stupid computer generated image into a passable representation of his current regeneration. Then he made the Doctor for his CG self to play with. He had considered making the Doctor into a lazy unlucky couch potato, but found that after he'd entered in all of the Doctor's real character traits, there wasn't much room for anything else. Well, it wouldn't be any fun if it wasn't realistic.
After buying Master-Sim and Doctor-Sim a house, it soon became apparent that he didn't have all that much money. He would have preferred a bigger house than the one he had eventually settled on. Would his Sim have to work for money? He wasn't having that.
Furtively, he glanced from side to side. The Doctor may have protected all of the computer systems surrounding the game, but he wondered if he had thought of actually doing anything to protect the game itself.
In mere minutes, he'd hacked his Sims all the money they needed, and had moved the two of them to a mansion in the posh region of the city. He'd turned ageing well and truly off, and now was ready to play the game. Watching the camera zoom into the scene of the two figures standing on the porch, he wondered what to do now.
Kill the Doctor-Sim. That seemed like a good idea. But he wasn't quite sure how he would go about ordering the Master-Sim to do so. The two Sims were having a chat at the moment. They were talking about computers, the Master noted. Clicking with a vengeance to argue, insult and mock, it wasn't long until he'd managed to provoke the Doctor-Sim into declaring the Master-Sim a nemesis. Satisfied, the Master was sure that he would now at least be able to punch the Doctor-Sim to death. But no. All that seemed to happen was a dramatic cartoon style punch-up in which the two characters rolled around in a cloud of dust. Disappointed, the Master tried again. But it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, there was never a 'Murder' option.
Irritated, the Master sent the Doctor-Sim to the bathroom and bricked up all of the walls to wait for him to starve to death. He redecorated the house while he waited, and got Master-Sim a job in the criminal career path to further his ambitions to become The Emperor Of Evil (not the title he preferred, but close enough). Apparently, the Master-Sim would need exercise to be a good criminal. The Master bought him a running machine and sent him for a work-out, and then went back to check on the Doctor-Sim's progress. Not dead yet, he mused. In fact, hunger levels were quite high up.
It took three Sim days before the Doctor-Sim finally keeled over, by which time the Master-Sim had already been to work twice, cooked and eaten three meals (and burnt one) and got his Logic skills up to level three. Amused, the Master watched as a Grim Reaper (silly Earth superstition) turned up to collect the purple hued ghost of the dead Doctor-Sim. Master-Sim was currently discussing TV with the Reaper, while the Doctor-Sim-Ghost floated absently around.
Eventually, the Reaper left and took the Doctor-Sim-Ghost with him, and the Master wondered what to do next. It now occurred to him that the Master-Sim was alone in the house, since Sims couldn't regenerate. Hmmm. That might be a bit boring. The Master frowned and sent the Master-Sim to stargaze while he contemplated the problem. He couldn't go back to his last game save to bring the Doctor-Sim back to life, because that would lose all of the logic points that he had been working for, and he had been hoping to get a job promotion soon, and anyway he couldn't be doing with doing that everytime he killed the Doctor.
Looking around the chair that the Doctor had chained him into, he located the PC-Rom disk box lying a little way away and by the clever use of stretching and kicking, he managed to pick it up and pull out the game manual. Surely there was a way around such an eventuality.
There wasn't a section on what to do in order to serial kill a Sim, but he worked out what he had to do, and returned to the main menu after saving his game in order to remake the Doctor. He then merged the Doctor with the TimeLord household, and voila. The Doctor-Sim was reborn, and the Master-Sim could still continue to improve as a person. Perfect.
Well, this opened up a lot more opportunities. While Master-Sim was working hard being a criminal during the day, the Master took pleasure in exploring all of the different ways to kill off the Doctor-Sim. He found out that getting the Doctor-Sim to run for a long time on the Master-Sim's running machine and then making him take a dip in the pool caused him to drown and interestingly, resulted in a blue ghost. Building a wall around the pool had the same effect.
Hours later, the Master-Sim had reached level five of the career track and was well on the way to having full logic, athletic and handiness skill, and the Master thought that he'd probably exhausted the ways of killing off the Doctor-Sim. It occurred to him, however, that he'd only been focusing on the Doctor's tenth regeneration. He'd been completely neglecting all of those other forms that the Doctor had taken.
Feeling quite smug, the Master went on to electrocute the pretty blonde Doctor-Sim and set fire to the snarky curly haired Doctor-Sim both at the same time. He was beginning to quite like this game. Despite the bonus of being able to kill the Doctor over and over again, he also enjoyed playing himself. When he couldn't actually move out of the chair he'd been chained to, let alone out of the TARDIS, it was oddly liberating to be able to explore a virtual landscape in virtual form. His Master-Sim was actually not too far off his own personality, in a melodramatically caricatured way. He liked the way that Master-Sim took Fiendish Delight from the misfortune of the other Sims. He also found it highly amusing that the Master-Sim had Evil Snacks and Evil Showers. He intended to use 'evil' as a pre-fix as often as possible in future. Evil jelly baby, anybody?
After approximately six hours, the fun was beginning to wear off. After successfully achieving Master-Sim's life goal and killing the 27th version of the Doctor, he realised that he was bored. Unfortunately, it just wasn't quite the same to watch the Doctor-Sim being killed as it was to actually kill the Doctor. There wasn't a lot of variety past drowning, starving, electrocuting and setting the Doctor-Sim on fire, and whereas he'd earlier been annoyed that the Sim wouldn't simply regenerate into a new form for him to kill, now he was more irritated that it was easy enough to force the Doctor-Sim into doing just that by creating a new Sim. Rendering the Doctor immortal, like a less-fun virtual version of the Jack-freak. It was, frankly, tedious. So, he waited for the current Doctor-Sim to snuff it, and then created his final TenthDoctor-Sim, sending him to play chess by himself.
The Master-Sim returned from work, making an interested beeline for his new housemate. The Master-Sim didn't seem to realise that his home had been regularly invaded by new (but not exactly varied) guests for the past Sim month. He wanted to chat to the Doctor-Sim.
The Master thinks The Doctor is being friendly.
The Master initiated a few social interactions, throwing in a few cruel remarks for the Master-Sim's benefit (and his own, as it happened) and then leaving them to it while he followed Grady Elfman around with the camera. Grady Elfman was the Master-Sim's maid who cleaned up the mansion. The Master-Sim was hardly going to do his own housework. He'd considered creating a Lucy-Sim, but reasoned that she might spontaneously kill him, and he didn't want to lose all the hard work he'd been putting into Master-Sim.
Grady Elfman threw away the remains of the Master-Sim's pizza, then left. The Master panned the camera back around to check on his Sims with a few clicks of his laptop touchpad. They were still talking.
The Doctor thinks The Master is being flirty. commented the little pop-up at the top of the screen.
What?? What had he done? The Master stared accusingly at his simulated self as the Master-Sim launched into a tirade about his evil plans. He blinked once, and then again, as the Master-Sim paused to compliment the Doctor-Sim on his genius, and the Doctor-Sim promptly complimented the Master-Sim's appearance. He was tempted to force them to argue and fight again, just to stop them from teetering on a dangerous level of chemistry.
"Traitor." he muttered at the Master-Sim, who was now boasting about some star he had discovered "Bloody show-off."
But then, he couldn't quite do that. He had wanted to try something new with the game, after all. Feeling slightly guilty for no good reason, he hovered the cursor over the Doctor-Sim and clicked, ordering the Master-Sim to try a pick-up line on the Doctor-Sim, who to his surprise responded favourably, shuffling shyly like a confused computer generated puppy. He was doing exactly what the Master-Sim wanted, which gave the corporeal Master a certain ego-boost. The Master supposed it was due to his choosing 'Over-emotional' as a character trait; the Doctor-Sim was always crying about something, which gave the Master-Sim plenty of opportunities to laugh evilly.
Curious despite himself, he made his Sim counterpart give the Doctor-Sim an 'amorous hug' and smirked slightly as the slightly skinnier figure all-but collapsed into the Master-Sim's arms. Apparently, the Master-Sim was now established as a Romantic Interest for the Doctor-Sim, shown by a little heart in the Relationships bar. According to the Wishes of the Doctor-Sim, he wanted to kiss the Master-Sim.
Suddenly feeling reckless, he clicked back to make Master-Sim the active Sim (like he was letting the Doctor-Sim make the first move...). True enough, there was now a lot more options for Romantic actions and, with a thrill of excitement, the Master selected 'Kiss'.
Interesting. The happy music playing showed the Master that this had fulfilled Wishes for both of his Sims. Master-Sim's mood had shot up to Elated and a positive Moodlet claimed his happiness about the first kiss with somebody new. The Master huffed, half amused, and made the Master-Sim do it again. Then he made them flirt some more, just to get the relationship level up. The Master-Sim had once had a brief affair with a blonde Sim woman he'd met in the park, so he knew how the logistics worked in the beginning, although the fling had died down when he'd forgotten to call her.
It was time for the Master-Sim to go to work. The Master briefly considered making him quit his job in order to have more time with the Doctor-Sim, but it had taken him so long to trek up the career path that he didn't feel like throwing it away. So he made the Doctor-Sim do a bit of gardening and cooking like a good little housewife, impatiently setting the time-frame to fast-fast forward and drumming his fingers on the screen.
Then, when the Master-Sim eventually arrived back and had a bit of the Mac and Cheese that the Doctor-Sim had made earlier, the Master got back down to business. It wasn't that he had any sort of thing for the Doctor, not unless 'thing' meant 'desire to maim and torture and destroy in a completely non-kinky way'. But this wasn't the Doctor. And that wasn't the Master. So it was fine, or so he told himself as he watched the Master-Sim grab the Doctor-Sim and start making out with him.
It was completely an accident, the first time he made them have sex. Well, why didn't they call it 'Shag' instead of 'Woo-Hoo'? He'd only clicked on it to see what it was. It was quite disappointing, too. It wasn't as though he was partial to pixel porn, but he would have at least expected something more graphic than the top of a bed and a few scattered rose petals. After all, the game had got warnings on the back for sex and violence, and it had neither so far. Disappointing, is all.
It suddenly flagged up on the Doctor-Sim's Wishes that he wanted the Master-Sim to propose to him, and the Master realised with a jolt how far this had gone.
"No chance." the Master said aloud, suddenly furious.
What the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be destroying worlds, ruling the universe, a legend and a cautionary tale for generations. Not tied up in the back room of his worst enemy's TARDIS. Certainly not concentrating all his effort on living his life through a stupid game. Definitely not fulfilling some ridiculous kind of (sexual) rivalry by making himself have sex with said worst enemy. What was he doing?
"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked, peering over the Master's shoulder at the image on the laptop showing the Doctor-Sim and the Master-Sim snogging on the couch.
The Master jumped so violently that the laptop fell off his knee and hit the ground with a noisy thud-crunch. That didn't help, since the picture of the Sims in a clinch was now frozen in place. The Master swallowed. Well, he didn't have to worry. He was a spontaneous genius. His amazing brain would get him out of this problem.
"This isn't what it looks like." he said hotly.
.... well, that failed miserably. He cursed himself inside his head as the Doctor picked up the laptop looking between him and the screen and back again, eyebrows progressing steadily towards his hairline. The Master glared, tilting his head back and attempting to stare the Doctor to death. The Doctor was never going to let him forget this. He closed his eyes, determined not to see the Doctor's smug face.
He was, therefore, utterly shocked to find the Doctor plonk himself down on his now-vacant lap. The Master's eyes flew open just in time to have his lips invaded by the Doctor's. It was this deep state of shock that made him sit perfectly still, even opening his mouth to let the Doctor snog him fiercely. He might even have moved his tongue around the Doctor's mouth a bit. Because he was taken by surprise, that was all.
In fact, it was due to this state of shock that had somehow caused his hands to gravitate to the Doctor's thighs, running his fingertips over the pinstripes. That was also why he moaned and pressed closer to the Doctor when the other Time Lord licked his teeth. Obviously.
He didn't really have an excuse for his erection. But he was sure he could think of something when the Doctor stopped distracting him with his mouth. Anyway, either that was a sonic screwdriver pressed against his leg, or the Doctor was equally just as happy about the situation.
Panting, the Doctor pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his mop of hair flopping over his forehead. And a stupid soppy grin on his face. The Master did his best to scowl evilly and undo the Doctor's trousers at the same time.
"Do you want to..." the Doctor started with a shy sort of smile, his eyes half closing.
Bastard. The Master was sure he'd been planning this all along. But he couldn't quite make himself care.
"I want to Woo-Hoo." he said quickly. "Right here and now. It'll increase my mood and improve our relationship substantially."
The Doctor grinned.
"I like the sound of that."
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