"I thought you might be lost." is one of the most delightfully romantic things Jon ever says to Martin.
It's so devoid of blame, of derision. A truly neutral statement, soft, no touch of sarcasm, no hint of cruelty. A gentle hand reached out to pull him from the depths of the lonely.
Such an unusual phrase for Jon, especially at that time. There's no definitives, it's entirely open to correction, open to being wrong. 'I thought' not I knew. It comes from Jon's perspective, he holds himself out to rejection, something that's hard to do at the best of times.
'you might be lost', not you were, not you are. He respects that this may well have been a conscious choice, that Martin really could have chosen to abandon him, preferring the lonely to the lack of certainty in their relationship. But it retains the softness and love, the worry and care. He was worried that Martin might not be able to find his way back, but not willing to drag him out of a place he might have chosen to be.
And that's not even mentioning the softness with which he says it. In an intense moment of great urgency and importance he's able to drop his fear, stress, and anger, in an attempt to reach the man he loves.
It's such an elegant moment of love; in a second Jon is willing to let go of the gravity of the situation and put all of his being into connecting with Martin, and when it comes down to it, it works.
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Out of every single relationship in the Whoniverse, whatever the Doctor and the Master have going on just hits different. Like a rock. I’m sure everyone feels this way about their fave Doctor ship, but my experience is that once you go Thoschei, you cannot go back. Given the narrative symmetry, character foiling, interwoven parallels, tragically dramatic irony, frustratingly unspeakable ambiguous romance that defies traditional ship canonization in the true chaotic spirit of Doctor Who, and a unique backstory setup that allows the characters to have history that other individuals cannot match, while fate (and the format of the show) pushes them together over and over again indefinitely, without hope of lasting reconnection lest the setup break, the Doctor and Master’s codependent anti-soulmate life or death partnership arguably (narratively) cheapens every other pairing beyond comparison. Their tragedy never leaves you. (And keeps you up at night)
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ANTONY cry 'havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war
earlier in my script (which is not Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar), Antony refers to Dolabella as one of his ‘dogs of war’ when talking to Cassius (which IS a reference to Shakespeare’s JC), and it comes back around after Cicero writes to Cassius and informs him of Trebonius’ fate
While these things were taking place at Rome, Cassius and Brutus were collecting troops and money, and Trebonius, governor of the province of Asia, was fortifying his towns for them. [...] Trebonius, who was captured in bed, told his captors to lead the way to Dolabella, saying that he was willing to follow them. One of the centurions answered him facetiously, "Go where you please, but you must leave your head behind here, for we are ordered to bring your head, not yourself." With these words the centurion immediately cut off his head, and early in the morning Dolabella ordered it to be displayed on the praetor's chair where Trebonius was accustomed to transact public business. Since Trebonius had participated in the murder of Caesar by detaining Antony in conversation at the door of the Senate-house while the others killed him, the soldiers and camp-followers fell upon the rest of his body with fury and treated it with every kind of indignity. They rolled his head from one to another in sport along the city pavements like a ball till it was completely crushed. This was the first of the murderers who received the meed of his crime, and thus vengeance overtook him.
App. Civil Wars III. 26
For Dolabella is in Syria, and, as you have foreseen in your prophetic soul and have foretold, Cassius will crush him while they are on their way. For Dolabella has had the gates of Antioch shut in his face and got a good beating in trying to storm it. Not trusting in any other city, he has betaken himself to Laodicea, on the sea-coast of Syria. There I hope he will speedily pay the penalty of his crime: for he has no place of refuge, nor will he much longer be able there to stand out against an army as large as that of Cassius. I even hope that Dolabella has by this time been overpowered and crushed.
Cic. Fam. 12.14
Place then before your eyes, O conscript fathers, that spectacle, miserable indeed, and tearful, but still indispensable to rouse your minds properly: the nocturnal attack upon the most beautiful city in Asia; the irruption of armed men into Trebonius’s house, when that unhappy man saw the swords of the robbers before he heard what was the matter; the entrance of Dolabella, raging,—his ill-omened voice, and infamous countenance,—the chains, the scourges, the rack, the armourer who was both torturer and executioner; all which they say that the unhappy Trebonius endured with great fortitude. A great praise, and in my opinion indeed the greatest of all, for it is the part of a wise man to resolve beforehand that whatever can happen to a brave man is to be endured with patience if it should happen.
Cicero, Philippic 11
Philippi and Perusia, Ronald Syme
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