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The Master lurks in the shadows, preparing for the perfect moment to strike. A direct ambush feels beneath him even in this state, but there are few options at his disposal, and he's not yet ready to admit defeat. The Doctor would love if that were the case, revel in his humiliation, and it's exactly that knowledge that powers the Master's determination now, that enabled him to crawl on his stomach out of the Eye of Harmony, weak human host body dissolved but his true being still alive.
Hatred is the force that pushes him now, he'll not concede victory so easily, and if he can't take over the Doctor's body, he might as well destroy him. It's the revenge that the Master deserves for having the same done to him, and perhaps he can find a way to siphon the Doctor's regeneration energy to fashion himself a new body.
He holds himself against the ceiling, adherence of his gelatinous body working in his favour as there's nothing else that he could use to climb. He holds himself, and he waits, as if counting on the predatory instincts that he doesn't have.
The Doctor arrives in the console room as careless as he always is, not even bothering to look at his surroundings. All that the Master has to do is wait for the moment that he passes below him and…
With one sure jump, the Master lands on the Doctor's shoulder, and quickly wraps himself around the Doctor's neck before he can have a chance to react. This time, his victory is assured, he'll be the one to have the final laugh in this eternal struggle of theirs.
“Oh, there you are. I was afraid you had gotten yourself stuck somewhere again,” the Doctor says, raising a hand and tapping the Master on the head.
The Master hisses and pulls tighter at the Doctor's neck, resenting the implication. He wasn't stuck in any occasion, this death machine that is the Doctor's TARDIS intentionally trapped him multiple times, as well as surely tried to kill him, only for the Doctor to appear and assume that the Master had done that to himself through some incompetence.
“Alright, I know, not stuck. You don't have to remind me again, sleep is supposed to be restful and that can't happen with you shouting telepathic messages at me,” the Doctor says, and the Master makes a mental note of keep doing just that, since it clearly is working in weakening his enemy.
The Doctor's mental shields are just barely passable enough to protect him when he's awake, but if the Master is patience enough to wait for him to sleep, they can have something approaching a conversation. Or rather, he can send the Doctor a message and the Doctor doesn't have the discipline to follow the origin of it in order to reply, but after a few minutes he'll wake up and argue with the Master while still keeping his mind too closed for a proper dialogue. So far, the only advantage of that form of communication is that it keeps the Doctor from sleeping as much as he would like.
“This is actually a bit snug,” the Doctor says, trying to work a finger between his throat and the Master's body. “Do you think you could…?”
The Master hisses again, and does his best to properly strangle the Doctor. Unfortunately, his body might be neither solid nor strong enough for the task, but he can still relish in the attempt. He can't let the Doctor think that, just because he currently has no humanoid body, he would give up entirely on his goal of defeating the Doctor. He has simply accepted that, given his limited options, killing him might take some time. But if the Doctor tries to destroy him as he is now, imprison him, or leave him behind somewhere, he'll learn that the Master isn't so easily defeated. The Doctor hasn't tried any of that yet.
“Alright, you can stay as the universe's weirdest scarf if that's what you want,” the Doctor says, conceding defeat and pulling back his finger.
It's only a lost battle, while the Doctor still believes that he won the war, but that will only make it easier for the Master to exploit his over confidence.
“I suppose this way I at least know where you are,” the Doctor says, continuing to speak despite the Master's best efforts to restrict his airway.
Even with their respiratory bypass – or really at this point the Master should say the Doctor's respiratory bypass, as he no longer has any need to breathe in a traditional sense, and performs gas exchanges through his entire surface –, if his strangulation were working at all, the Doctor should already be sounding out of breath. As it stands, the Doctor might be slightly uncomfortable, but not at any risk of suffocation, and so the Master reluctantly eases his grasp, less as a concession and more because maintaining the pressure was too tiring.
“Oh, that's better. While you're being helpful, any chance you could let me sleep undisturbed or at least give me more pleasant dreams?” the Doctor says.
The Master only hisses in response. This is only a tactical retreat, he hasn't given up on defeating the Doctor, and he certainly won't start taking orders. Although he can think of a few telepathic messages that might reaffirm his power and dominance while still not being something that the Doctor would call unpleasant.
“It was worth the try. So, where shall we go today? I'd let you set the coordinates, but we both know the old girl won't agree to it,” the Doctor says, shuffling the coordinates randomly without waiting for any sort of reply.
From experience, the Doctor will drag him to some conflict that neither of have have any business getting involved in, and then risk both their lives while doing what he wants. Still, the Master does nothing to stop him, since this might present him with a better opportunity to defeat the Doctor after this failed strangulation attempt. And if nothing else, at least it's always entertaining to watch the Doctor running for his life.