for magicalskeptic: A trip to the ocean

[rude_not_ginger]

"You wanted an ocean, have I got an ocean for you."

The Doctor darted around the console and scooped his jacket up from where it hung on one of the TARDIS pillars. He absolutely loved this bit. The first trip to an alien world with someone who didn't even believe in other worlds until now. Very little was more exciting.

"Now! We've got breathable atmosphere, low radiation, and a beautiful summer day. The waters of the Greeio Malgoon are purple in the summer, which is when they're the warmest and the safest. I'd have taken you to them in the winter when they're blue, but the water's acid content gets a bit high and ends up spewing out strange creatures with eyes that shoot lasers. Green lasers, they disintegrate you without much warning. Very technicolor world, the Greeo Malgoon."

He shrugged. "Still! In the summer, peak of tourist season, it's the most brilliant place for a visit."

Comments

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Raising her eyebrows, she sighs, hoping he is right. Fleeing from whatever is happening might mean no one is hurt. On the other hand, "Why would you flee your home, with no attempt to defend it?" They may have seen steam, a monster, and a plume of smoke, but nothing that screams damage, at least nothing severe enough to abandon the city.

Well, they certainly are not going to learn anything staying put. "Come, we are putting off the inevitable." With that, Morgana takes a step forward, releasing the Doctor's hand.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"You and I have seen the impossible, Morgana. We're not afraid of it. The people here are peaceful, they've probably never seen anything like this."

A pause.

"Well, apart from undead creatures with green lasers coming out of their eyes during the winter, you know, I don't know. We'll need to find out."

And with that, he stays immediately behind her as she steps ahead.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

While she does not look at him, she cannot help but comment. "If undead creatures that can kill the residents for one entire season, are not enough to make them leave, why they now?"

Morgana has an odd notion about the corridor; it is like the inside of the Doctor's head, and although this door is indicating entry, any of the others might provide something equally interesting.

But she's also learned that what is interesting does not always mean relevant, so she looks only to the one door, and opens it.

Instantly, there is a flash, like a powerful bolt of lightning, and that causes her to cover her eyes.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Well, maybe not, but they usually seek refuge on---"

The light hits him right in the eyes, but he manages to leap forward and slam shut the door. Bright spots obscure his vision a moment.

"Some sort of a trap, I think," he says. "Are you all right? Did you look into it?"

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Blinking her eyes, Morgana is both frustrated, and, temporarily, almost blinded by the bright spots. The flash was so bright, when her vision begins to clear, it looks like only half of the Doctor is there. "Directly into it, unfortunately." She blinks again.

"We keep going where we we are shown, like livestock being rounded up for slaughter." She pauses, hoping that her comment is only an over-dramatic simile. "They wanted us separated on the street. They wanted us to take shelter inside. They wanted us at this door. I do not want to do what they want anymore."

She squeezes her eyes tightly shut again, hoping to get rid of most of the blotches. Looking back at the Doctor, he is now 3/4 clear, which is enough for her to pick any door and try it -- which she does. She selects the one directly opposite to the trap, and opens.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"No, Morgana, don't---!"

He reaches out to try to stop her, but the door is already open by the time he gets there.

To his surprise, inside the door is a child's bedroom. Dolls line the table and a frilly lace bedspread covers the tiny bed. The walls are a light pink and are adorned with pretty pastel paintings of horses and dolls.

The entire room is coated in about an inch of snow. Despite the low ceiling, a steady stream of light snow continues to fall. The room is unbearably quiet.

Cautiously, the Doctor takes a step in, his trainers crunching in the snow.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana is always going to pick a door the Doctor does not want her to. For a moment, she almost says that he said there were four or five more days until winter, but that would be ridiculous because it is snowing inside.

Morgana walks in right behind him, the snow immediately melting on her light summer shoes, making her feet wet and cold, and leaving small traces of the colour from the brackish liquid in her wake. She runs her finger across the top of a dresser, disturbing the snow as one would dust.

There is a distinct temperature difference in this room than in the corridor.

And Morgana says something that is becoming more and more common on this adventure. "Doctor, this snow is not purple either."

The room looks undisturbed, but it is a child's room nonetheless, so Morgana feels obligated to look for one. The first thing she does (with about 90% of her vision back) is crouch down and check under the bed.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"And it's inside," the Doctor says, restating the obvious. He pulls out the sonic and points it to the ceiling, but the readouts aren't clear enough for him to make any sort of judgment.

A tinny music begins to play and he spins around, but a tiny ballerina music box on the side table has opened without warning, and a little robotic ballerina does a dance on the center of it while a tune the Doctor doesn't recognize plays around her.

It's not often the Doctor is chilled to his bone, but this place downright scares him.

"I think we should leave this room," he says, taking a cautious step back.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

There is something under the bed -- a small book, pink with a silver lock on it, that Morgana reaches for when the music box starts playing. She only knows what it is because she was shown one elsewhere.

She grabs onto the book, and then looks at the Doctor, she's only ever seen him look frightened once before, when she was uncertain if he was mad, so his fear now is even more disturbing.

The snow under her knees chills her, and when she stands, the reddish colour left on the floor from the stains on her gown makes it look like something was slaughtered.

"Doctor, what is it?" The decor is horrific -- granted, she is used to tapestries and stone, but she needs to establish what exactly is so wrong that causes him to look scared.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Can't you feel it?" he asks, pacing the room. "Not just the atmosphere, not just the snow, something is wrong in this room, something is wrong in this place."

He reaches out to the robotic ballerina, but as his hand nears it, the music box stops playing. He looks back to the dolls. Did their heads move to look towards him.

"I know evil, Morgana. It's in this place."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Taking in the pink frills, and girlishness of the room, Morgana can admit to feeling uncomfortable with the pristine nature of a room filled with snow, but the evil of which the Doctor speaks is escaping her.

That is, until she's certain the dolls moved and the music stops.

She takes a step closer to him, and thus, closer to the exit. "This was under the bed." She holds out the small pink book with the lock. She would be unfamiliar as to what it might be. "Everything else is out in the open, so why try to hide this?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He looks at the book, then at her, surprised.

"What made you think to look under the bed?"

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

When he does not take the book, she fiddles with the lock. At first, Morgana debates using her might-be-a-screwdriver, but the lock is so flimsy, it gives ways, with a slight tug.

"This is a child's room. Did you not ever hide things, or even yourself under a bed as a child?" Morgana, for her time, was lucky enough to always have a bed, but knows that is not the case for everyone. "That is, unless you did not have a bed." Sometimes the realities of her rank make her sound a bit unintentionally pompous.

As she speaks, she's flipping through the pages, only to find a messy child-like scrawl, riddled with spelling errors, on each of the pages. Only about a dozen pages are written upon, but the last entry is interesting.

"What do you think this means?" This time, she expects him take it.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"No, I hid other places," he says, taking the book from her. "Don't sleep all that much, my people."

He slips on his glasses. Snow falls on the page, but the writing doesn't smudge. It's been here a while.

"G.M. Better take it with us, have the TARDIS translate it," he says. Anything to get out of this room. He turns to leave and starts.

"The door." It's gone.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

"What do you mean your people do not sleep much?" Morgana's slowly picking up on the differences between Time Lords and humans, so she tends to focus on the few facts he does drop.

"And would G.M. not be --" she is about to say something when the lack of the door is pointed out.

This does not go over well. There are very few things Morgana is irrational over. In fact, they are limited to 3 things: her nightmares, her relationships with those closest to her, and being locked in. She steps around the Doctor and stands where the door should have been.

She is not going to panic, she tells herself.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I knew it," he hisses. "I knew we should've gotten out of here."

He pulls out the sonic and gives the door a quick once-over. "Solid wall, all the way through. No hallway, no way out, and is it getting colder to you?"

He looks at the wall. Ice begins solidifying overtop of the pictures, and long icicles

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

She hisses back. "Well, we did not, so pointing out the obvious does nothing," save make her resolve not to panic that much weaker.

Morgana, who is dressed only in a summer gown, did not notice the temperature difference, simply because she's been cold the entire time in the room, but watching the ice creep down the walls, and the small area that melted where she knelt for a moment freeze over into a small patch of ice, makes her colder. The still damp areas on her skirts also freeze. She wraps her arms around herself.

There is not an anteroom, or closet, but there is a small window. "Does that open?" The Doctor is closer, she is not panicking, thank you very much.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"It might."

He slips his jacket off and places it on her shoulders as he heads towards it. This was supposed to be a trip to the beach. It was supposed to be quick and fun and warm. Now, they're freezing, trapped in a room that radiates evil and wrongness and without much of a way out.

He grips the sides of it and tries to give it a tug up.

"Frozen solid," he says. "There must be something we can smash it with."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Holding the jacket tight about her, Morgana is trying to keep her teeth from chattering. "Can you not use your sonic?" It does everything else, so why not that? Not that Morgana would truly know, hers only opens, and locks, doors.

To keep her mind occupied, she's looking for something good for breaking glass. The delicate nature of all the pink frilly toys makes it difficult.

Usually, she would never invade someone's privacy, but she starts going through the drawers of the dresser, looking for something. All she finds are a child's summer clothes.

And then, her brain, finally kicks in. She pulls out the drawer. The wood is solid, "What about this?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I can't, the panel is wood," he says.

He takes the drawer from Morgana and swings it towards the window. It shatters spectacularly, ice and glass raining towards him. To his dismay, though, the only thing on the other side is a brick wall.

"No, no, no!" he says. "No, there has to be a way out, there's always a way out!"

He hops up and looks down. "There's a space here, we might be able to move through the walls!"

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Small spaces do not bother Morgana, it is the inability to escape that is distressing, so she moves beside him to examine the space. The glass and ice crunch under her feet. It is tight, but she knows she'll fit but, "Are you sure you will fit?"

The air from the passage is much warmer.

Grabbing one of the pillows off the bed, she knocks at the remnants of glass around the edges, to avoid injuries.

"Who should go first?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He looks down at her, then down at himself.

"I didn't have that large a lunch, Morgana," he says, sounding a bit offended.

"And I'll go first. If there's something in there, I don't want you having to find out first."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana, being naturally small, was not implying anything more than that, but if he chooses to be offended, so will she.

"You do realize I am quite capable of dealing with most things," She snaps. "But I would be better at it if I had my dagger."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"And how, exactly, is a weapon going to pit you against anything this place has to offer?" he demands, irritated. "You're in the middle of a room that shouldn't be freezing in a building that shouldn't be standing in a city that shouldn't be empty. A dagger is not going to make anything better, all right?"

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

"It might have helped downstairs," She reminds him.

Glaring at him, for a second, Morgana does not await permission, and hops onto the ledge and swings her legs over into the tight passageway. She looks both ways -- each has a faint light at the end.

The glass from the window crunches beneath her feet, but there is an immediate problem, after a couple of steps, there is no longer a floor. There is a gasp when she falls; there isn't time for anything else. It is only about six feet, but not expecting it, she hits the floor below, hard, and lets out a yelp of pain.

"Doctor?!" When Morgana looks up at the new space she is in, she immediately spots something that makes her far more sad than frightened.

It's a skeleton, a small one, and all Morgana can think is that it's the former occupant of the room.