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

[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.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Morgana!" the Doctor cries as she leaps down. Stupid, stupid woman. Aggravating and frustrating woman! She's going to get herself killed!

He swings his legs over the edge and follows after, very nearly landing on the small skeleton hiding away by the wall. His anger at Morgana's actions evaporates immediately.

He kneels down. "Must've hidden away here from whatever was scaring her in the house," he says.

To the skeleton, he adds: "I'm so sorry."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana's stubbornness has often caused her to blunder ahead, getting into trouble, but that's not something she's going to discuss with him, right now, or ever, if she has her way.

"She would have been better under the bed." The thought of the wasted life makes her angry. "Why would no one notice she was missing? Who was watching her and where did they go?" The anger might be accidentally redirected towards the Doctor, though it isn't him she's angry at.

She rubs her arms. She's going to have bruises from the fall.

Although, this does prove one thing. "Whatever happened here, happened a long time ago." Morgana's been around death; she knows it's smell. Not only is this child a skeleton, but there was no lingering odour of decay.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Or it started a long time ago," the Doctor replies. "I don't think it's finished."

If it was, the traps laid out so carefully for them wouldn't still be in place.

He nods ahead of her. "Go on," he says. "Let's find the heart of this maze, shall we?"

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Taking a moment to stand, Morgana has to pick up his jacked off the floor. It fell off when she fell, and she folds it over her arm.

She looks up from where she fell. "We need to get back up first." This would be a bad time to point out she is the reason they're stuck here in the first place.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"No way out that way," he says. "We'll try moving through the walls. Bit stronger than she is, and I might be able to loosen a few screws with the sonic if we end up stuck."

He places his hand on her shoulder. "Don't fancy tight spaces myself, but we're running out of options."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

That look the Doctor is receiving, might be a bit of disbelief, but as they have no other options, "Perhaps, this time, you might lead the way."

Not that she's wishing him to fall down holes, or run into phantoms, it's more, her luck in the matter has been atrocious.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He nods. He'd be smug, he'd be pleased to be in the lead, but there's a little girl's skeleton near them and the unending feeling of wrong about this place. This is far too serious.

"Just stay close," he says.

The corridor is filthy and tight, with thick purple dust and strange cobwebs lining the sides. The Doctor pushes through them without concern.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

As it's not an order, and it's eminently sensible, Morgana follows only half a pace behind the Doctor.

The cobwebs catch on her arms, and her hair, but she can't take the time to pick them off, as the Doctor is moving quickly, "Watch your head." The ceilings are low enough that he might risk hitting his head, but it's fine, for Morgana.

She reaches out and snags onto his sleeve, to keep closer. The dull light at the end of the tunnel is getting brighter.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"It feels like we're going upwards," the Doctor says, ducking down to avoid hitting his head. "Maybe towards an attic, or a storeroom?"

It's getting closer, at least. He can almost make out what's at the end when he hears a sickening sort of crunch

"What was---"

Without warning, the walls at the end of the corridor from which they came begin to snap together. One after another.

"Run!"

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana looks behind her at the noise. The sense of urgency is increased as each wall snaps together.

The corridor is skinny enough, that she cannot squeeze by the Doctor, still leaving her a pace behind, but that's all she is. There will not be any tripping, or inability to keep up from Morgana.

In fact, there are a couple times she puts her hand on the Doctor's back, to stop from running into him.

The faster they run, the faster the corridor shuts behind them, until they reach the light -- a slightly ajar door.

When they burst through, it's the opposite environment from whence they came. The room is large, and mostly windows, showing the dark outside of the planet. In the centre of the room is an oval table, with over a dozen chairs, all occupied with piles of bones -- skeletons unable to keep their shape.

The only wall that is not completely glass is a variety of technological (Morgana hates that words) instruments, none of which make any sense to her.

Instead, she's looking, in surprise, at the long-dead people who once sat around the table.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He pulls Morgana through as he bursts through, just as the wall snaps closed. He takes a breath, but his relief doesn't last.

"Seems this is why they weren't looking for their daughter," the Doctor says. "But---"

He takes a step to the full table and runs a hand across his jaw.

"Something's wrong," he says. "Something's very wrong."

He counts. "All the seats are taken."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

These people are all long dead, and do not evoke the same pity as the little girl. "Doctor, would aliens not look different? These all look human." Granted, she's not planning on examining them too closely to confirm it.

There's another thought. "If the table is full, who is left to cause all of the havoc?" Then again, this looks like a room for powerful people. The eras may be different, but the subtle cues -- the large, solid table, the lush chairs, the cavernous nature of a glass room, all indicate power.

"Where are their servants?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor stalks around the chair and, without warning, bursts into a wide grin.

"Oh, I think we've been had, Morgana," he says. "Like the thing that scared you at the top of the stairs, like the sounds we've been hearing. We're being toyed with, frightened by the things that scare us."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

As to what that was at the top of the stairs, Morgana stays silent. "They have been playing tricks on us all along but," it might be ridiculous, but Morgana suggests it because she has little else to offer, "we have assumed there is someone." People like the ones at the table always have servants, yet no one else is around, just the little girl and the people at the table.

"I do not understand, Doctor, if this is supposed to be a place where people travel to, would not scaring them stop everyone from arriving? And how is it known what terrifies me? Why have you not been scared?"

Morgana turns to the wall of technology and touches what she does not realize is a screen. It turns on, taking her aback for a second, until she recognizes the scene. There is a view of the beach, where they landed. She's sure of it.

"Doctor, where is the TARDIS?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor steps behind her and looks at the screen. Terror shoots through his veins again.

"Just trying to scare us," he says, primarily to calm himself. "That's all it is. Just an illusion, a trick. Trying to get us to run back to the beach, to stay afraid."

There's a creak behind him and he turns. The piles of bones are now skeletons, solid and still.

"Oh no."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana has been around reanimated corpses, but at least they have had something -- rotting flesh, sinews, something to hold themselves together.

Thus, she reaches what she hopes is the truthful conclusion. "That must be an illusion as well." She almost says sorcery, but stops herself.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"We hope," the Doctor says, ominously.

The screech from the floor as the chairs are pushed back sounds real enough, and the Doctor steps between the skeletons and Morgana protectively.

"I think we should opt for running again. Door?"