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Open (Becky's Jack circa 1906 - finished)
Worried by the other Doctor's muttering about this place killing his TARDIS, he'd gone back to his own to check up on her. She seemed fine. Stable, not losing energy. But no matter how many times he tried, and what coordinates he punched in, she couldn't complete dematerialisation.
That was far too reminiscent of the years he'd spent trapped on Earth by his own people. He seethed a bit, stomping around the console room, but patted the TARDIS apologetically when he was done to let her know it wasn't her fault.
It was a bit of comfort to know, like most that time in the 1970s, that the Master was trapped here with him. Two actually - the disturbingly crazy version, and the disturbingly human one.
Upon reflection, that wasn't very comforting.
Oh, well. Puttering around the TARDIS probably wasn't going to get him home any faster. Maybe he should investigate some of the little shops around. He liked a little shop. If he was lucky he'd run into someone new and interesting to talk to. Which would be a wonderful distraction from the fact that he was not at all where he'd wanted to be.
Ooh, hardware.
That was far too reminiscent of the years he'd spent trapped on Earth by his own people. He seethed a bit, stomping around the console room, but patted the TARDIS apologetically when he was done to let her know it wasn't her fault.
It was a bit of comfort to know, like most that time in the 1970s, that the Master was trapped here with him. Two actually - the disturbingly crazy version, and the disturbingly human one.
Upon reflection, that wasn't very comforting.
Oh, well. Puttering around the TARDIS probably wasn't going to get him home any faster. Maybe he should investigate some of the little shops around. He liked a little shop. If he was lucky he'd run into someone new and interesting to talk to. Which would be a wonderful distraction from the fact that he was not at all where he'd wanted to be.
Ooh, hardware.