And all around him, the TARDIS was on fire. Sparks showered There was a screech of metal, and in the blaze, he could have sworn it was the TARDIS writhing in pain.
Daniel let out a small sound of discomfort as the Master tightened his fingers against his skull and into his hair. He didn't resist as he was pulled closer.
When the Pandorica's doors closed, it was like a tomb sealed shut. He was buried alive. No way in, no way out. Not for him. The sound of personal fear and helplessness compressed very neatly into one sound. Daniel stared dumbly at the interior for a fraction of a second. That fraction stretched out for an eternity, all fear, panic: he'd escaped from jails and prisons across the known universe, but this was the first time he knew that he couldn't escape this one. It felt like even his hearts were muffled in the oppressing silence.
Then he tested the restraints. Gave his wrists a good shake, a better twist. They didn't give, and it was well they didn't considering this was the perfect prison. You couldn't call it the Not Quite So Perfect Prison if these gave.
Daniel tried again anyway, this time with more desperation. He nearly wrenched his wrists. There had to be a way out. There always was. Pond was out there, with Rory the Impossible Roman, River Song. The universe was going to end if he didn't get back to the TARDIS and their reaction was to lock him away and throw away the key? Were they insane?! Something of a loaded question considering who he was dealing with, but there was a time and place for petty revenge schemes actually working and when you had to let him prove that he wasn't actually behind their reality's imminent destruction.
The hopelessness of the situation was growing heavy in the air. For the first time, Daniel began to seriously contemplate his likely future. This box would survive everything. Thousands of years by himself. Never dying. Everything else he ever knew gone. It was a fate worse than death.
He began to struggle again. He had to think of a way out. But even as he did, he knew it wasn't happening this time.
no subject
Daniel let out a small sound of discomfort as the Master tightened his fingers against his skull and into his hair. He didn't resist as he was pulled closer.
When the Pandorica's doors closed, it was like a tomb sealed shut. He was buried alive. No way in, no way out. Not for him. The sound of personal fear and helplessness compressed very neatly into one sound. Daniel stared dumbly at the interior for a fraction of a second. That fraction stretched out for an eternity, all fear, panic: he'd escaped from jails and prisons across the known universe, but this was the first time he knew that he couldn't escape this one. It felt like even his hearts were muffled in the oppressing silence.
Then he tested the restraints. Gave his wrists a good shake, a better twist. They didn't give, and it was well they didn't considering this was the perfect prison. You couldn't call it the Not Quite So Perfect Prison if these gave.
Daniel tried again anyway, this time with more desperation. He nearly wrenched his wrists. There had to be a way out. There always was. Pond was out there, with Rory the Impossible Roman, River Song. The universe was going to end if he didn't get back to the TARDIS and their reaction was to lock him away and throw away the key? Were they insane?! Something of a loaded question considering who he was dealing with, but there was a time and place for petty revenge schemes actually working and when you had to let him prove that he wasn't actually behind their reality's imminent destruction.
The hopelessness of the situation was growing heavy in the air. For the first time, Daniel began to seriously contemplate his likely future. This box would survive everything. Thousands of years by himself. Never dying. Everything else he ever knew gone. It was a fate worse than death.
He began to struggle again. He had to think of a way out. But even as he did, he knew it wasn't happening this time.