The door creaks open. There are the harsh guttural groans and sharp tones of Goa'uld -- guards, talking to each other, and then the sound of what has to be boot scrapping against the floor. The door opens, two of the guards tossing the Doctor inside.
He's starting to come to from whatever got him in the face back in Sobek's thrown room, just in time to hit the floor, narrowly missing landing on Eva as his human cushion. He registers that ow doesn't really describe what he's feeling right now as he sprawls on the floor. It's not the worst pain he's ever been through - try regenerating -- but it's certainly...inconvenient. His arms and legs shake, trembling on him as he tries to squirm awake in the dark. Considering how active he is normally, his squirms are feeble in comparison and rather clumsy considering how much practice he has at exactly this sort of thing. It's hardly impressive. The Doctor's eyes flutter open. Blurs. Mostly between light and dark, color seems to have stepped out for a moment and it hasn't even had the courtesy to leave a note telling him when it will come back.
Focusing past that high-pitched whine in his ears, the Doctor realizes he can hear someone breathing in the dim light. Wheezes. It takes another moment to realize that it's him. Whatever that terrible like weapon was, it exactly the same as getting mule-kicked in the lungs several times for good measure. The Doctor struggles to prop himself up, (wheezes under his breath) and waits for his hearts to stop jittering on him.
"Who's there? Human, by your breath rate." He casts about in the dark. Make that female human. Probably Eva or Vala.
Re: Jailhouse Blues: Eva and Eleven
He's starting to come to from whatever got him in the face back in Sobek's thrown room, just in time to hit the floor, narrowly missing landing on Eva as his human cushion. He registers that ow doesn't really describe what he's feeling right now as he sprawls on the floor. It's not the worst pain he's ever been through - try regenerating -- but it's certainly...inconvenient. His arms and legs shake, trembling on him as he tries to squirm awake in the dark. Considering how active he is normally, his squirms are feeble in comparison and rather clumsy considering how much practice he has at exactly this sort of thing. It's hardly impressive. The Doctor's eyes flutter open. Blurs. Mostly between light and dark, color seems to have stepped out for a moment and it hasn't even had the courtesy to leave a note telling him when it will come back.
Focusing past that high-pitched whine in his ears, the Doctor realizes he can hear someone breathing in the dim light. Wheezes. It takes another moment to realize that it's him. Whatever that terrible like weapon was, it exactly the same as getting mule-kicked in the lungs several times for good measure. The Doctor struggles to prop himself up, (wheezes under his breath) and waits for his hearts to stop jittering on him.
"Who's there? Human, by your breath rate." He casts about in the dark. Make that female human. Probably Eva or Vala.