He had, for all intents and purposes, been quite content (despite the relatively unexpected boredom that had resulted after he'd taken his position as lord and master of Earth) and he'd just been informed that Martha Jones' whereabouts had been found: the Doctor would be able to watch her die in front of his own eyes, powerless to help
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He pressed his lips together and cast her a look of mock pity. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was that a little too much? A year, Martha Jones, and you've hardly changed at all. I thought traversing the planet was meant to help a person grow." As she started to walk away from him, he spoke again. "I'm sure that would be far more discomforting if I weren't capable of working it out. As it is, you just look like a petulant child."
"But it's curious, isn't it? You're here, I'm here and him. Oh, he did tell you about our wonderful little gift, didn't he? How we know whenever another Time Lord is around and, here's the best bit, we know who it is regardless of regeneration! So, run along. I'm sure you're going to want to tell your little group of friends all about it."
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"Maybe you're right," she said with a shrug. "Maybe I am just a child. But that doesn't change the fact that you don't have any power here. And you never will."
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"Oh, and, um, fortune telling. Never a good occupational choice for a human."
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If the collapse of the Rush was any indication as to what the gods were capable of when they were just bored, she didn't even want to think of what they were capable of when they were actually angry.
"Welcome to El Dorado, Master. Hope you enjoy just being one of us."
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