[Ten] Seeking Rose
Who: Ten, Martha
Where: The jungle
When: Day 36, during The Impossible is Quite Possibly True
Invited: Romana, anyone else who wants to follow along/join up along the way
Status: Complete
((OOC: This will eventually segue into Sultry Heat))
Distraction, distraction, distraction. That's what the Doctor was doing, finding ways to distract himself from the too distant TARDIS in his mind and the questions that plagued him regarding how he and Martha wound up here to begin with. It wasn't normal; nothing should have been able to pull them off of the TARDIS, and certainly nothing should have been able to move them through the void.
Yet, here they were in this beautiful, if strange and off-feeling, tropical jungle with Romana and the last incarnation of himself . . . and Rose. Rose alive and well and . . . Rose Tyler. He never thought to see her again, even if she wasn't *his* Rose so much as the Rose of this peculiar particular little universe, his hearts leapt for joy and he couldn't quite push through the undergrowth and overgrowth quickly enough.
"Doctor, wait!" Martha's voice called out behind him. "We need to talk!"
"Yes, and we will," the Doctor promised with a call over his shoulder. "We'll talk to everyone, get answers and I'll get you home again, I will, but first -"
"No, that isn't what I meant," Martha's hand on his arm caught him, stopped him and spun him around to face her. She had more strength than she appeared that she would. "You need to stop for a moment. I know what Rose meant to you - means to you - but this is more important."
It wasn't her words that held him in place - although those did lend a good deal of weight to stopping his mad charge - but the mask that fell over Martha's face coupled with the complete lack of emotion in her words. He could pretend to not notice that Martha was on the retreat, but that wouldn't solve anything and the Doctor knew it. He'd dragged her She'd come back to him and he promised that this time would be different. He'd hurt her terribly before and hadn't appreciated her until she was gone; humans and their emotions were so terribly fragile, he would have to walk a careful line on this one.
"I know you wouldn't say that lightly, what's it about then? That lot back there? They'll mind themselves for a bit and we know where to find -"
"Doctor, it's about . . . Harold Saxon." Martha lowered her voice as though afraid the trees might be listening, and maybe it was possible that they were. "He's here. He was back in that clearing."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Doctor!"
"But I should have - or Romana should have - unless . . . do you think he . . ."
"Maybe. There's no way for you to just - I don't know - know?" There was the spark, the curiosity, the hope that was so much Martha. Serious and ready to save the world if required.
"No, unfortunately not," the Doctor looked back from where they came and then ahead where he could feel himself. Rose Tyler was likely there with him, but if it was Saxon, "Are you quite certain that it's him?"
"I think I looked him in the face often enough to recognize him."
"Right. This is quite the conundrum isn't it?"
Where: The jungle
When: Day 36, during The Impossible is Quite Possibly True
Invited: Romana, anyone else who wants to follow along/join up along the way
Status: Complete
((OOC: This will eventually segue into Sultry Heat))
Distraction, distraction, distraction. That's what the Doctor was doing, finding ways to distract himself from the too distant TARDIS in his mind and the questions that plagued him regarding how he and Martha wound up here to begin with. It wasn't normal; nothing should have been able to pull them off of the TARDIS, and certainly nothing should have been able to move them through the void.
Yet, here they were in this beautiful, if strange and off-feeling, tropical jungle with Romana and the last incarnation of himself . . . and Rose. Rose alive and well and . . . Rose Tyler. He never thought to see her again, even if she wasn't *his* Rose so much as the Rose of this peculiar particular little universe, his hearts leapt for joy and he couldn't quite push through the undergrowth and overgrowth quickly enough.
"Doctor, wait!" Martha's voice called out behind him. "We need to talk!"
"Yes, and we will," the Doctor promised with a call over his shoulder. "We'll talk to everyone, get answers and I'll get you home again, I will, but first -"
"No, that isn't what I meant," Martha's hand on his arm caught him, stopped him and spun him around to face her. She had more strength than she appeared that she would. "You need to stop for a moment. I know what Rose meant to you - means to you - but this is more important."
It wasn't her words that held him in place - although those did lend a good deal of weight to stopping his mad charge - but the mask that fell over Martha's face coupled with the complete lack of emotion in her words. He could pretend to not notice that Martha was on the retreat, but that wouldn't solve anything and the Doctor knew it. He'd dragged her She'd come back to him and he promised that this time would be different. He'd hurt her terribly before and hadn't appreciated her until she was gone; humans and their emotions were so terribly fragile, he would have to walk a careful line on this one.
"I know you wouldn't say that lightly, what's it about then? That lot back there? They'll mind themselves for a bit and we know where to find -"
"Doctor, it's about . . . Harold Saxon." Martha lowered her voice as though afraid the trees might be listening, and maybe it was possible that they were. "He's here. He was back in that clearing."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Doctor!"
"But I should have - or Romana should have - unless . . . do you think he . . ."
"Maybe. There's no way for you to just - I don't know - know?" There was the spark, the curiosity, the hope that was so much Martha. Serious and ready to save the world if required.
"No, unfortunately not," the Doctor looked back from where they came and then ahead where he could feel himself. Rose Tyler was likely there with him, but if it was Saxon, "Are you quite certain that it's him?"
"I think I looked him in the face often enough to recognize him."
"Right. This is quite the conundrum isn't it?"