[RP] Every night I hone my plan, how I will get my satisfaction, how I will blow your paradise away…

[john_thane]

It's late – or early – when Thane wanders back into the prisoners' room again, pausing just outside the doorless threshold. Hart is asleep, or at the very least docile, and Thane's been going through the Doctor's journal with a fine scan, before anyone gets the idea to retroactively lock anything against him. Psychic networks are tricky like that. Aside from the usual public nonsense, not much has been coming that journal's way.

...except that now, after he thinks he's got most of the backlogged entries down, and flipped to the beginning again...

He came over to ask some valid questions. But the prisoners are talking amongst themselves, none of them asleep even at this awkward hour, and he can't suppress a pang of curiosity. Or what he tells himself can't be a pang of jealous hurt, because he's the one in power here, and what does it matter that they can cling to each other except that it gives him one more thing to take away?

He's got someone to cling to. Or if not cling to, then fuck, and it's not like he needs anything else.

Comments

[xiaomei-mei.livejournal.com]

There's a bit of a pause in the stream of dialogue - or monologue, really, as the Doctor was telling them a story.

"Did they have ice planets there? Or candy floss?" April asks, all curiosity and surprisingly little fear or pain. She's still on the Doctor's lap (or, well, on his lap again, after giving him time to regain feeling in his legs), and seems to be pretty comfortable.

The Doctor's probably still taking advantage of the contact to keep her awareness of pain muted somewhat.