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Talking Muses: #6B: Picture Prompt
Sep. 11th, 2006 01:23 pmPicture Prompt
"This isn't so bad," said the Doctor, tucking his hands behind his head and reclining with his back against the stone wall.
"Not bad? Not bad!" shrilled Peri as she paced the narrow confines of their cell. "It's terrible! It's cramped and it's cold and it's damp and it stinks. Some vacation! Stuck in the dungeon of a castle on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere--"
"—Transylvania--"
"—waiting to get our heads chopped off by some blood thirsty tyrant who thinks we're spies for the Turks!"
"Vlad," the Doctor corrected her. "His name is Vlad, and beheadings aren't exactly his style. He prefers a more creative means of execution."
"Thank you so much for clearing that up."
"Look on the bright side. We have a window."
"Oh, great! A window with lots of iron bars!" she said sarcastically. "Who needs a watch to tell us when we're going to be executed when we can see the sun set from the comfort of our cell?"
"Precisely! And as long as we can see daylight, we still have time."
"Time for what?"
"Liberation, my dear Perpegillium," proclaimed the Doctor as he bounded onto his feet. "Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage." With a flourish, he produced a sonic lance from one of the many capacious pockets of his colorful coat. "Especially when you can cut through them as easily as butter!"
"This isn't so bad," said the Doctor, tucking his hands behind his head and reclining with his back against the stone wall.
"Not bad? Not bad!" shrilled Peri as she paced the narrow confines of their cell. "It's terrible! It's cramped and it's cold and it's damp and it stinks. Some vacation! Stuck in the dungeon of a castle on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere--"
"—Transylvania--"
"—waiting to get our heads chopped off by some blood thirsty tyrant who thinks we're spies for the Turks!"
"Vlad," the Doctor corrected her. "His name is Vlad, and beheadings aren't exactly his style. He prefers a more creative means of execution."
"Thank you so much for clearing that up."
"Look on the bright side. We have a window."
"Oh, great! A window with lots of iron bars!" she said sarcastically. "Who needs a watch to tell us when we're going to be executed when we can see the sun set from the comfort of our cell?"
"Precisely! And as long as we can see daylight, we still have time."
"Time for what?"
"Liberation, my dear Perpegillium," proclaimed the Doctor as he bounded onto his feet. "Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage." With a flourish, he produced a sonic lance from one of the many capacious pockets of his colorful coat. "Especially when you can cut through them as easily as butter!"
