𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜 (𝟙)

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FOUR HOURS AND twenty-seven minutes. callisto and the doctor had been trapped in a prison cell together for four and a half hours. two-hundred and sixty-seven very long minutes. the sonic screwdriver had been taken by the ruler of the planet, a big, ugly red red creature that had a serious dribbling problem, an orykhir is what the doctor called them. philange had been in the t.a.r.d.i.s, sat on his little perch on the console joyfully, clueless to the commotion happening outside, so he couldn't have helped them out of their little predicament then.

martha had managed to escape when both the doctor and callisto gave themselves up instead of the human, and she promised to come back. callisto knew martha would try and find her way back to the t.a.r.d.i.s so she had told her to bring phil back with her if she could find a way. she thought it might be a good idea for the doctor and herself to teach him how to pilot the t.a.r.d.i.s, but immediately shut down the thought when she remembered how much of an attitude the robotic hand could get, which would leave her, the doctor, and possibly martha stranded on another planet.

they'd checked the locks and they seemed unfathomable without phil or the screwdriver. they looked in the structure of the beds for any useful contraband and found nothing apart from a little drawing of a cat-like creature and a packet of an unknown sauce. they tried to move the brickwork to see if there had been a tunnel made by previous prisoners, but there was absolutely no secret escape route out of the cell and nothing that was small enough to pick the lock.

"would you stop, it's not going to budge." callisto grumbled, lying on the top bunk of the bunk beds in the cell. despite the room being horribly annoying, the bunk beds were a fun little thing for a prison cell.

the doctor, who had previously been shaking the bars on the small window of the door for at least 90 of the 267 minutes, huffed and leaned against the door, "where is she?"

"probably trying to avoid being horribly murdered." callisto replied, staring up at the ceiling.

"what about your knives—"

"too big for the lock. we tried 20 times." callisto interrupted. "we have tried all we could, we need the sonic or phil."

"phil." the doctor said, still salty from being flicked relentlessly. "what's the fantastic phil gonna do? play rock papers scissors?"

"i gave him some updates when i decided to reprogram him so he could understand spoken languages." callisto answered. "he's basically got a lock pick in his index finger."

"but i have the sonic for that!" the doctor whined as if the hand had seriously offended him.

"and how useful you're being with it today." callisto shot back sarcastically.

another silence filled the cell and that was probably the worst part of being locked up for so long. callisto didn't want to speak and the doctor didn't know what to say to make her forgive him. he had apologised immediately, but it only seemed to pissed her off more. it had been days and he missed her. the doctor walked up to the bunk beds and leant his chin on the side, bottom lip pouting naturally.

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