[ When the Doctor had asked the TARDIS where the swimming pool had gone, getting violently thrown out of her into the time vortex and surfacing (spluttering is more like it) in an actual sea, isn’t quite the punchline he had been expecting.
Later on when he comes to and most of the briny sea has been expunged from his lungs, he might find some humour in it before realising that this is decidedly not a joke. And even though the circumstances of his kidnapping are angry eyebrow inducing, and it’s concerning that he can’t find the TARDIS, his sonic screwdriver is no longer sonic, and that when he unfurls his psychic paper, he finds the equivalent of a sandbox between its pages that will probably take several millennia to be rid of, there’s a hum of energy about him at the mention of the beacon shifting. Shifting can only denote time, and is he really a Time Lord if he isn’t intrigued at the possibility of a time based mystery? It's as if a million piece puzzle has been dumped in front of him and he’s delighted that he can’t leave until it’s solved.
He has no intention of being used in a war. But he fully intends on sticking around long enough to understand what picture these pieces make.
…Or rather he would, were it not for the buckets on buckets of oysters he’s suddenly found himself surrounded with along with his absurd new job title. He’s muttering rather loudly to himself at the end of one of the piers, furiously shucking oysters. Their shells mostly miss the empty bucket, littering the pier and occasionally flying and pegging one of the fishermen below. Don’t get too close; you might get pegged in the head with a shell too. ]
Shucker? These undead lords are certainly using a Time Lord to the best of their abilities, aren’t they? No one even needs this many oysters. Certainly not undead lords.
— lost at sea
Later on when he comes to and most of the briny sea has been expunged from his lungs, he might find some humour in it before realising that this is decidedly not a joke. And even though the circumstances of his kidnapping are angry eyebrow inducing, and it’s concerning that he can’t find the TARDIS, his sonic screwdriver is no longer sonic, and that when he unfurls his psychic paper, he finds the equivalent of a sandbox between its pages that will probably take several millennia to be rid of, there’s a hum of energy about him at the mention of the beacon shifting. Shifting can only denote time, and is he really a Time Lord if he isn’t intrigued at the possibility of a time based mystery? It's as if a million piece puzzle has been dumped in front of him and he’s delighted that he can’t leave until it’s solved.
He has no intention of being used in a war. But he fully intends on sticking around long enough to understand what picture these pieces make.
…Or rather he would, were it not for the buckets on buckets of oysters he’s suddenly found himself surrounded with along with his absurd new job title. He’s muttering rather loudly to himself at the end of one of the piers, furiously shucking oysters. Their shells mostly miss the empty bucket, littering the pier and occasionally flying and pegging one of the fishermen below. Don’t get too close; you might get pegged in the head with a shell too. ]
Shucker? These undead lords are certainly using a Time Lord to the best of their abilities, aren’t they? No one even needs this many oysters. Certainly not undead lords.