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hexacontium. Thanks dude!
Professor Bernice Summerfield, drowning:
Warm in here. All floaty, too. No hurry, not going anywhere.
Where – what – where – what was I doing? Don't worry about it no hurry no hurry just float.
Settling down and down.
My mouth feels numb and I don't appear to have any hands.
Doctor, Doctor, the patient is sinking!
Am I upside down? If I kick, which way will I go?
I wonder what she is sinking about -
THERE'S SOMETHING IN HERE WITH ME
My feet are touching it! It's moving around!
Kick – I can feel that thing but I can't feel my legs – I don't think I'm moving I don't think I'm moving away from it -
Got me! It's got me! No, something else – something's got me! AAAAAAAAA GETOFF GETOFF GETOFF!
Cool air slaps Benny's face. She coughs with such force that one of her shoes comes off. A gentle but no-nonsense hand tips her chin back and hold her head there until she's got the hang of breathing again.
Honey, that's honey trickling off her face, not to mention out of her nose. She can smell the wet, half-formed flowery stuff. She's gone and fallen into a giant honeycomb cell, and someone's had to dive in to rescue her.
Good grief, is she right at this moment in the grip of a giant insect surf lifesaver?
'Fitz. Give me a hand here.'
Blind, drugged, and confused, Benny still recognises that voice. She gives a little squeak.
'I'm on it.' The skinny young man reaches down, and Benny grabs for his hands, only to find there's no strength in her own. He grabs her by the wrists, hauls her up out of the gloop, and drops her by the side of the cell, bent over, hands on knees, wheezing.
'Ahem,' says the Doctor, from the honey.
Fitz grunts, gets down on his hands and knees, and holds out a hand to the Doctor, who more or less has to climb over him to get out. Benny watches, lying curled on one side, more or less stuck to the floor. The Doctor sits cross-legged, his long hair ridiculously plastered to his head, surveying the damage. 'Another coat ruined. One of these days I'm going to run out. Fitz, this is Benny. Benny, meet Fitz.'
'Hi,' coughs the new boy.
'There are psychoactive chemicals in that honey, aren't there?' says Benny, stupidly. 'It feels like my eyes are pointing in two entirely different directions. I didn't mean to go for a swim, you know, I didn't step on the wax or anything that stupid, it's just that a drone appeared and I had to run for it - I'm blathering, aren't I? What are you doing here?'
'What are you doing here?' says the Doctor.
'Long story,' they both say, at the same moment, and grin at each other through the goo on their faces.
Fitz is peering over the edge of the cell, through the huge rips they've made in the waxy, at the enormous larva curled at the bottom. 'Euw,' he says, fumbling a crumpled packet of cigarettes out of his pocket.
The Doctor rolls his eyes. 'Oh, Fitz. Not in the brood chamber.'
hexacontium. Thanks dude!Professor Bernice Summerfield, drowning:
Warm in here. All floaty, too. No hurry, not going anywhere.
Where – what – where – what was I doing? Don't worry about it no hurry no hurry just float.
Settling down and down.
My mouth feels numb and I don't appear to have any hands.
Doctor, Doctor, the patient is sinking!
Am I upside down? If I kick, which way will I go?
I wonder what she is sinking about -
THERE'S SOMETHING IN HERE WITH ME
My feet are touching it! It's moving around!
Kick – I can feel that thing but I can't feel my legs – I don't think I'm moving I don't think I'm moving away from it -
Got me! It's got me! No, something else – something's got me! AAAAAAAAA GETOFF GETOFF GETOFF!
Cool air slaps Benny's face. She coughs with such force that one of her shoes comes off. A gentle but no-nonsense hand tips her chin back and hold her head there until she's got the hang of breathing again.
Honey, that's honey trickling off her face, not to mention out of her nose. She can smell the wet, half-formed flowery stuff. She's gone and fallen into a giant honeycomb cell, and someone's had to dive in to rescue her.
Good grief, is she right at this moment in the grip of a giant insect surf lifesaver?
'Fitz. Give me a hand here.'
Blind, drugged, and confused, Benny still recognises that voice. She gives a little squeak.
'I'm on it.' The skinny young man reaches down, and Benny grabs for his hands, only to find there's no strength in her own. He grabs her by the wrists, hauls her up out of the gloop, and drops her by the side of the cell, bent over, hands on knees, wheezing.
'Ahem,' says the Doctor, from the honey.
Fitz grunts, gets down on his hands and knees, and holds out a hand to the Doctor, who more or less has to climb over him to get out. Benny watches, lying curled on one side, more or less stuck to the floor. The Doctor sits cross-legged, his long hair ridiculously plastered to his head, surveying the damage. 'Another coat ruined. One of these days I'm going to run out. Fitz, this is Benny. Benny, meet Fitz.'
'Hi,' coughs the new boy.
'There are psychoactive chemicals in that honey, aren't there?' says Benny, stupidly. 'It feels like my eyes are pointing in two entirely different directions. I didn't mean to go for a swim, you know, I didn't step on the wax or anything that stupid, it's just that a drone appeared and I had to run for it - I'm blathering, aren't I? What are you doing here?'
'What are you doing here?' says the Doctor.
'Long story,' they both say, at the same moment, and grin at each other through the goo on their faces.
Fitz is peering over the edge of the cell, through the huge rips they've made in the waxy, at the enormous larva curled at the bottom. 'Euw,' he says, fumbling a crumpled packet of cigarettes out of his pocket.
The Doctor rolls his eyes. 'Oh, Fitz. Not in the brood chamber.'
