a. [ The Doctor bolts upright before she's even processed which way, precisely, is up, and the toe of her boot immediately catches on some poor slumbering soul's leg, sending her crashing back to her hands and knees with an undignified yelp. ]

Ow. Sorry, sorry, I'm just...

[ She trails off, confused. The body she'd tripped over remains unresponsive. Not even a twitch when she gives them a good shake. She checks their pulse and breathing: still alive, just unconscious, and it looks like they're far from the only sleeping beauty around.

Honestly, they all probably have the right idea.

Blaring sirens, stasis pods, memories of a Storm...

Her head spinning and kneecaps smarting and eyes squinted against the flashing lights, she's scrambling determinedly back to her feet. Move. She needs to move. Find her friends, find her box, find out what the hell is going on.

As she stumbles onward, though, she stops to lend a hand to anyone who looks like they could use it along the way. It's all she can do, right now. ]

b. [ Eventually, the Doctor finds her way into the Observation Room. Best place to orient oneself in space and time, she reckons. And she needs only a stunned second to observe the glitching holograms before muttering, ] Oh, that's not good...

Don't like this bit.

[ The woman tied up in the cell with you jangles her chains, squirming restlessly like a kid in time out. She seems put out, but nowhere near a panic. This is, after all, nothing new.

The screams of an erstwhile cellmate echo off the stone walls. ]

Not to worry. [ She turns her head towards you, flashing a hopefully-comforting smile, ] I'll get us out of here. Just give me a mo'.

[ And then she starts twisting round and contorting herself, pulling against her chains this way and that, while nothing happens.

Trust her. She's a professional. ]

[ Red vines aren't exactly novel— travel the universe as long as she has, and you're bound to encounter plant life of every size and shape and hue— but she can still appreciate an attractive bit of foliage when she sees it.

Vanishing red vines, though, are new. The Doctor gasps with delight when the vein-like webbing disappears before her eyes, and almost misses the sensation of something snaking, thin and tight, around her ankle. Only when movement suddenly becomes painful, the sharp ache seemingly tugging at something deep inside her, harder and harder with each step, does it become clear that it was more than a pretty plant with a neat parlor trick.

Should've guessed, really.

Boots crunching through snow and ice, she turns round to follow the pull, more curious than cautious. But still cautious. ]

Where are you taking me? Points for creativity so far, but I'm docking all of them if you're just a great big people-eating pitcher. That'd be so disappointing.

[ Calling up ahead, just in case, ] Hel-lo? Anyone there?

[ Come at me, bro. ]