The storm rages on. Amy Titus sits back against the bars of his cell and just... watches. He disabled the sound dampeners in his cell the first week he arrived. It probably bothered his immediate neighbors... but Amy can't really seem to bring himself care all the much.
He twitches his fingers, trying to get some feeling back in them from their handcuffed position behind his back. But otherwise, he just sits. And listens to the storm.
"You want me to go swimming? I don't think I know how," he says to the TARDIS.
Amy hasn't eaten proper food since... a really long time. Stormcage served only bland porridge-like nutrients.
He steps into the room and smiles.
"I think I love you."
The TARDIS doesn't respond.
There are a lot of cakes in the pantry. There seems to be a food preservation effect. Nothing is sealed away.
The alcohol has its own corner. There's a decent selection, though nothing is particularly unusual or high quality. It's all things you could get in the average liquor store.
He takes a couple of bottles of tequila.. and pauses.
"I would just like to note that I have spent the last three years in the most secure and boring prison in the universe. I have missed everything."
He smiles down at his haul.
He looks around for the Master... was this the off limits workshop?
The tables are empty. There are no projects or material lying around. The space looks unused.
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