Red gold curls limp for lack of velvet splash from the quiet of the Pagoda’s hidden crèche room, and naked flesh stings itself on cold green jade as something like blood begins to pump again through disused muscles made of... what had the Master called it once? Ah yes. Glorified almond paste.
Breath comes lighter and lighter, and so, so soon the Eighth Doctor’s Flesh avatar crawls toward the small clothes cabinet sticking just off the wall to his left.
Grumbling, he roots through the leavings he’s left himself.
Double blinds used to be fun.
A black jacket and a grey jumper, but-
Ah wait, what is that at the bottom, stuffed under the empty crisps bag?
His beloved green coat.
He slips it on.
Only half naked now, he stumbles to the console and deactivates the white pyramid standing atop the column in the center of the console room, then taps a few buttons on a wall reader. The screen shows a blip on the map of the Citadel, somewhere near a storage area.