(no subject)

Victor has no idea what to expect when she's teleported to the Master's TARDIS, but she came prepared. Her backpack, stuffed with painkillers (alien and earth, prescription and over the counter) and bandages, and hairbrush, and gauze, and a miniature oxygen tank, and splints, and, yes, she is wearing pants. Plaid pajama pants, and a shirt that says, 'If you can read this, you're invading my personal space' in tiny font.

She's busy tying back her hair into a messy, matted ponytail when she's teleported on, no time to brush.

However, it is time to assess the situation.