Blackpool

The Doctor conjures Blackpool as a seaside escape, transforming a mundane British resort into a sanctuary of salty tang and sun-bleached joy. Peri imagines piers jutting into the Irish Sea, their wooden planks worn smooth by holidaymakers’ footsteps, while deck chairs line the promenade like rows of patient sentinels. Pleasure arcades pulse with the mechanical laughter of slot machines, their neon signs flickering against the twilight sky in garish bursts of pink and blue. The tower—a skeletal iron sentinel—dominates the horizon, its shadow stretching across golden sands where families huddle under striped umbrellas. Fish and chip wrappers tumble down the beach, carried on gusts of sea wind that carry the briny bite of waves. Here, the Doctor’s promise of fun threads through the clamor, a fleeting oasis where Necros’ horrors can be scrubbed away by laughter and saltwater.