Entry tags:
[ ximilia ] inbox.
// the.doctor
TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO
XIMILIA
TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO
( After that update from H'yawal, Bones starts making calls. )
Sorry this is sudden, Doctor, but I've got an update for you on those security measures. Once you and Clara are in Taeum, try to herd the Sedora to the healer's quarters-- H'yawal's reinforced the place with talismans, so it should be a safe haven for them.
( Have a ping, with a map to those quarters! )
Take care of yourselves.
Sorry this is sudden, Doctor, but I've got an update for you on those security measures. Once you and Clara are in Taeum, try to herd the Sedora to the healer's quarters-- H'yawal's reinforced the place with talismans, so it should be a safe haven for them.
( Have a ping, with a map to those quarters! )
Take care of yourselves.
[ Ooh, a ping! Brilliant. ]
Ah! Yes! Good, got it — thank you. We'll do just that.
Shouldn't be long, I hope. There are people here in Sedorum who still need our help and a little bit of convincing, but it'll be fine. They're scared. It's understandable.
Ah! Yes! Good, got it — thank you. We'll do just that.
Shouldn't be long, I hope. There are people here in Sedorum who still need our help and a little bit of convincing, but it'll be fine. They're scared. It's understandable.
[ once they're back at the station.... ]
You survive?
You survive?
[ the first sign that there is someone else in the lab is a single word. ]
Motherfucker!
[ the choice of language, one not approved or endorsed by the house of mouse, issues from one young woman seated at one of the long tables in the lab. at her elbow are several pages scribbled on front and back, even the margins doodled on. in front of her sits one of her web-shooters: a white cuff from which extends a flexible trigger that normally sits in her palm. neither pages or web-shooter are the recipients of her frustration. that particular honor goes to one of the cartridges tony had made for her.
she asked him how they worked. she forgot to ask how she was supposed to clean dried gunk out of the incredibly skinny things. ]
Why? [ continues the shakespearean tragedy unfolding at table 4. ] Why does this always happen to me?
Motherfucker!
[ the choice of language, one not approved or endorsed by the house of mouse, issues from one young woman seated at one of the long tables in the lab. at her elbow are several pages scribbled on front and back, even the margins doodled on. in front of her sits one of her web-shooters: a white cuff from which extends a flexible trigger that normally sits in her palm. neither pages or web-shooter are the recipients of her frustration. that particular honor goes to one of the cartridges tony had made for her.
she asked him how they worked. she forgot to ask how she was supposed to clean dried gunk out of the incredibly skinny things. ]
Why? [ continues the shakespearean tragedy unfolding at table 4. ] Why does this always happen to me?
Edited 2022-04-21 01:39 (UTC)
Ah. [ Yes. Expletives. He isn't unused to those, especially since he'd started traveling with this lot. ] I do find that kicking things sometimes helps. Better for you than punching, punching just hurts the fingers.
[ The Doctor looks up from his own personal project, some doodad or doohickey with various bits and bobs and an assortment of odds and ends beside him. He's wearing goggles as he works, which makes him look a bit owlish when he looks over in Gwen's direction.
He's seen her around, of course, you spend enough time outside of your room (and for the Doctor, that's almost all the time) and it's hard not to notice the other fifty-some odd crew members here and there. But they've never really spoken. ]
Is everything ... okay?
[ The Doctor looks up from his own personal project, some doodad or doohickey with various bits and bobs and an assortment of odds and ends beside him. He's wearing goggles as he works, which makes him look a bit owlish when he looks over in Gwen's direction.
He's seen her around, of course, you spend enough time outside of your room (and for the Doctor, that's almost all the time) and it's hard not to notice the other fifty-some odd crew members here and there. But they've never really spoken. ]
Is everything ... okay?
i have
and usually i would go so far as to say i ought to be first but
that is a crown you wear very well, clara
and so i'm happy to be second to you
i am not, however, happy to be tied with anyone
[ Though Jim is a fine bloke, of course.
Yes, yes, he's extremely competitive. It's a thing when you have an ego the size of a whole bloody planet. ]
and usually i would go so far as to say i ought to be first but
that is a crown you wear very well, clara
and so i'm happy to be second to you
i am not, however, happy to be tied with anyone
[ Though Jim is a fine bloke, of course.
Yes, yes, he's extremely competitive. It's a thing when you have an ego the size of a whole bloody planet. ]
[The days after they return from the mission are initially spent in recovery mode. He gets patched up in the infirmary, and she heads straight for a shower. She collapses into bed and probably sleeps for a day or two straight. She feels the weight shifting on the bed occasionally and figures he's checking in on her, but doesn't feel up to engaging in conversation just yet.
She withdraws from the station completely, uncertainty about who she can trust creating a dark cloud over her that doesn't show signs of going away quickly. So she sleeps instead of dealing with it or worrying about it, letting the excuse of healing sit on the tip of her tongue in case he questions her about it. Only the questions never come. There's food and tea left for her regularly on the bedside table, and she knows he's watching out for her.
Slowly but surely she gets up and moving, though she sticks to their room. It's in that time that she sees to taking care of him with his injured arm, letting him be a fussy baby because it gives her some kind of purpose. But eventually he needs to be up and moving, and doing his own thing. He can't stay in the room forever, even if she seems perfectly content to do so. He's worried about her, she knows, but she isn't ready to deal with the emotional fallout from what's happened on the mission. Not yet.
The things she does want to talk about though, she's worried he won't be ready to discuss. So she waits, trying to sort out her thoughts while she disengages with everything else.
They've been back for a couple of weeks before she ventures out of the room late one night. He's at the labs, and she's spent hours alone reading through a book she's already read ten times over. She goes to the simulation room and spends some time there preparing something. And when it's ready, she goes to get him. He isn't all that hard to convince to set his work aside and come with her, and she hurriedly leads him through the cold corridors to the simulation room.
The sight of the Tardis console room greets them, painstakingly recreated from Clara's memory. It's been a while since she's been inside the machine when it looked like this, but she doesn't think she's forgotten a single detail. She's been at work at it off and on for months now, and hopes he likes it.]
I thought it might be a good time for you to pay a visit home.
[It's not Gallifrey. But it's still home all the same. She knows how much he loves the Tardis. And while this is only a simulation and doesn't have any of the life the blue box normally has, she thinks it may be just the thing to cheer the both of them up.]
She withdraws from the station completely, uncertainty about who she can trust creating a dark cloud over her that doesn't show signs of going away quickly. So she sleeps instead of dealing with it or worrying about it, letting the excuse of healing sit on the tip of her tongue in case he questions her about it. Only the questions never come. There's food and tea left for her regularly on the bedside table, and she knows he's watching out for her.
Slowly but surely she gets up and moving, though she sticks to their room. It's in that time that she sees to taking care of him with his injured arm, letting him be a fussy baby because it gives her some kind of purpose. But eventually he needs to be up and moving, and doing his own thing. He can't stay in the room forever, even if she seems perfectly content to do so. He's worried about her, she knows, but she isn't ready to deal with the emotional fallout from what's happened on the mission. Not yet.
The things she does want to talk about though, she's worried he won't be ready to discuss. So she waits, trying to sort out her thoughts while she disengages with everything else.
They've been back for a couple of weeks before she ventures out of the room late one night. He's at the labs, and she's spent hours alone reading through a book she's already read ten times over. She goes to the simulation room and spends some time there preparing something. And when it's ready, she goes to get him. He isn't all that hard to convince to set his work aside and come with her, and she hurriedly leads him through the cold corridors to the simulation room.
The sight of the Tardis console room greets them, painstakingly recreated from Clara's memory. It's been a while since she's been inside the machine when it looked like this, but she doesn't think she's forgotten a single detail. She's been at work at it off and on for months now, and hopes he likes it.]
I thought it might be a good time for you to pay a visit home.
[It's not Gallifrey. But it's still home all the same. She knows how much he loves the Tardis. And while this is only a simulation and doesn't have any of the life the blue box normally has, she thinks it may be just the thing to cheer the both of them up.]
[ He has, admittedly, been worrying more than usual about Clara. She's withdrawn into herself far more than he's ever seen her, even on her very worst days. He can take a rather obvious guess as to the whys; and he understands that. You don't live for as long as you do and not notice, not know. The human heart is a resilient thing, and even at its most fragile, it will always find a way through. It might take a bit of time, but it will persevere. Clara's is too big, too strong, to give up. He knows that much.
But the Doctor does what he does best — he helps when he can, and in between fussing over his own slowly-recovering injuries, he checks in on her as often as she allows him. He goes along with the motions, and really, he makes for a really rather horrible patient himself anyway, the scratchiness of the wound in his arm making him more irritable and child-like than usual. His own hovering over Clara grows less and less until it feels like things might return to a sort of 'normal' — and then, one night, Clara pulls him into the simulation room with a 'surprise'.
The Doctor is silent for almost too long when they arrive, stepping through the doors and being greeted with blinking lights and a time rotor and buttons and levers that feel so familiar, his fingers almost twitch with want to touch them all. It's all enough perhaps to make Clara worry that her idea was the wrong one.
But if she were to look into his expression, she'd notice the wonder and the yearning and the sadness and the joy swirling in the Doctor's face all at once, eyes almost a little glassy with the emotion.
She's really managed to render him quite speechless. ]
But the Doctor does what he does best — he helps when he can, and in between fussing over his own slowly-recovering injuries, he checks in on her as often as she allows him. He goes along with the motions, and really, he makes for a really rather horrible patient himself anyway, the scratchiness of the wound in his arm making him more irritable and child-like than usual. His own hovering over Clara grows less and less until it feels like things might return to a sort of 'normal' — and then, one night, Clara pulls him into the simulation room with a 'surprise'.
The Doctor is silent for almost too long when they arrive, stepping through the doors and being greeted with blinking lights and a time rotor and buttons and levers that feel so familiar, his fingers almost twitch with want to touch them all. It's all enough perhaps to make Clara worry that her idea was the wrong one.
But if she were to look into his expression, she'd notice the wonder and the yearning and the sadness and the joy swirling in the Doctor's face all at once, eyes almost a little glassy with the emotion.
She's really managed to render him quite speechless. ]
[ She's waiting for him when he's released from the infirmary (or has he escaped?). Never mind. It doesn't matter. She's waiting. Has she been waiting all the time they've managed to keep him? Of course not. That would mean she's been worried, and she's never that. The Doctor's fine. He's always fine, just as she is, so she's no need to worry.
Her eyes scan him carefully, trying to mask it with her usual flirtatious grin. Satisfied, she releases a soft breath she hadn't realized she'd held. ]
Only a little worse for wear.
Her eyes scan him carefully, trying to mask it with her usual flirtatious grin. Satisfied, she releases a soft breath she hadn't realized she'd held. ]
Only a little worse for wear.
[ The Doctor is rolling his shoulders — testing the strength of the bandages, and perhaps the severity of his wound — when he emerges from the infirmary. He winces at the pain that shoots up the length of his arm, pinching at the place between his shoulder and said arm, and doesn't quite notice River until she speaks up.
At least he has the grace not to jump. ]
River.
[ His expression brightens, partially to hide any moment of weakness, and also because he genuinely is happy to see her. ]
Ah. Yes, just a scratch.
[ He's fine, because he's always fine. ]
Didn't see you when we all got back here from Vrefesea Station.
At least he has the grace not to jump. ]
River.
[ His expression brightens, partially to hide any moment of weakness, and also because he genuinely is happy to see her. ]
Ah. Yes, just a scratch.
[ He's fine, because he's always fine. ]
Didn't see you when we all got back here from Vrefesea Station.
I'm afraid for the calendar. Its days are numbered.
Have you washed your knickers today? Remember to use soap and not your pot of sugar.
[ after she gets her own self sorted out — fortunately, this time, she's only left with a few scrapes and bruises — she makes her usual rounds within the infirmary to help where she can. there are a few faces she recognizes, some she's still getting to learn, but after a day or two she frees herself up to personally root out a few faces she knows need checking up on.
after all, given who stood at the center of the mess... well. ]
Doctor? [ her knock starts out gentle on his door, but if not answered right away will get a bit more insistent. ] Are you in?
after all, given who stood at the center of the mess... well. ]
Doctor? [ her knock starts out gentle on his door, but if not answered right away will get a bit more insistent. ] Are you in?
Edited 2022-06-09 15:06 (UTC)
[ He has been working through one of the books that Kakashi had left for him, each chapter just a little more saucier than the last, and all of it very perplexing. He had no idea humans were so capable of — of that.
At the sound of Marta's voice from the other side of the door, the Doctor quite literally chucks the book across the room where it winds up getting caught behind the desk, sliding its way to the floor underneath the desk's chair. ]
Yes! Hello! I'm in, I'm in — a bit tied up to this bed, but I'm here. I don't suppose I can't just leave now, can I?
[ Says the alien fool still injured, still obviously injured, and wincing even as he tries to push himself up on his little mountain of pillows. ]
At the sound of Marta's voice from the other side of the door, the Doctor quite literally chucks the book across the room where it winds up getting caught behind the desk, sliding its way to the floor underneath the desk's chair. ]
Yes! Hello! I'm in, I'm in — a bit tied up to this bed, but I'm here. I don't suppose I can't just leave now, can I?
[ Says the alien fool still injured, still obviously injured, and wincing even as he tries to push himself up on his little mountain of pillows. ]
[ Whether the younger Doctor has trotted off for a quick lunch or a department meeting, he will find that his work area is now occupied by a very familiar face.
There, seated on top of The Doctor’s desk, is the older time lord doing something has hardly ever heard done before: laughing out loud. His expression doesn’t quite match his more formal attire, looking more like a silly magician having a tea break. He's laughing with a couple of individuals who the younger Doctor might recognize to be co-workers. ]
You should’ve seen him when he was in his nappies. Such a tiny little thing. About the size of his favourite Binky Bear that he still likes to cuddle. Has he ever told you the time when he got his foot stuck inside the toilet?
[ Next to The Doctor is a small blue leather bag resting on top of his supposed child’s desk. What’s inside? Who knows! ]
Thought that there was a monster inside waiting to munch people up when they least expect it. Such a clever and brave child, but not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box.
There, seated on top of The Doctor’s desk, is the older time lord doing something has hardly ever heard done before: laughing out loud. His expression doesn’t quite match his more formal attire, looking more like a silly magician having a tea break. He's laughing with a couple of individuals who the younger Doctor might recognize to be co-workers. ]
You should’ve seen him when he was in his nappies. Such a tiny little thing. About the size of his favourite Binky Bear that he still likes to cuddle. Has he ever told you the time when he got his foot stuck inside the toilet?
[ Next to The Doctor is a small blue leather bag resting on top of his supposed child’s desk. What’s inside? Who knows! ]
Thought that there was a monster inside waiting to munch people up when they least expect it. Such a clever and brave child, but not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box.
Doc— ah. Dad —
[ The experience of having a very dad-like dad is a new one, that's for sure. And come to think of it, he's certain now that he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it in the same way he didn't like the idea of having an aunt.
His workmates have surrounded themselves around his older self, his 'father', and are laughing at the embarrassing tales that he's gone and made up which are very uncool, and before the Doctor (this one) can keep from saying anything, he blurts out a petulant: ] Oy! That's not even true!
[ He steps into the fray and tugs at the other Doctor's arm, pulling him out from the spotlight to a few jeers and cheers and 'awws'. ]
Did we arrange a meeting? [ He's straight up gone and forgotten his cover for a moment, or maybe he's method-acting more than ever as some fleshy, over-emotional humany son. ] What are you doing here?
[ The experience of having a very dad-like dad is a new one, that's for sure. And come to think of it, he's certain now that he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it in the same way he didn't like the idea of having an aunt.
His workmates have surrounded themselves around his older self, his 'father', and are laughing at the embarrassing tales that he's gone and made up which are very uncool, and before the Doctor (this one) can keep from saying anything, he blurts out a petulant: ] Oy! That's not even true!
[ He steps into the fray and tugs at the other Doctor's arm, pulling him out from the spotlight to a few jeers and cheers and 'awws'. ]
Did we arrange a meeting? [ He's straight up gone and forgotten his cover for a moment, or maybe he's method-acting more than ever as some fleshy, over-emotional humany son. ] What are you doing here?
What are you wearing?
[ He's messing around but why not. ]
[ He's messing around but why not. ]
[after seeing this]
Doctor! Please tell me you aren't going to steal a robot body we don't know anything about.
Doctor! Please tell me you aren't going to steal a robot body we don't know anything about.
[ huaisang, perhaps unlike many others in the team, is largely — well, not unbothered by the way the mission went, as he thinks everyone was rightly stupid for not just getting the orb and returning to the station immediately... but he's content to ignore people, stay out of debates or discussions of what happened with a smile and a sheepish sorry, I really don't know, I wasn't really involved.
so back on the station, he gets to what he's been doing all the previous weeks there — painting, collecting poetry, drinking tea.
it is the last of those he is engaged in, finished boiling a perfect pot of some anji baicha, as he spots the doctor eating... hm, actually, he doesn't really want to know just what he's eating.
he skips closer. ]
Ah, afternoon! What a lucky chance, seeing you here. You may remember the story of the glowing broth you told me... back then I was warned, you see, to not get you telling stories, but I love stories. Would you have another one for this humble man?
so back on the station, he gets to what he's been doing all the previous weeks there — painting, collecting poetry, drinking tea.
it is the last of those he is engaged in, finished boiling a perfect pot of some anji baicha, as he spots the doctor eating... hm, actually, he doesn't really want to know just what he's eating.
he skips closer. ]
Ah, afternoon! What a lucky chance, seeing you here. You may remember the story of the glowing broth you told me... back then I was warned, you see, to not get you telling stories, but I love stories. Would you have another one for this humble man?
[ The Doctor is, in fact, enjoying a plate of 'alien-ingredients spaghetti bolognese' — a late lunch after working a little bit past the hour in the labs. The noodles themselves are an odd sort of green colour, but the sauce at least appears to be the same ... deep red and very tomato-y. It certainly might not look appetizing to all, but it smells good at least.
He looks up when Huaisang approaches and waves him over with an enthusiastic 'Mm!', mouth full, offering the empty seat across from him while he works on his noodles and swallows. ]
Oh, well — you should do well to ignore any and all warnings some might give you regarding stories. [ Especially the ones he tells, because they are a hoot. ] Who doesn't love stories, eh? I'd be happy to tell you some, if you'd like. You only have to tell me what you're interested in hearing about.
He looks up when Huaisang approaches and waves him over with an enthusiastic 'Mm!', mouth full, offering the empty seat across from him while he works on his noodles and swallows. ]
Oh, well — you should do well to ignore any and all warnings some might give you regarding stories. [ Especially the ones he tells, because they are a hoot. ] Who doesn't love stories, eh? I'd be happy to tell you some, if you'd like. You only have to tell me what you're interested in hearing about.
action; sometime in the night! | as u wished, m'timelord
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groupiedrifter
2022-07-23 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
[There's an urgent knocking on The Doctor's door, at what some would consider to be an unreasonable time of the night. But see, there's no actual night here, right? So obviously this is less of an oddity than it'd usually be. No, what's more odd is the scared-looking scientist in sleep clothes on the other side of the door. His hair implies he's woken up from a dead sleep and immediately made a beeline for The Doctor's very door. Paranoid eyes shift sharply in the man's head as he reaches out to grab the time lord's arm, but he seems to be trying not to lunge into complete hysteria, voice urgent but clipped — hushed.]
Doc! Doc, please, I — you gotta use your sonic, okay? Your sonic screwdriver; I need you to check my head and tell me there's nobody here but me. Please, I just — I swear, I thought I could hear them, I thought maybe I was dreaming and forgot again, and I can't —
I need to know they're still gone.
Doc! Doc, please, I — you gotta use your sonic, okay? Your sonic screwdriver; I need you to check my head and tell me there's nobody here but me. Please, I just — I swear, I thought I could hear them, I thought maybe I was dreaming and forgot again, and I can't —
I need to know they're still gone.
— what? What is it?
[ The door opens and the Doctor, still dressed in his regular jacket and bowtie (he doesn't sleep much) looks at his friend, perplexed. (And admittedly, a little fearful too, the sudden uptick in his heartsbeat a noticeable thing.) ]
Yes, of course. Of course, come in. [ He squeezes Newt's shoulder reassuringly, and then steps aside, giving the other man the freedom to get comfortable wherever he'd like. And truthfully, the Doctor is still trying to get his thoughts in order, remembering that initial fearful look in Newt's face and the way he'd shown up at his door in such a panic, to — ah. Yes. Right. His sonic, he'll need that.
Of course the Doctor doesn't think he'll find anything. They'd done a check for the precursors the moment they'd cleared Newt's mind, and then again for good measure, and then he's quite certain Viveca and the Commander did the same as well. They all wanted to be sure. And they were — they were sure.
They are sure.
Still, weirder things have happened, and the Doctor won't ignore Newt's request if he asks him of it. ] We'll sort you right out, eh?
[ The door opens and the Doctor, still dressed in his regular jacket and bowtie (he doesn't sleep much) looks at his friend, perplexed. (And admittedly, a little fearful too, the sudden uptick in his heartsbeat a noticeable thing.) ]
Yes, of course. Of course, come in. [ He squeezes Newt's shoulder reassuringly, and then steps aside, giving the other man the freedom to get comfortable wherever he'd like. And truthfully, the Doctor is still trying to get his thoughts in order, remembering that initial fearful look in Newt's face and the way he'd shown up at his door in such a panic, to — ah. Yes. Right. His sonic, he'll need that.
Of course the Doctor doesn't think he'll find anything. They'd done a check for the precursors the moment they'd cleared Newt's mind, and then again for good measure, and then he's quite certain Viveca and the Commander did the same as well. They all wanted to be sure. And they were — they were sure.
They are sure.
Still, weirder things have happened, and the Doctor won't ignore Newt's request if he asks him of it. ] We'll sort you right out, eh?
COVERS THIS TIMESTAMP OVER TOO lordt (also ignore if you're lit over it)
lateness
- 2022-09-26 04:27 (UTC) - Expand[ one morning on the station, on each orber's door, the following hand-written note (in fancy calligraphy) will be taped:
the orber can choose to attend or simply listen in to the meeting when it occurs, or they may ignore it altogether. ]
the orber can choose to attend or simply listen in to the meeting when it occurs, or they may ignore it altogether. ]
[ yet another flyer ends up on every orber's door, evidently by the same culprit as last time, except now it's a more colorful display:
the back of the flyer features more details about the play and its characters, and soon enough, an announcement from rita herself goes public, giving more context about the event, which all can sign up for. ]
the back of the flyer features more details about the play and its characters, and soon enough, an announcement from rita herself goes public, giving more context about the event, which all can sign up for. ]
[ Some nights are restless. And with how light Bucky's own sleep is, how rare that he gets a good night either way, whenever nights like this hit Sam, he extracts himself from their bed and busies himself elsewhere on the station. It's not a rare occurrence for either of them, truth be told - being veterans is enough on its own to make sleep a struggle, but heap on their various other respective traumas and nights become... something else entirely to manage.
So this night, Sam finds himself strolling towards the kitchen in need of caffeine, contemplates hitting the training room or maybe the lab after. maybe do inventory in the infirmary just to keep his mind busy.
And instead he finds... well.
Sam blinks slowly at the Doctor, trying to take in what's happening here. ]
... the hell?
So this night, Sam finds himself strolling towards the kitchen in need of caffeine, contemplates hitting the training room or maybe the lab after. maybe do inventory in the infirmary just to keep his mind busy.
And instead he finds... well.
Sam blinks slowly at the Doctor, trying to take in what's happening here. ]
... the hell?
[ Ah. Yes.
Well.
You see, there's this very British thing that very British people do when it comes to comfort and consoling one's melancholic temperament, and that is: making tea. The making of said tea probably comes with the drinking of said tea to complete the whole comfort cycle, but the Doctor has found that it's the act of putting on the kettle and pouring the hot water to steep those fine-smelling leaves that serves as the comforting bit. And so Sam will find himself walking in on what appears to be the Doctor having prepared enough mugs of tea to comfort an entire small British village.
In fact, he's certain he's about to run out of mugs. ]
Oh! Yes, hello. Help yourself to tea if you'd like. I think I've made ... a fair amount of it.
Well.
You see, there's this very British thing that very British people do when it comes to comfort and consoling one's melancholic temperament, and that is: making tea. The making of said tea probably comes with the drinking of said tea to complete the whole comfort cycle, but the Doctor has found that it's the act of putting on the kettle and pouring the hot water to steep those fine-smelling leaves that serves as the comforting bit. And so Sam will find himself walking in on what appears to be the Doctor having prepared enough mugs of tea to comfort an entire small British village.
In fact, he's certain he's about to run out of mugs. ]
Oh! Yes, hello. Help yourself to tea if you'd like. I think I've made ... a fair amount of it.
[ It's quiet on the station, and someone stands outside the Doctor's door. Hovers for a while, until there's a soft tap-tap-tap of a knock. Eleven bites her lip. This isn't a thing she's naturally good at, but she's trying. Waits to be let in instead of using her powers to barge in. Manners, for once. ]
[ There's the sound of banging, crashing, a shatter, and something bouncing off of a wall or some sort of flat, hard surface. It sounds as though there's a whole chaotic storm happening behind the closed door, and after a moment, after Eleven knocks on that door, the commotion halts.
It's quiet.
And then, the doors slide open and a slightly ruffled Doctor pokes his head through, glancing in Eleven's direction in confusion. It really only lasts for a breath of a moment before his expression brightens significantly. ]
Oh! Hello! D'you need something?
[ A hand? An ear? Maybe one of the many knick-knacks he's currently got hanging out somewhere on his side of the room?
And the room does, somehow, look larger than it might have used to. When he steps aside to let her in (if she'd like), she might notice that two of the beds here are empty now. The Doctor has slowly migrated more of his belongings onto the other side; they take over like an ooze of fabric and colour and mess. Marie Kondo would have an absolute fit. ]
It's quiet.
And then, the doors slide open and a slightly ruffled Doctor pokes his head through, glancing in Eleven's direction in confusion. It really only lasts for a breath of a moment before his expression brightens significantly. ]
Oh! Hello! D'you need something?
[ A hand? An ear? Maybe one of the many knick-knacks he's currently got hanging out somewhere on his side of the room?
And the room does, somehow, look larger than it might have used to. When he steps aside to let her in (if she'd like), she might notice that two of the beds here are empty now. The Doctor has slowly migrated more of his belongings onto the other side; they take over like an ooze of fabric and colour and mess. Marie Kondo would have an absolute fit. ]
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