[And come inside, he shall. Physically? He looks to be a man around his mid-50s, but he has the spry energy of a house cat ready to knock down an entire Tupperware worth of kibble.
The entire lab itself is…dull if the Doctor is perfectly honest. Most seem to be (for a lack of a better term) gun-ho about readying their artillery before even landing on their next destination. Sure, there are the occasional samples from other creatures, but that’s enough for the Doctor to nap with his eyes opened.]
Nice little dump here, isn’t it? You have enough to hold you over for maybe an entire week. A week and a half if you really want to stretch it and put together a hydraulic ice cream dispenser.
[The Doctor leans in on one workstation and picks up a tool to play with. His usual grumpy demeanour is washed over by a crooked smirk and an air of bemusement.]
I’m already sobbing out of boredom just looking at this!
Yes, yes, it's all rather simple, I suppose, but there's quite a bit that needs tinkering and fixing, and creating.
[ And, most importantly, if he isn't occupying himself with some doodad or whatsit, he thinks he might actually go mad. One can only clean the kitchen counters and trim blades of grass in the sunlight room for so long before those activities simply become tedious and useless, and boring in a way that's different from the boredom currently agitating his not-27 brains.
He grabs a clean cloth and wipes at his nose, and then huffs a breath as he leans back in his seat behind his work desk, the one he often shares with Newt. ]
[He rests a hand on his hip. If the Doctor is totally honest, this is about the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Looking at his younger self being a helper around the lab. It reminds him of that time he once helped at a toy shop as a cover to investigate a group of Cybermen lurking within a department store.
And again, if the Doctor can be perfectly honest, he thinks he might’ve enjoyed playing race cars more than running headfirst into their base.]
I will have you know that I have been on my best behaviour. Adapting, even! Just like the rest of them. I eat, clean, touch grass, meditate, slip into the vents, eat some more, take a catnap, take some of the lab equipment and bring it into the broom closet — Very typical, boring activities to bide the time! But I would hardly say I’ve been into much trouble.
[ Yes! Yes, that was a lovely time, wasn't it? He even had a nametag and everything: The Doctor — Here to help. Because he was. For a long, long time they were there to help. Still is, he supposes; still are.
He watches his older self, still baffled that he could change so much and have really no say in the matter. Again. ]
Oh, well that's good. Last thing this place needs is one of us getting into trouble, eh? [ The Doctor can't quite maintain his cross expression; hasn't got the eyebrows for it, really. Instead he just looks like he's made a joke — mostly because he has.
Trouble and the Doctor come as a pair, it's inevitable no matter how much they try and avoid it. ] What do you mean you slip into the vents? What've the vents got that need slipping into? [ He fiddles with the rag between his hands then sets it down. ] Have you seen the unopenable door yet?
[Believe him. He tried. He tried a lot. The Doctor those sonic sunglasses to work.
He gnaws at the side of his thumb.]
And I may have used the term “vent crawling” as a term of art. It was more of me crawling along with the little robots on the floor to spot their travel patterns. [Another gnaw at his thumb before using it as a gesturing device.] The crawling part wasn’t necessary, but I’m not above doing a little robotic method acting.
[ The Doctor's about to burst out with, 'Now, why didn't I think of that?' but of course — he had. Has. In some way or form.
Oh, this is all twisty-topsy-turvy, isn't it? Not the first time he's had an adventure with himself, no, but still. It's worth marveling at how he's here, somehow, in a space station in an unnamed new galaxy having a conversation with a different, future regeneration of himself about vents. Vents! ]
[If we’re being completely honest, this isn’t off-beat for a typical conversation the Doctor has with himself. One minute he is making split calculations to an anti-gravity generator and then suddenly he has the urge to know how many dust bunnies are needed to fill out an entire room. Not all of his twenty-seven brains are being put to “good use”.
Although the look on the Doctor’s face looks like he is about to drop something amazing onto his younger predecessor.]
No! [A very wry chuckle escapes his lips for a beat as he shrugs.] There’s nothing! They have effectively done everything possible for anyone or anything past these doors not to come to the other side.
and the absolute free-fall of his expression at the Doctor's response. Which, you know, isn't actually all that much of a surprise, considering he'd done nearly everything to get that blasted door open too. Except the vents thing. Vents are a little next-level. ]
Well, we know there must be something worth hiding behind those doors, and every door that closes can be opened, somehow. [ Space doors without hinges are incredibly frustrating though. They should bring hinges back. ] What haven't we tried yet?
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🙏
The entire lab itself is…dull if the Doctor is perfectly honest. Most seem to be (for a lack of a better term) gun-ho about readying their artillery before even landing on their next destination. Sure, there are the occasional samples from other creatures, but that’s enough for the Doctor to nap with his eyes opened.]
Nice little dump here, isn’t it? You have enough to hold you over for maybe an entire week. A week and a half if you really want to stretch it and put together a hydraulic ice cream dispenser.
[The Doctor leans in on one workstation and picks up a tool to play with. His usual grumpy demeanour is washed over by a crooked smirk and an air of bemusement.]
I’m already sobbing out of boredom just looking at this!
no subject
[ And, most importantly, if he isn't occupying himself with some doodad or whatsit, he thinks he might actually go mad. One can only clean the kitchen counters and trim blades of grass in the sunlight room for so long before those activities simply become tedious and useless, and boring in a way that's different from the boredom currently agitating his not-27 brains.
He grabs a clean cloth and wipes at his nose, and then huffs a breath as he leans back in his seat behind his work desk, the one he often shares with Newt. ]
Where have you been causing trouble, then?
no subject
And again, if the Doctor can be perfectly honest, he thinks he might’ve enjoyed playing race cars more than running headfirst into their base.]
I will have you know that I have been on my best behaviour. Adapting, even! Just like the rest of them. I eat, clean, touch grass, meditate, slip into the vents, eat some more, take a catnap, take some of the lab equipment and bring it into the broom closet — Very typical, boring activities to bide the time! But I would hardly say I’ve been into much trouble.
no subject
He watches his older self, still baffled that he could change so much and have really no say in the matter. Again. ]
Oh, well that's good. Last thing this place needs is one of us getting into trouble, eh? [ The Doctor can't quite maintain his cross expression; hasn't got the eyebrows for it, really. Instead he just looks like he's made a joke — mostly because he has.
Trouble and the Doctor come as a pair, it's inevitable no matter how much they try and avoid it. ] What do you mean you slip into the vents? What've the vents got that need slipping into? [ He fiddles with the rag between his hands then sets it down. ] Have you seen the unopenable door yet?
no subject
[Believe him. He tried. He tried a lot. The Doctor those sonic sunglasses to work.
He gnaws at the side of his thumb.]
And I may have used the term “vent crawling” as a term of art. It was more of me crawling along with the little robots on the floor to spot their travel patterns. [Another gnaw at his thumb before using it as a gesturing device.] The crawling part wasn’t necessary, but I’m not above doing a little robotic method acting.
no subject
Oh, this is all twisty-topsy-turvy, isn't it? Not the first time he's had an adventure with himself, no, but still. It's worth marveling at how he's here, somehow, in a space station in an unnamed new galaxy having a conversation with a different, future regeneration of himself about vents. Vents! ]
And? Did you learn anything fascinating?
no subject
Although the look on the Doctor’s face looks like he is about to drop something amazing onto his younger predecessor.]
No! [A very wry chuckle escapes his lips for a beat as he shrugs.] There’s nothing! They have effectively done everything possible for anyone or anything past these doors not to come to the other side.
no subject
and the absolute free-fall of his expression at the Doctor's response. Which, you know, isn't actually all that much of a surprise, considering he'd done nearly everything to get that blasted door open too. Except the vents thing. Vents are a little next-level. ]
Well, we know there must be something worth hiding behind those doors, and every door that closes can be opened, somehow. [ Space doors without hinges are incredibly frustrating though. They should bring hinges back. ] What haven't we tried yet?