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Welcome To The Opera

(My Thread)

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Time Crash (Locked to songofsong)

The Doctor stormed into the TARDIS, making certain that the doors slammed shut behind him. That pompous, stuck up Brigadier and his stupid Geneva! As if he cared enough to throw himself about just for them. Didn't they realise he had better things to do?! He was a Time Lord after all. The nerve-!

He angrily flicked switches, pulled at the levers and set the TARDIS in motion, moodily glaring at the column as it rose and fell in a moderate rhythm. The TARDIS often soothed him after his quarrels and seemed to be doing as much now but there was a weight he couldn't throw from his shoulders. At first the Doctor merely assumed it was the orders he had been issued (his troublesome consciousness often made him comply to some respect in the end - he was too soft hearted after all) but the cloister bell told him otherwise.

It rung out loud, reverberating throughout the TARDIS and into his very core. He ran around the console panel checking each of the dials and screens, taking up the readings and gathering information. He made calculations, adding numbers and letters together to come to some kind of conclusion....

"That can't be right!"
"That," lectured the Doctor, "would be the number of positive irons in the atmosphere. We're being attacked at this very moment by an un-countable number of them. And they'll be even more of them in years to come."

He sat down upon the squishy ground, feeling himself sink a little. "Of course, the Eye of Orion has only been forming for only a few hundred thousand years. Things become more solid as they go further in their formation." He smiled as he closed his eyes and turned his face toward the setting sun. There was very little heat radiating from it, which suited the Doctor fine but he was just too at peace to leave his eyes open. For the moment, anyway.
The Doctor sighed into his Pyridian conductor. For some terribly odd reason, it just wouldn't work. Maybe the UNIT labs were too humid for Pyridian technology? It certainly wasn't a lacking of the Doctor's skills, he was certain of that.

He tossed the soldering tool to the side and stood up, rubbing his tired face. Perhaps a change in project would help. As he turned to dive into a pile of alien technology, he caught a sight out the window. Sergent Benton drilling new recruits. The Doctor grinned and chuckled to himself, thankful that it was the Sergent and not him.

One of the other tables in the lab was filled with a jumble of alien doo-dads and thinga-ma-bobs. He poked and prodded at them, sifting through with his finger until he came to something worth his time. A small capsule looking thing with crab-like legs and an antennea. The Doctor wanted to fix it up so as the Brigadier would have a 'helping hand' in his office.

With the selected piece in hand, the Doctor flopped back onto his stool, pushing the original project out of the way. He picked up a tune as he handled a small screw driver and began pulling the mechanic beastie apart.
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Hello, you've reached The Doctor. Unfortunately I'm out saving someone from something or other but please feel free to leave a message. I shall endeavour to get back to you as soon as I can.


*beep*

Ten ways I like to relax

1) Tinking with something relatively easy such as a circuit board or a small, simple robot.

2) A glass of scotch or brandy and somewhere to put my feet up - got that habit from the Brigadier.

3) Some nice piano music.

4) Reading a book in a spot of sun - usually something by HG Well or Louis Carroll.

5) Going for a pint with Benton or Yates.

6) A quiet corner, away from UNIT where I can shut my eyes for a few moments.

7) Being anywhere inside the TARDIS. Or within range of the TARDIS, for that matter.

8) Knowing that the Earth is safe because I have just chased out its most recent threat.

9) Drifting through the space vortex with said glass of bourbon or scotch.

10) Singing to myself - a habit I picked up from my previous regeneration. I should probably thank him for that.

Inspired by thetenspot</fontsize>

TruBlood (open to consultmybooks)

With a fresh cup of tea in hand, the Doctor wandered back into the Academy lab singing some sort of Venusian song under his breath. Now that the students were back in their dorms for the rest of the evening (hopefully), the teachers had gone home or retired to their own sleeping quarters, he could make more of an attempt at getting work done. Uninterrupted.

He seated himself at a bench and got to work for this up and coming mission he was supposed to be going on with Jack. Heaven knows what they may encounter while within this enemy base. He fiddled with wires and circuits and buttons and things, still singing to himself, happy and content.

In the distance, he could hear footsteps appraoching. He stopped and listened for a moment but when they didn't have that familiar military click that only the Brigadier has, he went back to his work, taking up his Venusian warbling once again.

meeeeeemme

So, I have this meme where you make me write fanfiction. It's always open because I like the challenge. You can find it here.

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Alitair Lethbridge-Stewart is not known for his patience.

He waits for the Doctor, swagger stick tapping his side in growing irritation. He tries to re-read notes and understand the Doctor's tinkerings but it's all Greek to him. So he crosses to a window and looks out at nothing in particular.

He'd been waiting for over twenty minutes for the Doctor to come back from inside his TARDIS contraption, which sits in the corner of the room. He turns from the window to look at it again, as if some detail may have changed or it may have dissappeared again since he last looked at it less than a minute ago.

With a great deal of hesitation he attempts to hide under his hard exterior, the Brigadier approaches the TARDIS. Standing outside, he looks it over, all the while holding a cautious expression like the box might suddenly grow jaws and swallow him whole. He takes a few steps back, casually inspecting the bunches of wires and gizmos layed out on the bench.

He turns back to the TARDIS, yet again and, with a huff, pushes open one of the doors and strides through. At the consul, the Doctor is in a heated argument with Jack Harkness, the Torchwood Captain. Alistair stands at the entrance, quite shocked for a couple of reasons. The first being his usual concern about so much space in such a small box and the second being that he was unaware the Captain was on board.

The Brigadier swallows the uncomfortable feelings and is about to intercept when Jack steps back and knocks something on the consul. The TARDIS shudders and the Brigadier hears the door shut behind him. He dashes back the few feet to the door and, try as he might to open them again, he discovers them locked. He turns to try and growl an explanation out of the Doctor but can see he is distracted by the TARDIS. As usual. Not that that was going to stop the Brigadier.

After straightening his uniform, he strides to the centre of the room with a strong look of determination and agitation, "just what is going on here?!"

2020 (open to harknesstravels)

[The Doctor leans with one hand on the control panal, rubbing his chin with the other.]

Hmm. How very odd.