It's party tiiime!

[smithnjones]

[OOC: Okay, another party thread. :) Comment your characters in or have your characters respond to other characters' comments within. Uh, anyone who got invited can be here. And there's a huge list of invites. Well, not huge, but substantial. Like anyone she's ever had a decent conversation with. So come. Plz

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[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor's attitude toward and opinion on parties varies depending on his mood, the party itself, and possibly the phase of the moon. This party... he's not sure how he feels about it, but he's pretty much required to be here for a little while, so... here he is.

He's in the kitchen, actually, sitting at the table and... well, he hopes Martha wasn't planning on using this microwave any time soon. Let's just say he's repurposing it. If anyone wants to wander in and say hello, he won't mind. He's just in here so he can pretend he's not actually here for the party. Nor does he live here. Just happens to be here. As usual.

[nothingsodivine]

And Des is finished mingling for awhile- or maybe he just needed ice or something. Either way, he wanders into the kitchen, takes one look at the Doctor, and sort of leans on the doorframe, watching him for a second.

"Is this a private party or can I join?" He says with a chuckle, mildly sarcastic. He's not rip-roarin' drunk and won't be for awhile. He did, in fact, need to talk to the Doctor (especially since he's well aware he was more than a little assholeish the last time they saw each other), and thus he needed to remain sober for it.

...Or mostly sober anyway. You can't deny the wonders of Dinah's mixed drinks. At least he still has all cognitive functions working in his favor. Always a plus.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor glances up as Des speaks, looking up over the tops of his glasses, and he smiles a little. It's not his full-fledged real smile, but a pretty good imitation of it. "It's your house," he says with a shrug. Apparently the fact that it's Des' house doesn't preclude the Doctor keeping his cat thing here, or taking apart his microwave and reassembling it in ways that mean it may never function as a microwave again. That's just the sort of thing you put up with when you have the Doctor in your life.

[nothingsodivine]

"It is my house," he says, a bit too gleefully. Des never really had a desire to be domestic, but he never had anything against it either, and this house makes every shitty apartment over his office he's ever had pale in comparison. There's just something... Quaint about having a house, but, as has often been established, Des is a girl sometimes.

He ventures over to the fridge and tries to remember if there was actually something he needed from the kitchen or if he just gravitated towards the kitchen for some reason. He glances over his shoulder when staring at the fridge fails to give him the proper results and really notes the fact that the Doctor is poking at the microwave.

"What did that poor microwave ever do to you?" Yes, Des is just going to be adorably sarcastic until he remembers that there were things and he needed to say them. "Or was it just conveinent? How's your hand, by the way?" The last bit is added as an afterthought (a completely random, non-sequitor of an afterthought) as if he just now remembered that was part

[thatsortofaman]

"I don't have anything against the microwave," he says cheerfully. "This microwave just happens to be useful, and I'll get you a new one. In the mean time, it's for a good cause and... you've still got a toaster."

He pauses a moment to adjust something with the sonic screwdriver, and then glances up at Des again. "Were you... looking for something?" Des is looking a little lost, as far as the Doctor can tell.

[nothingsodivine]

"You'll go shopping for a microwave or you'll make one magically appear?" He doesn't mean to tease you about your lack of domesticity, Doctor. He chuckles at the toaster bit and then adds, "I'll remember that when I set the house on fire trying to cook a hot pocket in the toaster. Should I ask what the good cause is for?"

He frowns at the fridge. "I have no idea. Either I'm more drunk than I realized or it wasn't important." He shrugs and abandons the fridge, taking to leaning on the counter and watching the Doctor work for a bit. "Your Time Lord frenemy didn't send the dog by with anymore nasty surprises, did she?

And he's slowly remembering that he was kind of a jackass before and never really apologized for that. Normally he wouldn't, because that's how he acts and most people who know him have a thick skin when it comes to his mouth, but, well, the Doctor really hasn't been in the best of moods lately. Best to make sure all's quiet on the western front in that regards. Not that he knows about Three Mile Island or anything

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor pauses momentarily. He hadn't thought about that. Microwave shopping is a bit... hmm. Well, he'll find a way to work around it. "It's a Torchwood thing. And they haven't got a microwave where they're staying." The Kashtta's still in the process of being furnished with... the basic requirements of living.

He shakes his head at the question about the Rani. "Nah. That was just a... temporary punishment anyway, and as I haven't done anything to upset her since then..." He should be fine.

[nothingsodivine]

He brushes him off as soon as he sees that pause. "Don't worry about it," he says, meaning the microwave, obviously, and then pauses briefly at the mention of Torchwood. "At least they're not living in a warehouse or something. Not having a microwave would be the least of their worries then." Des doesn't actually know that was briefly an option, he's just being unintentionally ironic.

He shrugs, a bit relieved by that. "Good. I'd be wary of that dog showing up unexpectedly, but it's so damn cute. Maybe that's the point. She is so not a nice lady, is she?"

That's one way to describe the Rani, Des. Sure.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor raises an eyebrow at the mention of Torchwood staying in a warehouse, in a what would they be doing that for? sort of way. "I wouldn't blame the dog. The Rani is... brilliant, dedicated, and a number of other things generally considered good, but nice is not one of them."

The microwave sparks, and the Doctor jumps back, frowning at the microwave like he's been personally insulted. But it didn't burn him or anything, so he gets over it fairly quickly.

[nothingsodivine]

"I don't blame the dog and if it weren't for the fact that I don't want her inflicting me with alien smallpox, I'd kidnap it." For Great Justice, really.

Des jumps back when the microwave sparks and bites back a Holy shit, and for a moment just stares at the microwave like it might possibly attack.

"I don't think it likes you taking away its purpose in life." It's... Hot pocket-heating purpose. Of course.

[thatsortofaman]

"It didn't have a purpose in life," the Doctor says, rolling his eyes a little, "primarily because it doesn't have a life. Anyway, like I said. It's for a good cause." He looks up, a bit of a mocking smile on his lips. "You're not scared the microwave's going to attack you, are you?"

[nothingsodivine]

"With you, Doctor, I never know," Des mutters, stepping out of his defensive stance and rolling his eyes in return. "Don't tell me you couldn't turn that thing into something that could chew on my ankles if you had the time and were bored enough."

Obviously, chewing on Des's ankles would not be its primary function, but it would probably have the ability and would use it. That's just the way things are.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor considers that for a second, frowning at the microwave, and then shrugs. "I probably could. What gave you the idea that I would is a question I'm not going to ask. At the moment, it can't move under its own power, so unless you're worried I'm going to throw it at you..."

Come on, Des. Stop being a girl.

[smithnjones]

Martha walks into the kitchen with an armload thanks to Jack. She probably could have left some of it behind, but it all looks so impressive when it's kept together and she's stronger than she looks.

"Hey, boys! Look what we got!" She smiles, brightly, and attempts to maneuver the armload of gifts to the counter or table or somewhere solid so they can go threw them.

But she's ti-i-i-iny. Even being stronger than she looks doesn't mean it's easier to maneuver an armload of gifts! It's Christmas in July!

[nothingsodivine]

Des to the rescue! Or something like that. At any rate, he takes advantage of the distraction to bolt from behind the counter and take some of the weight off Martha. "Whoa there, missy. Don't topple over or anything." Oh Des, sometimes you're randomly a cowboy.

"And who do we have to thank for this impressive haul?" He asks, a little bit shocked at the gifts as he takes some into his arms and drops them onto the counter to examine them better.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor blinks. Gets to his feet and wanders over to snatch the note off the top of the pile of gifts. Take no notice of the half-dismantled microwave, Martha. It's unimportant. Honestly.

He frowns at the signature on the note for a half-second before smirking slightly and setting it down on the table. "Jack." Somehow, he's not surprised. Well, a little, the way Jack looked at him the last time he saw him, but...