The basement of the Conrad is pretty simple and straight-forward in its layout, but even the basement has its odd corridors and nooks and cubby-hole rooms
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The Doctor's decided he needs more scraps for his project. And while he probably could make do with antiquated modern technology, he's really hoping he'll find something that fell through the Rift that'll do a better job. So he's searching random storage closets, rummaging through them one by one.
This particular storage closet, though, gives him pause. They don't often sob, do they?
Then again, it's right on the Rift, so it's not out of the question.
He pauses, and then pulls out his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the door and inspecting it for a moment before concluding that it's just a door. Well, that was predictable. The Doctor thinks for a second longer, then opens the closet door, and points his sonic screwdriver at whatever's inside without pausing to look. Sure, it could be a person, but there's just as much of a possibility that it's a dangerous alien or something.
Becky, for her part, hardly registers the guy with the bleeping blue light. Seriously, she has more important things on her mind.
Like the fact that a kid she'd sworn (to herself, at any rate) to save and protect had gotten murdered right in front of her and she hadn't done anything about it. Not that she COULD have done anything but what she did, but that's not the point.
So she'll just continue crying, if that's alright with you, Doctor.
The Doctor blinks when he sees it's just a girl, curled up in the closet. Crying.
The sonic screwdriver gets put away, and he crouches down in front of her, frowning at her in concern. "Hello. This is probably a bit silly, but... what's wrong?"
"Calisto," he says simply, his voice flat. He's silent a moment, expression dark, and only after a moment or two manages to shake it off and say with perhaps false brightness, "You'd be Becky, then?"
Becky's eyes narrow a bit, suspiciously. Normally, she'd just chalk it up, correctly, to the journals, or word of mouth, or whatever. But right now, she's jumpy and irrational. And he knew it was Calisto. And he knew her name.
"Oh." If she were feeling better, she'd sound and look pretty damn sheepish. As it is, she just sort of curls in on herself more and hopes he goes away. "Right. I forgot."
"Oh, no, well. The magical journals aren't at all important in the scheme of things."
No, the Doctor's not going away any time soon. This is evident from the way that he just sits on the floor in front of her, cross-legged.
"Do you usually hide in closets, or is this just your room? I mean, kind of small, but maybe it's bigger on the inside." He looks at the back wall of the closet, frowns a little, and adds, "Secretly."
Becky shakes her head a bit, carefully keeping her eyes on her knees. Or his knees. The blue is an odd color for a suit, she thinks, but it could work on him, if he's got the right look.
She doesn't know his look, though. Hasn't gotten her gaze above shoulder-level since he walked in. For all she knows, he's got two heads.
...Okay, well, she'd've noticed that, but the point still stands.
"Just... too many people know where my room is," she says, mumbling just a little. "Hard to get time alone."
So she can, you know, cry like a baby. Not that anyone would blame her, but still.
"That's not going so well for you, is it? I mean, here you are, sitting in your closet, alone, and along someone comes, looking for-"
He pauses, his eyes flickering up to the shelf at the top of the closet, and his face lights up. "Oh, there it is!" Not that he even knew this in particular would be in the hotel at all, but he had hoped. He reaches up and pulls down what looks like a long, oblong keyboard, though none of the buttons are labeled - at least, not with anything resembling an Earth language.
"Funny, the things you can always expect to fall through a Rift," he says, settling back down in front of her and clearly oblivious to her wish that he leave. "Certain aliens, certain bits of technology... I assume it's something about them that just makes them more likely to fall through, but I never have been able to figure it out exactly."
"I wouldn't know, I've never fallen through one." She shifts a little, not quite sure what to think of this man who doesn't seem to notice that she was crying in here, and probably would prefer to be left alone.
She sniffles a little, rubbing her nose on her sleeve. "What do you need it for?"
"Oh, that's right! You're from this universe! Well, of course you are, angel and all."
He flips the alien artifact over in his hands, studying it with a cheerful grin. "I'm making a... ah... Well, I suppose it's best called a control panel. For the Rift. Set it all up, and everyone gets to go home. Although... I think I might stay a bit longer. Things to be done here first."
Mostly, Calisto to be dealt with, given that he's already promised her he's going to stop her, one way or another. And then he'll swan off to his own universe, as usual, but at least they'll be a little better off for it.
"Huh. Cool." Becky laughs a little, and looks over at the component.
Unfortunately for her, he's moving the thing around so she's following its progress, and she happens to flick her eyes over to his face when it goes near...
People in elaborate robes and headdresses standing around an older man with dark hair. Something has just happened, judgment has been passed, and he can't be allowed to remain. He's too difficult to control. She doesn't know exactly what happens, but there's pain, and he falls to his knees
( ... )
This particular storage closet, though, gives him pause. They don't often sob, do they?
Then again, it's right on the Rift, so it's not out of the question.
He pauses, and then pulls out his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the door and inspecting it for a moment before concluding that it's just a door. Well, that was predictable. The Doctor thinks for a second longer, then opens the closet door, and points his sonic screwdriver at whatever's inside without pausing to look. Sure, it could be a person, but there's just as much of a possibility that it's a dangerous alien or something.
At least, in the Doctor's mind.
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Like the fact that a kid she'd sworn (to herself, at any rate) to save and protect had gotten murdered right in front of her and she hadn't done anything about it. Not that she COULD have done anything but what she did, but that's not the point.
So she'll just continue crying, if that's alright with you, Doctor.
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The sonic screwdriver gets put away, and he crouches down in front of her, frowning at her in concern. "Hello. This is probably a bit silly, but... what's wrong?"
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"Ricky died," she whispers, not uncurling, not looking up. "It's my fault. I couldn't stop it. She just... killed him."
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"Yeah," she says slowly. "How d'you know that?"
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"I know everything." Beat. "And, y'know, it was in the journals."
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No, the Doctor's not going away any time soon. This is evident from the way that he just sits on the floor in front of her, cross-legged.
"Do you usually hide in closets, or is this just your room? I mean, kind of small, but maybe it's bigger on the inside." He looks at the back wall of the closet, frowns a little, and adds, "Secretly."
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She doesn't know his look, though. Hasn't gotten her gaze above shoulder-level since he walked in. For all she knows, he's got two heads.
...Okay, well, she'd've noticed that, but the point still stands.
"Just... too many people know where my room is," she says, mumbling just a little. "Hard to get time alone."
So she can, you know, cry like a baby. Not that anyone would blame her, but still.
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He pauses, his eyes flickering up to the shelf at the top of the closet, and his face lights up. "Oh, there it is!" Not that he even knew this in particular would be in the hotel at all, but he had hoped. He reaches up and pulls down what looks like a long, oblong keyboard, though none of the buttons are labeled - at least, not with anything resembling an Earth language.
"Brilliant!"
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And very very silently hopes that maybe he'll go away and leave her alone, potentially good-looking suit notwithstanding.
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She sniffles a little, rubbing her nose on her sleeve. "What do you need it for?"
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He flips the alien artifact over in his hands, studying it with a cheerful grin. "I'm making a... ah... Well, I suppose it's best called a control panel. For the Rift. Set it all up, and everyone gets to go home. Although... I think I might stay a bit longer. Things to be done here first."
Mostly, Calisto to be dealt with, given that he's already promised her he's going to stop her, one way or another. And then he'll swan off to his own universe, as usual, but at least they'll be a little better off for it.
Reply
Unfortunately for her, he's moving the thing around so she's following its progress, and she happens to flick her eyes over to his face when it goes near...
People in elaborate robes and headdresses standing around an older man with dark hair. Something has just happened, judgment has been passed, and he can't be allowed to remain. He's too difficult to control. She doesn't know exactly what happens, but there's pain, and he falls to his knees ( ... )
Reply
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