Happiness slips in and takes a seat at a table in the corner...

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor is in the common room. Sulking.

He had been limping around the basement looking for Rose, and been absolutely unable to find her anywhere. This bothered him, quite a bit - on top of the other thing that's been bothering him - so he's curled up in an armchair, journal on his lap, exchanging notes with someone. That is brightening his

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[stonebluesorrow]

((OOC: Zel's been outta things for a while, so here Doctor, have a chimera! :D))

Zel wanders into the common room a while after the Doctor does with the guitar he found in the music room slung over one shoulder. Spotting the Doctor in the chair, writing, Zel ponders for a moment whether he should go over to talk or leave him to his business.

Ultimately, the rather alien (for Zel, at least) need to be social wins out, and Zel heads over in his direction, arching an eyebrow at the ice pack. (Yes, he noticed it, Doctor. But then Zel's senses are rather keener than a humans, so the narration thinks there's not much to worry about.)

"Sprain your ankle?" He asks quietly.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor looks up, blinking a little, and promptly attempts to look innocent. Injured ankle? What injured ankle?

"Oh, no, I just... um. Sort of... had an... encounter. With a bench."

These things happen.

[stonebluesorrow]

Zel laughs and sinks down into his own armchair. (Congrats, by the way, only Lina's ever made Zel laugh.) "A bench. Okay." He flips open his own journal and begins drawing out a series of staff lines on the paper-music notation, in other words, or the beginnings of it. Hence the guitar, which he gently sets down by his chair.

"What're you working on, if you don't mind me asking?"

[thatsortofaman]

He glances down at his journal and gestures vaguely, rather glad that he decided not to question the encounter with the bench.

"Oh, just... chatting with someone. Old friend. Well, I say friend... I've got sort of an odd relationship with all my friends from that long ago." Like the Deca were ever any sort of normal to begin with.

[stonebluesorrow]

Zel continues writing, scribing notes now, occasionally stopping to erase one or two. "How long ago?"

(The narration will note that Zel's not all that familiar with talking to people he doesn't already know well and apologizes for that.)

[thatsortofaman]

"Oh... Nine hundred years? About?" He's full of lies, by the way - it was quite a bit longer than that - but the good thing about travelling through time and space is that people usually can't call you on how old you are unless they know every single place you've been and for how long. Or unless they're psychic.

[stonebluesorrow]

Oh, Zel's not psychic. So he can't really tell that the Doctor's lying.

Ergo, he simply nods, frowning at his journal. He gestures at it somewhat sheepishly. "I'm trying to get back into an old hobby of mine... Used to play guitar way back when."