(no subject)
Who: The Seventh Doctor
What: Phantom Death Toll Pains
When: Early Saturday
Where: In the hallway on the second floor
Warnings & Notes: Nothing planned. Mostly I wanted to get him a little new CR.
The Doctor has been making trails between the infirmary and his room. Carrying an item in from here. One back to there. Various items that he'd personally provided the medical facilities that were in need of repair. That was still the room he was taking the greatest pains to keep clean, no matter what other ideas that the ship had pertaining to the matter.
Here and then there was the spark of discomfort. A bit of a chest ache. A bit of a stomach ached. And then suddenly he was being riddled with invisible bullets again.
At first he thought it was recalling how he'd been wounded before coming to the Barge (before the hospital finished him off). In a little crumpled pile of groan and beige suit, his arms folded over his stomach as he tried to gather himself. What had just happened to him?
He staggered upright, stretched out his hand to lean against the wall, and drew in the sharpest little struggling breath as he willed the last of the pangs out of his chest. "That was more than a little perturbing," he muttered to himself. And probably the mongoose, wherever it was hiding.
What: Phantom Death Toll Pains
When: Early Saturday
Where: In the hallway on the second floor
Warnings & Notes: Nothing planned. Mostly I wanted to get him a little new CR.
The Doctor has been making trails between the infirmary and his room. Carrying an item in from here. One back to there. Various items that he'd personally provided the medical facilities that were in need of repair. That was still the room he was taking the greatest pains to keep clean, no matter what other ideas that the ship had pertaining to the matter.
Here and then there was the spark of discomfort. A bit of a chest ache. A bit of a stomach ached. And then suddenly he was being riddled with invisible bullets again.
At first he thought it was recalling how he'd been wounded before coming to the Barge (before the hospital finished him off). In a little crumpled pile of groan and beige suit, his arms folded over his stomach as he tried to gather himself. What had just happened to him?
He staggered upright, stretched out his hand to lean against the wall, and drew in the sharpest little struggling breath as he willed the last of the pangs out of his chest. "That was more than a little perturbing," he muttered to himself. And probably the mongoose, wherever it was hiding.