Martha Jones walks into the Inn with the Doctor (tenth regeneration to be exact) right beside her. Her shoulder bumps against him as she walks inside and well, stops as soon as she gets through the doorway
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And once again, Molokov is the witness to more strange people arriving into the Inn. If he didn't know any better, he would swear it was a conspiracy. (Well, he'd swear it was a conspiracy no matter the case.)
He sighs, because he has no desire to be a welcoming committee, but he goes to greet them anyway. If nothing else, he may be able to extract interesting information for his and Walter's use.
Martha stares as he approaches, and then turns to whisper to the Doctor. "All right then, when'd you start letting strange men into the Tardis?"
Of course, she's come to the conclusion at this point that this is not quite the Tardis anymore, but some place together.
"Hi." She raises her chin and squares her shoulders "I'm Martha Jones. This is the Doctor... Wait!" Martha really examines his features this time, tilting her head to the left. "Aren't you... Mr. Saxon, uhm, sir?"
What is he doing here of all places? This is starting to get weird.
"We're apparently outside of space and time," Molokov answers. He is still not sure, even with all that's happened, if he really believes any of this. But until a better explanation kicks around, he'll go with it.
As it turns out, there is someone at the Inn who is the spitting image of Molokov. But he's nearly repressed all memory of that meeting due to the disturbing conversation they had.
"No, you've got it about right. The Inn sits outside of time and space and while we're here, everything's at a standstill in our own timestream."
He remembers seeing a pamphlet once and thinks it up, handing it over for Martha's reading pleasure.
Now however, his attention is fully on Molokov. "She's right though, you do look really familiar." He knows from where, knows it's not just Saxton but doesn't say anything about all that. Far, far too awkard to get into.
"Still," he adds. "Pleasure to meet you an' all that!"
"The pleasure is mine," Molokov replies, almost automatically. His skills of intimidation are virtually of no use here - he has had to resurrect his dormant charm and pleasant mannerisms.
"People keep saying that," he adds, as an afterthought. "It's disconcerting."
He sighs, because he has no desire to be a welcoming committee, but he goes to greet them anyway. If nothing else, he may be able to extract interesting information for his and Walter's use.
"Hello."
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Of course, she's come to the conclusion at this point that this is not quite the Tardis anymore, but some place together.
"Hi." She raises her chin and squares her shoulders "I'm Martha Jones. This is the Doctor... Wait!" Martha really examines his features this time, tilting her head to the left. "Aren't you... Mr. Saxon, uhm, sir?"
What is he doing here of all places? This is starting to get weird.
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"I am Alexander Molokov," he answers after a moment. "You have me mistaken for someone else, I'm afraid."
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She adjusts the jacket she's wearing and slides her hands into her pockets. "When... I mean, erhm, where are we?"
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As it turns out, there is someone at the Inn who is the spitting image of Molokov. But he's nearly repressed all memory of that meeting due to the disturbing conversation they had.
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He remembers seeing a pamphlet once and thinks it up, handing it over for Martha's reading pleasure.
Now however, his attention is fully on Molokov. "She's right though, you do look really familiar." He knows from where, knows it's not just Saxton but doesn't say anything about all that. Far, far too awkard to get into.
"Still," he adds. "Pleasure to meet you an' all that!"
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The pamphlet is very informative.
She glances up at the man again though when the Doctor mentions that he looks familiar. At least she wasn't the only one tot hink so.
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"People keep saying that," he adds, as an afterthought. "It's disconcerting."
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