An entirely expected visitation
Characters: Duma, The Eleventh Doctor
Content: The Time Lord visits the Angel
Setting: St Destino Hospital Chapel
Time: Week 28
Warnings: None
Duma had worked hard to make the dusty, disused chapel feel like home. Or as close to home as he could. He had raided every cupboard for candles, the stubs of two dozen different ages lined the pews and altar. He had dusted well, shifting the grime of disuse until the air was no longer thick to breathe. He had pens and old paper, even a nest of sorts, from appropriated pillows in the far corner.
Under the skylights, in three rusted metal buckets, Duma's seeds were beginning to sprout. One group was a lush, light green, and seemed to flicker with the little noises that filtered in from other places. Another was dark and tangly, and grew faster in the moonlight. The last was straggly and dull, and it took all of Duma's patience to make it grow.
The Angel walked purposefully around with a piece of paper, lighting each candle in turn, then he sat down to listen and wait. Nothing in his demeanor betrayed that he was nervous.
Duma was expecting a guest.
Content: The Time Lord visits the Angel
Setting: St Destino Hospital Chapel
Time: Week 28
Warnings: None
Duma had worked hard to make the dusty, disused chapel feel like home. Or as close to home as he could. He had raided every cupboard for candles, the stubs of two dozen different ages lined the pews and altar. He had dusted well, shifting the grime of disuse until the air was no longer thick to breathe. He had pens and old paper, even a nest of sorts, from appropriated pillows in the far corner.
Under the skylights, in three rusted metal buckets, Duma's seeds were beginning to sprout. One group was a lush, light green, and seemed to flicker with the little noises that filtered in from other places. Another was dark and tangly, and grew faster in the moonlight. The last was straggly and dull, and it took all of Duma's patience to make it grow.
The Angel walked purposefully around with a piece of paper, lighting each candle in turn, then he sat down to listen and wait. Nothing in his demeanor betrayed that he was nervous.
Duma was expecting a guest.