The house looks like something history hasn't touched in at least five decades. It sits on the top of a mountain, cold and solitary, a beacon to an era that is no more. The stone building stands hundreds of feet tall; a miniature palace with a deco-feel, long columns standing on either side of a singular stone cylinder ( Read more... )

The voice is likely one known to many, if not all, who had their communicators on.

"Just to clarify things for me... Is there a reason why I'm wanted in the city of London?"

It was a TARDIS. Around the garden, that was nothing new. Big blue box, locked door, same thing every time. Or nearly so. When the door opened, the form that peered out might well be recognizable to many. Tall and lean, shades of brown with a hairstyle that had inspired rumours of some sort of symbiote furry alien rather than a true coif ( Read more... )

Picking up the communicator, the Doctor stared at it moodily. Turning it over time and again in his hands, he wasn't sure this was what he wanted to do. He'd just bloody well gotten Rose off to greener pastures, why would he want to saddle himself with playing well with others so soon ( Read more... )