06 [voice / location: the dodgy jammer] tomorrow is your only home
Fitz took some time surveying his pub's new neighborhood. It was now sharing a square with a Roman villa, a supicious looking apothecary, a yurt, and a dance studio which constantly blared music he vaguely understood to be from "the 80s." At least the parade of fit Extra ladies in leotards and leg warmers provided some decent scenery.
He did a quick inspection of the place, flipped the sign to "open," and checked the tablet for folks to invite to the grand re-opening. Which was when he noted the absence of a certain fiesty ginger. Fitz sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to sort his mix of emotions: glad that she was out of Taxon, saddened because he knew the sort of Doctor-related chaos she was probably up to her neck in again, and more than a touch jealous that he still wasn't back with his Doctor.
He sat himself on the edge of the stage and turned on teh vocie function. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's my duty to inform you that Mrs. Amy Pond has left the city. Drinks are on the house today in her honor."
Aftr the transmission he set the tablet aside and picked up his guitar to play one of his old songs, a six-note meolody as chanegable and unfinished as the man he wrote it for all those years ago. The tablet conveninetly clicked on again as he began to sing:
"Sail on, sailor, sail on, still listening for your siren song; tomorrow is your only home..."
ooc: the song is canon (The Year of Intelligent Tigers) and was indeed written for the Doctor. right.
He did a quick inspection of the place, flipped the sign to "open," and checked the tablet for folks to invite to the grand re-opening. Which was when he noted the absence of a certain fiesty ginger. Fitz sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to sort his mix of emotions: glad that she was out of Taxon, saddened because he knew the sort of Doctor-related chaos she was probably up to her neck in again, and more than a touch jealous that he still wasn't back with his Doctor.
He sat himself on the edge of the stage and turned on teh vocie function. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's my duty to inform you that Mrs. Amy Pond has left the city. Drinks are on the house today in her honor."
Aftr the transmission he set the tablet aside and picked up his guitar to play one of his old songs, a six-note meolody as chanegable and unfinished as the man he wrote it for all those years ago. The tablet conveninetly clicked on again as he began to sing:
"Sail on, sailor, sail on, still listening for your siren song; tomorrow is your only home..."
ooc: the song is canon (The Year of Intelligent Tigers) and was indeed written for the Doctor. right.