Transition's our profession and we don't work nine to five...

[asliceofchaos]

The night of the full moon is unusually warm after the recent winter weather, and those who follow the sound of music floating through the woods, the path lined by fairy lights, will find that it only grows warmer the further they go. By the time they reach the Carnival, there's no snow on the ground at all - only lush, newly-grown grass and

Comments

[The Bar]

[asliceofchaos]

The bar has everything you could possibly want as far as food and drink is concerned, so if there's something you've been craving, get it now, because you don't know when it'll be here again.

Just stay away from the house specials. No matter what the smiling barmaid tells you, you don't want the White Lotus or a shot of Eros or any of the other token drinks. They'll only bring you trouble.

[thatsortofaman]

"I have a hobby," he grumbles under his breath, almost like he's speaking more to himself than to Peter. "It involves trying to find a way to- What... What's wrong with your neck?"

He wouldn't ask, except Burke's fidgeting like a dog with fleas. It's a bit distracting.

[lovethissuit]

"Sarcasm, Doctor," he sighs. "I wasn't trying t- That isn't what I meant."

Peter forces his hands down onto the bar, and tells them that they will stay there, damn it. "I don't know, it's just ridiculously itchy lately. Maybe a bug bit me or something, who the hell knows. All I do know is that it's driving me bonkers." Besides, if he keeps going at it like that, he's going to end up scratching it absolutely raw - and this is not how he'd like to go about testing his new mojo, thank you.

He isn't able to see the quarter-sized tattoo right behind his ear in the middle of the quickly receding redness. It's not exactly in a very visible spot - unless you're sitting right next to a body.

[thatsortofaman]

And because the Doctor has no sense of personal space and no real regard for anyone else's, he immediately leans in to inspect this so-called bug bite, because... that doesn't look like any bug bite he's ever seen. And he could tell you some horror stories about various alien insects if you really wanted to hear them.

After a moment or two, he pokes it. When the ink doesn't smear under his finger, he snorts a little and leans back. "It's not a bite. It's a mark. A tattoo, and I think I recognize the artist."

[lovethissuit]

Peter immediately leans away as soon as he notices the Doctor getting all up and in his bubble and smacks his hand away sharply because... Seriously.

"Would you quit that and get out of th--" Once the Doctor makes his observation and gets back in his seat, he'll also get a great view of Peter's face. There are no words to truly describe it. "...A what."

No, he's good on the horror right now without hearing about the Martian birds and bees, thank you.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor jerks his hand back with a faintly offended look, and shakes it out a little as he sits back in his chair, but manages not to complain about it somehow.

"It's not bad," he comments idly, clearly not really grasping why Peter might be bothered by this. "Pretty, actually. Though you should probably stop scratching it..."

[lovethissuit]

Congratulations, Peter will send for a medal in order to commemorate your non-complaining. Because that's what's important here.

For a moment, he just stares at the other man. "Not bad?" he echoes incredulously. "I have a tattoo on my neck, and all you can is. It's not bad." It's been a good while since he's felt like strangling the Doctor. Luckily, it's far outweighed by the urge to slam his forehead into the bar. He compromises by glaring at him before facepalming.

There's a sarcastic bark of a laugh as he sighs into his hand. "Stop scratching or what? It'll just magic-heal back up again."