I think these things are too hopeful, even with my expert knowledge...

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor's in a better mood than he has been in... quite some time. Being able to actually do something useful (and suitably impressive) will do that to him. So when he wanders into the Kashtta, he might actually be bouncing a little. Just a little

Comments

[nothingsodivine]

Des has actually been looking for the Doctor, himself, because now that that the Evil Kidnapping Rat Bastard is dead and gone, there is a minor issue of certain other things that he's not entirely sure aren't going to escalate into another problem.

Des's professional paranoia is not irrational. Not at all.

"Doctor," Des says gleefully when he catches sight of him... Well, it's been awhile, so glee is justified and it's good to see him looking happy. He stops just in front of him and moves onto his point without preamble, because it's been carrying this in his head for awhile. "So I'm just going to cut right to the chase. You, me, and Speaks To Rifts, plus a little sit-down where we question his religion- this should happen, right?"

[thatsortofaman]

Oh, look! A Des! The Doctor grins, rather brightly, upon seeing him, and stops to listen to him, hands still in his pockets, head tilted slightly to one side.

"You've been dwelling on this, haven't you?" he asks mildly after a moment, though he's been thinking about it too. Just... less, with the bomb and all. They tend to be more pressing than mad so-called prophets. "I guess we could do that, yeah." Like he wasn't planning on it anyway.

[nothingsodivine]

Des's glee quickly becomes rather petulant. "Well yeah. Okay, sure there were more pressing matters going on what with the bombs and the Fall of Western Civilization because Harkness's Id went on a rampage, but that's over now, and something about this guy rubs me the wrong way."

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks the Doctor over. "You know you want to go and poke holes all in this guy's belief system. Don't pretend I'm the only overeager one here."

Well, okay, he's the one who is sort of bouncing around wanting to do it now, but he's had less to do since the whole rescue thing and he's not quite ready to go back to fixing his office back up.

[thatsortofaman]

"There are plenty of things about most people that rub you the wrong way," the Doctor mutters, but fondly. "Still... tell people they're holy, things never go well after that. Human nature, you just can't... exist without making up stories just so everything makes sense..." Yes, Des is a human, but he's different. As are... most people the Doctor's fond of. At least, if you ask the Doctor.

"We could go now, if you like. It's close enough to walk..." The attempt at an innocent face does not hide just how eager he is to go poke at this. Things are going right in his life now. He'd like to keep it up.

[nowinprint]

The robot isn't here, Dave Doctor. Mostly because it saw you coming and retreated to an isolated office on the fifth floor.

But have a kinda-sorta-Angel-of-Knowledge coming down the stairs toward you! Dmitri may have spent the night dozing in the lounge with a pile of stuffed animals. Hey, fluffy rooms in the middle of secret agent headquarters might not be everyone's idea of comfort lodgings, but Dmitri's not everyone's idea of a... normal person.

"Well, look at you," she calls, on catching that expression, finishing the last few stairs at a jog. "What did you solve, DoOrDie?"

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor blinks a little at her, and his expression flickers a little - oncoming Dmitri is usually something to give him pause, especially lately - but as this doesn't seem to be an oncoming Dmitri of the "serious conversations the Doctor would rather avoid" sort, he quickly goes back to the unconcerned grin.

"Oh, nothing much. Coffee shop's still standing, though, which is more than I can say for the past... many, many months." That thing has not been undamaged for any stretch of time more than a month since he got here.

[nowinprint]

Dmitri laughs, at that. "Well, I'd say that's worth a few gold stars. Pat on the back. Maybe the key to the city. So, are you heading off for any other dashing deeds of derring-do? Or just visiting Casa de la Creepy for a while?"

Dmitri may be regaining her spirits! At least in casual settings.

Movie nights and popcorn fights. They help everything.

[thatsortofaman]

"Not just yet." There's nothing else exploding, that he's aware of, for one. And as much as he enjoys excitement, he doesn't mind a little quiet now, after everything. "Just thought I should make sure everything's... alright here... Although I heard there was a robot. It sent me suits. Don't suppose you've seen it?"

Yes, he is a little fixated on that. He thinks he has a right to be, considering the suits.

[anystranger]

There's a robot. In a fifth-floor office. One which, tactically, would be among the last searched in any sort of logical search pattern.

It's not really doing anything, just... being there. Hard to find. Starin' at the door. Possibly working out the kinks in special relativity, or, you know, adding more in. (It's a Chula thing.)

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor, occasionally, follows no logical patterns whatsoever. And sometimes he's been told who to talk to in order to get a hint about where to look. Either way.

After a while, the door swings open, and the Doctor grins. "Oh, there you are! Hello..." He saunters into the room, straight toward the robot and tilting his head to one side to study it at the same time. "I'm the Doctor. But I'm sure you knew that already, didn't you?"

[anystranger]

CHULA ROBOT IS DISPLEASED.

It drops into a diagnostic pose, which is only differentiated from its defensive posture by the fact that its giant sword stays retracted and the shutters on its wrist cannon stay closed.

{IDENTIFIED: TIME LORD. PROCESSING TEMPORAL TRACE … … … … … CONFIRMED: TIME LORD. This unit identifies as Chula Antipersonnel Armour completion ID D1747ч. Autoload hidden message: origin: Chula Aegmatra council: message contents: "Chula council science adjunct station experiment ID 975NER39 has confirmed .034% greater efficiency in Chula paradox damping over Time Lord paradox evasion; is this consistent with your observations?"}

{Internal override.}

{Social interaction terminated. This unit requests removal of all Time Lord personnel and equipment from this location.}

Then it turns around, stalks to the corner, puts its back to the wall, and crosses its arms.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor frowns a little, blinks at it, and then sighs, just a bit frustrated. "Oh, come on, I was only trying to talk! Perfectly friendly. You sent me suits. This suit, actually. What'd you do that for? Not that I mind, honestly, it's just..."

Come on, CNJ! He only wants to say hello!

[o_hai_meatbags]

HK-47 is not a Chula robot. He is, however, patrolling the ground floor, somewhat perturbed at the fact that his memory banks are missing several months. So he's attempting to distract himself by testing out a modification that he doesn't remember being installed. Someone familiar with advanced tech would probably call it a perception filter. HK doesn't really care enough to call it anything; if it's important, someone will tell him.

He pauses briefly at the sight of the Doctor. The face is not stored in his databanks, and Master's orders were to protect those that live in this building. His processors speed up a little at the happy thought that he might actually get to shoot something. Oh, HK. You never stop hoping.

"Demand: Identify yourself," HK says. He keeps his weapons down but ready, just in case. Meatbags can be so touchy, and Master would be angry if he killed someone important.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor blinks at the thing, a little surprised. Doesn't look like anything Chula - at least not anything he recognizes as Chula engineering, unless it's very different from the Chula of his universe - but...

"I'm the Doctor. Hello!" He doesn't seem particularly concerned about the thing, despite the obvious weapons. "And... who're you?"

[o_hai_meatbags]

HK-47 is rather insulted that his appearance has not induced intimidation or fear of any sort. Perhaps this organic is defective somehow. Still, the potential threat level appears to be rather low, so unless this organic decides to initiate hostilities, he will reluctantly refrain from slaughter. For now.

"Identification: I am HK-47, protocol and assassin droid," he says proudly, photoreceptors glowing bright red. "My Master has instructed me to protect the meatbags inhabiting this facility. Interrogative: You are not in my databanks. Please state your intentions at once, or unfortunate hostilities may occur." Any excuse, right?

[thatsortofaman]

"Well, it's nice to meet you, HK-47. Can I call you HK?" He wanders a little closer, studying the robot's... face, or the robotic equivalent of such. Hard to tell expressions on a robot, but it seems to him that it might be a bit annoyed. ...Like that's going to put him off.

"Unfortunate hostilities," he repeats thoughtfully. "That's a bit unnecessary, don't you think? And for that matter, it might go over a bit better if you didn't go around calling people 'meatbags'... I know, bit ridiculous, all those squishy organic bits, but they can't help it!"