Where everyone's identity is just a picture card they need...

[astrongerbeacon]

The Doctor has finally wandered back to the house, and while he's sure he had something he meant to say to Des... he's currently distracted by the mess that's been made of the living room, and the disgruntled whistler grumbling (in a... whistly type way) and clinging to his legs like she's trying to trip him up... or possibly just alert him to the

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[thrillofthekill]

This may or may not have been the best time for Vincent Sterling, after months of being in this comatose state, to come back to the world at large. Possibly Martin's too occupied talking to notice the occasional beeping of increased brain activity that gets steadily stronger as Vincent starts to wake up. He doesn't register his last memories before falling unconscious just yet, mostly because all he can hear is a voice... He knows that voice, right? He knows...

Aw hell.

"Martin, what the fuckin' hell?" Comes the groggy response.

And with that, Vincent Sterling returns to the land of the conscious, somewhat confused and disoriented and about to realize that his entire universe has gone to hell.

Oh well. At least he's awake again.

[astrongerbeacon]

Martin nearly falls over. He doesn't think he can be blamed for that. It happens when the guy who's been in the coma for months suddenly wakes up.

"Vincent! Holy fuck, you're awake!" Martin lunges toward the bedside, really hoping Vincent wasn't completely conscious for all of that... or doesn't remember it or something. Telling Vincent all about it is one thing when he's in a coma, but when he's awake, it's... a little different.

[thrillofthekill]

Somehow the nature of being in a coma and the last thing he remembers being that Romana put him in a coma is not quite registering, because the immediate thing is that he's up, he's an archangel with instincts that haven't been used in forever, and he's in a hospital bed, when he would rather be outside.

Naturally, Vince is not in the happiest angel ever. He sits up with some degree of difficulty, considering he hasn't so much as moved for months and his hand instinctively goes to his head for a second, before he starts tugging at the various medical equipment. "Naw, I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past. This is all in your head or you're in mine, or whatever the hell you want to make of it. What're you goin' on about?"

Yes, because your love life is clearly the important thing right now, Martin. Not the fact that your boss is awake and about to drive an entire hospital into a coniption fit with the way he's making short work of that medical equipment.

[astrongerbeacon]

Martin stands there for a moment, debating whether he should call a nurse, stop Vincent from pulling off all the medical equipment himself, or just leave him to it, and decides that while he'd rather not throw a nurse right at an unhappy archangel, he should probably do something to keep Vincent from injuring himself. He reaches out to try to keep him from ripping out an IV. "You might not want to..."

Right. There are questions. "Nothing. I just... was talking. I mean, it couldn't hurt..." Although his demon stalker is probably not the best thing to talk to his comafied boss about... Well, not comafied anymore.

[nothingsodivine]

Des has finally returned home from his jaunt with new materials for Nephilim Rescue Whiskey Tango Foxtrot or whatever they're calling it, and he's not actually expecting there to be a Doctor around, he's more or less expecting there to be naked cat!girls who might possibly throw themselves at him, so he's trying to be discreet.

Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon. You come and go, you come and go.

Right. Discreet went out the window when the Doctor decided to poke things. OH LOOK, DOCTOR, YOUR BOYFRIEND IS HOME.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor doesn't look up, hearing the music from the doorway. It can really only mean one thing. The whistler does look up, and whistle/hisses in Des' general direction - it might just blame him for the existence of the cat-girl-thing that invaded his house. That and it doesn't like Des much anyway.

"Des," he calls a little suspiciously, still poking in corners with his umbrella. Well, not his umbrella. He thinks it might belong to Martha. "Did something... explode in here? Or attempt to escape via the Rift?" Though it would probably be somewhat more interesting in here if something had tried to escape through the Rift. And by interesting, he means messy.

[nothingsodivine]

Des heaves a sigh and walks into the living room... Okay, he does not walk so much as he leaps like a gazelle so that it only plays a scant few chords of what might have been 'Bette Davis Eyes' and faces the Doctor like that did not just happen.

"We have a cat now," he says flatly, as if this explains everything. "She stole my jacket."

He's rather tired of having to replace his jackets, dammit.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor frowns, and now he turns to face Des, umbrella slightly raised like a weapon of some sort. "...That's not a cat, Des. I've met cats, and they don't..." Pause. "Well. Unless... Was she wearing a nun's wimple?"

As if all those cats were nuns. Don't question Doctorlogic.

[anystranger]

And then the door to Tosh's office opens and in walks a robot with a really nice electronics toolset from... somewhere. Like, the kind that comes with magnifying eyepieces and a tiny welder and four sizes of wire cutter/wire stripper and a 300-page guide to all the pieces plus tips and tricks section plus DIY electromics manual. It's still in shrink-wrap. And the robot... looks as though it really wasn't expecting Tosh to actually be in here.

There's a tense moment.

It sets the box down inside the door.

Then it backs away, and heads off down the hall.

[who_will_buy]

There is a tiny nephilim staring at the Doctor from the stairs with her head between the rods of the banister. Her expression is a mixture of confusion and awe. Obviously if the Doctor is poking about the house with an umbrella there is a perfectly good, amazing reason for it and she's hoping if she watches him long enough, she'll figure it out for herself.

Or see something amazing.

She may currently be the Doctor's biggest fan, although she spends most of her time with Donna, who Emily finds equally amazing.

[whatdreadhand]

The Doctor doesn't notice Emily at first. The whistler does, and actually detaches itself from his legs to wander closer to her, whistling curiously. It's the kind of curiosity that might lead to trying to eat her if that seems like a good idea, but... You know.

The Doctor's still poking. He'll notice his child-eating pet has found something possibly edible in a minute.

[who_will_buy]

Emily is not quite sure how she should react to the whistler. It seems to be on good terms with the Doctor and the Doctor is amazing and wonderful and only occasionally frightening. There is something inherently frightening about the look of it, but people have had the wrong impression about her and her kind for all of her life. She encountered creatures that looked like monsters coming through the Rift that were much nicer than the people who kept her.

She scoots down a step of the stairs if the Doctor allows it to live here and rub against his leg, it can't be very mean, right?

Emily stretches her hands out toward the cat-thing in her best gesture of peace and meaning no harm and please, don't eat me.

[thatsortofaman]

The whistler's tail lashes against its hindlegs as it prowls closer, still whistling a little. The child should be afraid. Small things should be afraid of it. It crouches about a foot away, tail twitching, and the whistling cuts off as it contemplates this.

It's the whistling that gets the Doctor's attention, and he glances over to the two of them. Registers child and predator (even if it is his pet predator-thing), and sighs, wandering over while flailing his umbrella enough to startle the whistler and send it running to hide under the couch. ...How something its size gets under the couch is anyone's guess.

"Sorry. It's a bit... um... Well, there's a very slim chance it wanted to eat you. You should probably... give a shout if it bothers you again."

[fantasticrose]

Rose is not really paying attention to the mess in the living room when she walks in. She's a little too busy grinning like an idiot and admiring the bouquet of daisies that she's taking to the kitchen to put in water. She's starting to gain weight again and is looking much more healthy. She's got a bit of a hangover (she let Cassandra go 'out on the town' last night), but having tea and biscuits with John... well, that's enough to make things better. Especially when there are flowers.

But, of course, the whistler whistles a little at her as she passes, and she stops to look at it. And then at the living room.

"...What happened?"

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor looks up, looking innocent mostly by force of habit. "Well, it wasn't me - I only just got here. Other than that... really can't say." He gestures to the fireplace with the umbrella. "I think something came through the Rift. And then possibly ate Des. Maybe John Smith too... What are the flowers for?"

It took him a minute to notice the flowers, but he got there, and the question about it just sort of fell naturally off the end of his ramble about things come through the Rift.

[fantasticrose]

Rose raises an eyebrow. "They're for me. When do flowers have to be for something, anyway?" She walks through to the kitchen, and might happen to mention as she does, "Oh, and whatever it was, it didn't eat John, I was just having tea with him."

She may be hoping to avoid a jealous hissy fit. It's not going to work.

[thatsortofaman]

"Oh." He pauses for a second, processing that.

And then the umbrella goes flying, tossed onto the couch, and the Doctor trots into the kitchen after her, with a somewhat disturbed frown. "Why? I mean, he's a bit... dull, isn't he?" The Doctor's not jealous, oh no. Just... concerned. Yes, that's it.