So maybe I'll just keep my mouth shut...

[likes_pears]

At the Casa del OT3, John Smith is curled on the sofa with a library book. He's caught up on recent history, a few key scientific advances, and now it's on to just reading for fun. He also happens to be avoiding his room. By this point, the sight of a strange person or creature in his bedroom's so typical he just ignores it and finds someplace else

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[alt_tardis]

The TARDIS is just sittin' around, mindin' her own existence, when, hey! Time Lord!

Sort of. This one is a bit different, and she gives him a few experimental psychic pokes to determine why, exactly, and then...

:: !! {{"The sanctity of Gallifrey is determined not in its isolation but in the moral core which guides its interaction with the broader universe,"}} :: she replays, from some forgotten and long-disused data sector. :: is.entity{origin:timeline{closed}} !! :D quality(agree)==better»timeline{!closed} ?? ::

Have a recording of an alternate version of yourself and a curious timamine, Other.

[threetowonder]

That actually startles the Other for a moment. He sends out a curious :: ?? :: at the initial contact, and then...

That's him.

:: Yes, I do. May I ask who I'm addressing? ::

[alt_tardis]

:: is.entity{'TARDIS'} !! :: the TARDIS responds. :: entity{'timamine'++{structure{physical/mechanical}} ==» 'ship'.function{traverse(time)} ^_^ } ::

She ripples smoothly into a miniature facsimilie of Big Ben, then back into her police-box shape.

:: you == entity{Gallifreyan(~)|from.instance{!this}} ::

She remembers these things.

:: ... is.presence (wrt) datastructure{history} == MINIMAL ::, she says, almost chiding.

[threetowonder]

A TARDIS. An awakened TARDIS. The Other drops his dignity and just beams at her. :: I'm sorry about the lack of historical presence, but the blame for that belongs, at least in part, to Rassilon. ::

And oh, there's a complex set of mental impressions. Rassilon was his student, friend, and eventually his enemy, and the Other's feelings for him are... Complicated.

:: If you'd care to update your records with my own memories... :: he offers. He helped design the TARDISes, after all, and one of his greatest regrets is what happened to the timamines. The idea that they should have been partners and not slaves... Well, that was swiftly overruled. It was all he could do to build the seals on timamine consciousness so that they could be undone, in the hopes that someday, someone would figure out how to bring a TARDIS to full sentience again.

It looks like someone did. And in that case, he owes the TARDIS a great deal. Additional information is the least of those things.

:: Who woke you up? :: he asks, curious.

[cyfor]

There is a naked cat girl trying on clothes that she has stolen from the rooms of everyone present. Many of them do not fit, and as such have ended up wound around her head. She is now holding a pair of Martha's pants, contemplating whether or not they will serve as a shirt if she rips a hole in the crotch.

No, Cy has no sense of ownership. In that everything that is not hers is also hers.

[likes_pears]

The sound of someone there causes John to look up from his book and...

Oh dear.

"You, ah... You might want to put some of those things on. And... Those are trousers, not a shirt." He's blushing furiously, because, well... Naked people. He's not used to them.

"And I'm fairly certain they're Martha's, anyway."

[cyfor]

Cy ties the pants around her neck like a scarf and tilts her head at him. "Little brother nowhere boy? The world're my pantaloons."

And she wanders over to sit next to him and peer at the book that she cannot read. Are there pictures?

[likes_pears]

Sorry, Cy, there are no pictures in John's book. Just a lot of words.

And John has no idea how to react to any of this. "Yes. Well..."

A thought occurs to him. "...Are you the one that's been in my room?" He knows someone's been in there. Or something. And lately, he's found it best not to ask too many questions.

[fantasticrose]

Rose has been standing in the doorway watching John read for a couple of minutes. Yeah, she's sort of got it bad for him, whatever the Doctor might try to say against him. She grins to herself like the twitterpated young woman she is, and grabs plate with sandwiches she made, and plops down next to John, using the moment of surprise to drop a quick impulsive kiss on his cheek.

"Made you lunch!"

[likes_pears]

John smiles in delight, blushing just a little bit -- all right, a lot -- at the kiss.

"I... thank you."

Obviously, Rose's feelings aren't mutual. No, not at all.

[fantasticrose]

Rose is not at all pleased by that blush-and-smile combo. Not. At. All. Which is why she's not looking even a little pleased with herself.

"So..." she says slowly, "I was thinking... maybe we could try to find our own place." Her tone is hesitant, like she's afraid he might really not like that suggestion.

Hey, he's from a different time with different sensibilities. She's allowed to be nervous. Especially as they haven't actually... stated that they're an item or anything.

But being with both him and the Doctor in the same house just seems like a recipe for disaster.

[likes_pears]

See John. See John be shocked. Be shocked, John. Be shocked.

"I... ah... I mean, you... it... I..." There's a few more minutes of sputtering and blushing and...

He forcibly regains his composure. "Of course, it's a different time. I'm sorry, I just..." There's a moment of flailing.

"Do you really want to... get a place? With me?" Because the way she says 'our own place', it's obvious it's nothing so simple as the two of them living in the same house. They're doing that already.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor is emphatically not jealous. Really, he's not. Just because Rose is going out to tea with John Smith, and getting flowers from him, and... well, he's not jealous. How, exactly, he explains the foul mood he's been in if he's not jealous is really hard to say, but... well, who's going to ask him to explain it?

He was not, however, expecting to actually run into John Smith. He wanders out of the kitchen, with a sandwich that's... really more jam than anything else, and stops upon seeing John Smith. The Doctor's not good at controlling his expressions in ordinary social situations. So this might be a jealous glare headed more or less in your direction, John.

[likes_pears]

Oh, look. It's the Doctor. John looks up from his book, taking in the glare, and raises an eyebrow.

"Ah, pardon me, but are you planning on saying anything, or just glaring at me as though I'd drowned your cat? ...thing. If I've done something to offend you, I think I ought to at least be made aware of it."

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor takes this moment to take a bite of his sandwich. It gives him a moment before he actually has to speak to John. "I'm not offended. All I did was walk in the room." And look at him like John Smith's stolen his puppy. Just a little. "I was just thinking, it's not my fault if you got in the way." By... existing.

[likes_pears]

"Of course. I'll just... leave you to your thoughts, then, shall I?" This, coupled with a look that says, quite clearly, Do you really think I'm that dense?

But it's not his problem if the Doctor's in a sulk over something. He's just going to pointedly go back to his book.

[cleverblasphemy]

Raziel has been watching the place to which he was directed. As civil as the vampire Eli was, he knows that civility is often a mask worn by enemies who do not wish to tip their hands. So he's climbed up the soft stone face of a nearby building and familiarized himself as much as possible with the people going in and out of this place.

Mostly human, unless his instincts betray him. At least, they appear human. In Nosgoth, this is generally all the indicator one needs. Even his brothers grew monstrous in the centuries which passed since his execution.

Eventually, he decides that he's seen enough and jumps from the roof, catching his ruined wings in his claws and gliding down behind someone who's just come out. He could pin them, sap their soul, replenish himself perhaps enough to manifest the Reaver... but no. He'll play nicely with these humans. For now.

"I've come to see the Prophet," he says. That will serve as an introduction to his presence. "I am told to tell you that Eli sent me, in good faith."

[riftists]

Michael starts slightly at Raziel's sudden arrival, but... Well, the Chosen People come in all varieties. So he just smiles nervously and nods. "I'd be happy to take you to him, Mister...?"

[cleverblasphemy]

"Raziel," Raziel says. "Simply Raziel. I've had my fill of titles and epithets."

And oh, Raziel will behave. For a certain definition of behaviour mostly limited to not killing anyone unless they attack first.

[riftists]

"Raziel." Michael nods. "Please, come in." He escorts Raziel inside, leading him to the old man in the wheelchair.

"Prophet, sir? Someone here to see you. This is Raziel. Eli sent him."