Happiness slips in and takes a seat at a table in the corner...

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor is in the common room. Sulking.

He had been limping around the basement looking for Rose, and been absolutely unable to find her anywhere. This bothered him, quite a bit - on top of the other thing that's been bothering him - so he's curled up in an armchair, journal on his lap, exchanging notes with someone. That is brightening his

Comments

[alt_tardis]

As to people sulking, the Doctor's about to get some company.

Company comes in the shape of one of the Common Room armchairs, none-too-discreetly scooching itself across the floor in a way that looks like it might be trying to fly, but can't quite get off the ground. It stops in front of him, docking against his own chair to make a sort of walled--well, armed--nest.

:: experience{ASSENT} ::, it grumbles at him. :: attempt(fix({sentient}{illogical}{bioorganisms})) == DIFFICULT. ::

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor smirks faintly and shifts his legs out from underneath him so he's more stretched out, still in his armchair, feet resting on the TARDIS-chair. He is careful, while doing so, not to knock the ice pack off his ankle.

"You just now noticed that?" It's not without sympathy that he says that, but he can't keep the hint of "told you so" out of his tone (and mind).

[alt_tardis]

:: =={necessary}, :: she whines. :: request{additional data}. protocol.set{standard}() ?? ::

It's just one of those things. The Doctor knows what to do. Even ancient time-travelling abstract entities with radically different conceptions of sentience think so.

[thatsortofaman]

He sighs, giving her a slightly pained, slightly apologetic look.

"Wish I could tell you. Like you said, it's difficult. Problem with bioorganisms is we unfix ourselves a lot more easily than we get fixed. Sorry about that."

[stonebluesorrow]

((OOC: Zel's been outta things for a while, so here Doctor, have a chimera! :D))

Zel wanders into the common room a while after the Doctor does with the guitar he found in the music room slung over one shoulder. Spotting the Doctor in the chair, writing, Zel ponders for a moment whether he should go over to talk or leave him to his business.

Ultimately, the rather alien (for Zel, at least) need to be social wins out, and Zel heads over in his direction, arching an eyebrow at the ice pack. (Yes, he noticed it, Doctor. But then Zel's senses are rather keener than a humans, so the narration thinks there's not much to worry about.)

"Sprain your ankle?" He asks quietly.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor looks up, blinking a little, and promptly attempts to look innocent. Injured ankle? What injured ankle?

"Oh, no, I just... um. Sort of... had an... encounter. With a bench."

These things happen.

[stonebluesorrow]

Zel laughs and sinks down into his own armchair. (Congrats, by the way, only Lina's ever made Zel laugh.) "A bench. Okay." He flips open his own journal and begins drawing out a series of staff lines on the paper-music notation, in other words, or the beginnings of it. Hence the guitar, which he gently sets down by his chair.

"What're you working on, if you don't mind me asking?"

[thatsortofaman]

He glances down at his journal and gestures vaguely, rather glad that he decided not to question the encounter with the bench.

"Oh, just... chatting with someone. Old friend. Well, I say friend... I've got sort of an odd relationship with all my friends from that long ago." Like the Deca were ever any sort of normal to begin with.

[justjet]

"You know whenever I meet you... well, you appear to be sulking" Here Doctor, have a Jet come and sit in front of you.

A Jet who is not only still feeling slightly useless but a Jet who is also vaguely realising that she's really began to care far too much about other people.

As such she's looking to annoy... to make herself feel better about her vulnerabilities.

The narration would like to apologize while there's still time.

[thatsortofaman]

"Who says I'm sulking?" he asks, looking up sharply. He's a Time Lord. He Does Not Sulk. At least, that's what he'd like everyone to believe. He is above such things, and when he appears to be sulking, it is for a Very Good Reason.

[justjet]

"You're curled up in a armchair looking sulky... I call that sulking, Unless y'know you're doing brain surgery" Jet grins in a rather charming manner.

A manner which is slightly belied by her eyes which are completely failing to hide a good dose of guilt mixed with quite a few drops of fear.

Jet would never be a good actress.

[thatsortofaman]

"Ah.... no. Does anyone do brain surgery in an armchair? Because if they do, I would very much like to see that."

You know, for curiosity's sake. He doesn't miss that look in her eyes - he's very perceptive - but decides not to ask just now. Probably just the general brokenness of the hotel in general, and it's already been established that he can't do anything about that.