Comments | iwasplastic: Quiet, whippersnapper! ((RP for elevenwho))

iwasplastic

Quiet, whippersnapper! ((RP for elevenwho))

Jul 15, 2010 09:24

All things considered, Rory Williams (Pond? Williams-Pond? Pond-Williams?) was an easy man to please. All he really wanted in life was his wife, clean socks (very important, clean socks! That was probably the least pleasant thing about being plastic for thousands of years. Monumentally dirty socks. He’d had to wait about 500 years for them to even ( Read more... )

what: rp, who: 11

Comments 18

elevenwho July 15 2010, 04:14:48 UTC

The Doctor, who happened to be conveniently walking by the room that was serving as a kitchen for Rory today, popped his head in. Eyebrows raised, he looked between Rory and the jar of glowing purple, then back at Rory again. "Don't eat that."

The rest of the Doctor popped in after that, and he clapped his hands together, rubbed them quickly, and snatched the jar from Rory's hands. "Why? What's a shop have that I haven't?"

iwasplastic July 15 2010, 06:26:19 UTC

“Jars of things in that I can actually eat, for one.” Rory opened the fridge door wider, to prove his point. If the TARDIS had run on electricity, he would have felt bad about wasting power. But it didn’t, so there.

“It’s like a lab in here, not a kitchen. I don’t know about you, but humans can’t eat--” he pulled out a block of something blue “--this.”

Pausing, Rory looked at said block, shaking it a bit. “Can humans eat this?”

Really, what was he supposed to know about alien kitchens? English kitchens, sure. Roman kitchens! Greek kitchens, Egyptian kitchens. All sorts of earth-based kitchens, Rory had covered. Spaceship kitchens, he was working on.

elevenwho July 15 2010, 15:22:00 UTC

"Humans can eat anything they want, Rory. Whether they should is something altogether different." The Doctor smiled breezile and poked at the blue block. "I've been looking for that. Completely edible."

His eyes sparkled. "And an excellent hair conditioner."

iwasplastic July 15 2010, 15:29:01 UTC

"The vomitoriums, for one," Rory offered, grimacing at the memory. "There wasn't actually a space designed for it in public theaters. That's a myth. But there was still a lot of eating and vomiting and eating and vomiting and I've said vomiting too many times in one sentence."

Now his manly lunch was really in danger!

"Oh!" Rory brightened. "Is that how get you get the --" he pointed to the Doctor's hair and made a 'schwooping' noise.

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