(Untitled)

[championoftime]

Who: The Seventh Doctor
What: Phantom Death Toll Pains
When: Early Saturday
Where: In the hallway on the second floor
Warnings & Notes: Nothing planned. Mostly I wanted to get him a little new CR.

Comments

[not_annika]

Seven was becoming increasingly dissatisfied with her inability to solve the problem of the barge. She was doing yet another sweep, in the stubborn (if by now half-hearted) belief that maybe she misses something due the malfunctions and perhaps by continued and repeated scans she'll find something that will explain it.

She arrives down to level two, her head still in her tricorder when she catches the Doctor's stagger. She immediately goes to him, closing her tricorder. "Do you require assistance?"

[championoftime]

He patted himself down slowly, cringing but gesturing that he'll be alright. "I ought to take a scan, that was... that was a bit peculiar. Much like the time I'd been shot." He glanced to the woman when he opened his eyes again, attempting to gather himself out of being startled.

"I believe I dropped my scanner," he mumbled, perusing the ground at his feet for it.

[not_annika]

Seven fetched it for him, watching him like a hawk. "Perhaps we should return to the infirmary."

[championoftime]

"That's what I was thinking." He turns, heading back in that direction, slowly regaining his breath.

[no_fastolfe]

Vasilia didn't like traversing the slowly degrading corridors, full of people. She liked it less when the lights failed, but sometimes it was unavoidable--

-and sometimes she met people who were not simply hostile strangers but people to whom there was a measure of professional (perhaps even emotional) attachment.

One such had just collapsed against the wall.

"Doctor Smith!" she cried, hurrying to his side.

[I am sorry, she's not new CR. :( But she <3s him sort of?]

Is coo'

[championoftime]

"AHHhh... Oh! Vasilia! I- I'm alright, I assure you!" He levelled his voice to the best of his ability, but he didn't sound alright. A quick pat of his chest, his hand resting over his hearts, made him consider it more deeply.

He gave her a quick, darting smile that settled out of the cringe that wanted to crease up his strange little features. "Odd bit of phantom pain occurred there."

[no_fastolfe]

Her hands fluttered, and then hesitantly she reached out with two fingers, protected by her light plasticine gloves, to find the pulse point that Dr. Jones had checked. And then he looked at her, and she pulled her hand back as if she had made an imposition.

"It something in the environment? Perhaps due to this decay, a metal particle, a spore from the deck-- should you go the infirmary?"

Another helpless gesture of her fingers-- a quite specific one that would have called Nadilla or any of her household robots if they had not already hurried to assist a human-looking individual in distress.

Of course, the robot did not come, the gesture merely a tic at that point, and after a moment of indecision she squared her jaw and offered him one of her slim, gloved hands.

[championoftime]

With a loud exhale, he waved her hand away and felt the pain subside. "No, not a spore." Then another laugh. Sad and dry, trailing off into him leaving his eyes shut briefly again and then straightening his hat.

"Recall when I told you how I died? ...That's what I felt. The pain related to it. Nothing quite so alarming as spontaneously having the sensation of perforations that are no longer present."

As if he were trying to jostle water out of his ears, he shook and turned himself back towards the infirmary.