Zero-Zero-Two

[ultimateeye]

[there is a few seconds of muffled fumbling before Bradley's face appears on the screen, looking relatively genial]

Evening, all. Starting to feel like a chicken in a coop yet?

[pauses] It's come to my attention that not all of us share the same... basic assumptions, shall we say, regarding what's possible and what's not. So, seeing that we find

Comments

[ultimateeye]

[lets this wash over him]

...yes, there are some people you just don't invite to social events. With us, it was always the Haigerloch twins. Awful people.

How did you get out of your little conundrum, then?

[ultimateeye]

Ah. I'm not certain that has any relevance to our current predicament, somehow, but thankyou.

[bit_impossible]

[genial or not, he certainly can't mistake the signs of what must be a military uniform. still though, he'll reserve judgement for the time being. for now, he continues to look off-screen at the gold coin he received earlier, his legs stretched out on the bench he's sitting on in the malt shop. the CAT rests on the table for easy viewing purposes]

You know, you actually get used to people not knowing who you are after a while. Makes things easier, if you ask me! Especially if people want your autograph. Blimey, it makes it difficult to get anywhere then, and never mind the paparazzi! Might want to think of this as a short holiday from all that there, King.

[glances at the CAT now] As for who I am...[slides his glasses off, tucking them away into his pocket] I'm the Doctor, and I'm a traveller, so I'm not really from anywhere--but I will point out you didn't say where you were from either--and yes, I have. And let me tell you, I was very glad I could actually leave the house I was in.

[ultimateeye]

[the man appears totally at ease with his surroundings, and- Bradley thinks- inappropriately chipper. A red flag goes up in his mind.]

A prison's a prison, no matter the size, and I've no interest in holidaying in a cell. I have work that needs doing back home.

You're the doctor, eh? A doctor of what, exactly?

[bit_impossible]

[shrugs] Actually, as far as prison cell's go, this has got to be the best I've--never mind. Anyway, why would a king need to do work? Don't you have servants and the like to delegate such things to?

[smiles, wondering when he'd get that question] Oh, pretty much everything, basically. I'm not called the Doctor for my health, you know.

[ultimateeye]

King is my name, not my title. You know, I'm thinking of putting that on a badge and wearing it wherever I go in this town.

And your name is... the Doctor. Doctor who, exactly?

[OOC: I'm sorry, I HAD to.]

[tearfulyandere]

[He's smiling shyly, just starting to get used to this strange machine that lets people appear on it randomly.]

Umm.. I'm Raivis Galante Sir.... Where I'm from.. th... that's sort of a hard question though. I'm... I guess right now I'm from Russia...but... I used to be from Latvia... Kind of.

[He's trying very hard not to stutter too badly.]

You say you're a King? Who are you the boss of please?

[he chuckles slightly as he rethinks on the original question though.]

As far as being a chicken in a coup... not really. This place is much bigger than Mr Russia's house. It's kind of nice to be free for a little bit...