(Untitled)

Mar 06, 2011 19:54

Who: The Fifth Doctor and OPEN!
What: A DUDE APPEARS!
When: Day 50!
Where: Town Square!

Does what it says on the tin. )

[log]:, [day 50], the doctor [fifth]

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Comments 6

fucktonofcoffee March 8 2011, 01:58:02 UTC
Debra Morgan was running. She was running because right now if she stopped she was going to fucking fall down and not be able to get back up. Everything of the last couple of days had worn on her, and she looked like complete shit. Below the stolen aviator glasses, there was dark circles below her eyes, and for a Detective who'd been maintaining her Miami glow, her skin was looking rather fucking pale and sallow. Even on Deb's best days, she couldn't be fucking bothered to slap on some make-up, but occasionally on days like this she almost wished she'd had the skill to hide what a piece of shit night she'd been having ( ... )

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a_bit_put_upon March 8 2011, 03:36:01 UTC
His communicator was nowhere to be found on his person. With no TARDIS, no companion to look after, and no way to contact the Admiral (or the man he'd been speaking with only minutes earlier), the Doctor was at a bit of a loss, and had taken to assessing the contents of his pockets.

By the time the young woman approached, a small but impressive array of odds and ends was set out before him, and he was arranging the mass of useless objects as if they were a jigsaw puzzle. Cricket ball and post-it stack in hand, he glanced up, blinking hopefully against the sunlight. That vocabulary could only mean....

"...Miss Parker? Oh!" The moment he realised it wasn't her, he scrambled up, tucking the objects into his pockets and offering his hand. "Terribly sorry. I'm the Doctor; how d'you do?"

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fucktonofcoffee March 8 2011, 04:02:16 UTC
Deb just stared at the at the assortment of bips and baubles that were put out in front of the man. An appraising look moved over his form, and there was no fucking way that all of that could fit in the shit that he was wearing. It was just fucking impossible. She'd heard mention of the puzzles and games that West had once tried using on the people there and wondered if this was something similar. God she fucking hoped not; the last thing she needed right now was to fucking have to try and focus on some shit ( ... )

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a_bit_put_upon March 8 2011, 06:16:44 UTC
"Yes, I've been called that too, on occasion," he replied without missing a beat, unfazed by the inspection. "And I appear to be wearing clothes of some sort." With a cheeky grin, he tucked his hand away when it became apparent the gesture was unnecessary. He then scratched at his head, still vaguely disorientated but getting his bearings and finding his senses again.

"This, ah... this might sound a bit strange, but where are we, exactly, and when?"

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