[001]

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

. . . Oh, this. This. Is. Gorgeous.

No, really, I mean it. I've seen a lot of things -- more things that you'd think I ever would, given my youthful and altogether handsome appearance, -- but this place. Brilliant! So flash! So shiny! Well, they're stars, how could they not be shiny? Although, strictly speaking, stars are more luminous than shiny. But you can't use luminous in an interjection. Too many syllables. Can't be spouting off exclamations of surprise if it takes more than a second. Wouldn't really be surprised, then -- it'd sound too premeditated to be genuine.

So! The shop's the gateway, yeah? Never seen it before today, and I'd figured I'd gotten used to this version of London by now. Still, always did like a little shop, but it feels a bit wrong that it'd be used for sinister purposes like this -- after all, I can't really see this as being positive, the whole kidnapping and displacing thing. I guess you really can't ever trust a salesman. Or a saleswoman. Or a salestwin, as the case might be.

But right, anyway! Sinister little shop leading to a mysterious planetarium taken to an extreme scale? I might be new to this universe, still, but I'm reasonably sure this wouldn't be considered normal.

Now, who wants to offer an explanation before I call for back-up? And you might want to be quick about it -- I like calling for back-up.

Comments

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

Me? Just doing the general running. Around Torchwood, that is. Well, I say "around" -- I mean "for."

What about you, then?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

You work for Torchwood, now?

Blimey. That's just...well...unexpected.

You know. The usual. TARDIS, universe, great big threatening buttons.

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

You could say that again. Wasn't much else I could do, and I reckoned they needed some reforming. Easier to do that from the inside.

[And he sort of figured it out for himself, but he'll ask anyway--] . . . How's Donna, then?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

She's...well. She's with her family. Not quite as interested in traveling these days.

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

. . . Yeah, I thought so.

You on your own, then?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[without malice] Aren't you the clever one?

Yep, me and the TARDIS.

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

Oi, I'm still you, after all.

-- Anything interesting, or are you doing a bit of sight-seeing, being touristy, running about with a camera hanging from your neck?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Well, sort of. Got a good bit of Donna in you, too. I don't think she'd have put it together. Then again, maybe she would've.

Um, no. Not really. General...running around. Blew up a moon, that was different.

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

Yeah, well, you know Donna.

-- Wait, sorry. What'd you go and blow up a moon for?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

That I do.

[um, um...] It was...asbestos.

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

[Completely unconvinced, as well he should be. D8]

Asbestos. You blew up a moon. Because of asbestos.

. . . Oh, you're full of it.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Full of it? Asbestos? I should hope not!

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

[sarcasm, his words are dripping with it.]

You'd have to go and blow yourself up, then.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[with enthusiasm that is anything but sincere]

That would be horrible! I like being me!

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

Oh, and I like you being you, but if you're filled with asbestos, it seems like there's only a few alternatives.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

You're the one who insinuated I was full of asbestos. I could just be full of lunch.

[stomach growls]

Or not.

[doctorate.livejournal.com]

[snerk]

Might want to eat something, you know. Preferably not any insulation.