27 March 2010 @ 09:55 pm
[So apparently the Doctor decided to redesign her TARDIS's interior dimensions while recovering from A Nameless Illness That Shall Remain Unnamed. Of course, in retrospect, she ought to've left that until she was actually 100% because you can't expect genius otherwise.

So basically she made a pig's ear of most of it and has to redo from scratch. That's all right, though, because it gave her a firm excuse to drop off on several planets to pick up components, which naturally led to several cups of tea with interesting people, and also the foiling of a few alien plots.

All in all, a pleasant endeavor. Only the TARDIS has gotten a little more vocal than the Doctor would like about her preferences for her interior dimensions, to the point where she can hardly hear herself think. Naturally, then, the Plane is the best choice, and it only takes her a minute upon entry to find a comfortable tree to rest against, and spread her papers on the ground around her for proper consideration. She quite likes the Cloister Room that Michaelangelo designed, and also Escher's concepts for the general layout. Leonardo da Vinic also has had some really brilliant ideas, but Peitro (25th century illustrator-slash-comedian-slash really brilliant architect) spilled marmalade on it, so that's no good.

It should also be mentioned that the Doctor is wearing a dress, due to a series of events and possibly hijinks. Or maybe it's just her idea of those ratty old shirts and jeans you wear when you're affecting repairs or painting or something. Regardless, it's starting to look a bit stained (grass-stained mostly, though, so that's fine). Finally, because of Conventions of Adorably Distracted, she has a smudge of ink on her nose.]
 
 
lamb_of_gold
27 March 2010 @ 11:04 pm
69  
[In somewhat of a piss-poor attempt to distance himself from certain memories of what occurred around this time last year and thinking too hard on what's happened to his waifu roomie, the kitchen has been taken over by one purple-haired saint. Any dirty dishes in the vicinity, as well as any surfaces have been cleaned. The fridge is somewhat organized. Pots, pans and other utensils lying around have been found homes. There is a large plate of dumplings cooling off on one counter, and now Mu has contented himself with watching a pot of soup boil, a free hand absently working a churn of butter tea.]



I will have to ask Aldebaran what to do when one runs out of menial tasks to accomplish, but knowing him, he'll likely not let me leave until I've eaten my own weight in dinner...[a beat] And certainly not tonight of all nights. Ah well.

[Despite the grousing, there is a note of fondness in his voice.]