Fit the First

[perfect-shoes.livejournal.com]

[Walking, clearly distracted and mumbling to himself. He doesn't seem to notice much of what's around him, and what he does take in seems oddly expected.]

Doors, doors, there're too many doors in this place! First forests I didn't plant, then monkeys I never commissioned to write Hamlet -- I wanted Winter's Tale, damnit, there's that great bit about the bear -- , and then cats trying to trap me in boxes, it's all a bit much, I think. [He looks around, perhaps just realising that this wasn't where he was headed.] Now what is this place. I'm fairly sure I didn't have any of this in the TARDIS before. That's very strange. Usually the cat has answers, but it seems like the curiosity got the better of him. Or I hope so. Unpleasant thing. But there's no voice here either. No voice, no cat. Nothing to guide my way, what, where or when ever that way is. How odd. No, I'm definitely sure this isn't anywhere in my TARDIS.

[Loudly] Hello? Is anyone here? I'm mad. And I need to find a way. Doesn't particularly matter which way, just a way would be fine.

Comments

[marthajonesmd.livejournal.com]

[Martha watches him with a critical eye, wishing she'd done better in psychology - if human psychology even applies to Time Lords, and she's not sure that it does] Sorry, Doctor, I think you've fallen down the wrong rabbit hole.

[perfect-shoes.livejournal.com]

[Psychology fails! Who needs psychology? THE DOCTOR IS ABOVE PSYCHOLOGY. I mean really. Sigmund Freud would be panicking right about now.]

Rabbit hole? Rabbit hole? What rabbit hole? [Realising, but not the way you want him to.]

Oh! The book! [Hey look, it's the Alice Compendium he's got there.] Is that another clue?

[marthajonesmd.livejournal.com]

That...depends. What sort of clues are you looking for? [slight frown] Perhaps you ought to sit down.

[perfect-shoes.livejournal.com]

Clues! About... aaaahhh... me! Yes. And how... how I got here... anti-time... Charley... [Completely ignores the suggestion to sit down.]

No... no... no, no, where's my big shiny ball of something or another? I need my big shiny ball of something or another!

[marthajonesmd.livejournal.com]

[wishing she could examine Eight, even if there probably isn't anything physically wrong with him] Big shiny ball of tinfoil? Or something else? [running a hand through her hair in frustration] What's wrong, Doctor?

[perfect-shoes.livejournal.com]

Time! Positive time! It was my... big shiny ball of positive time! Be-because I... I need, positive-time... it helps me think, it helps me... Now I lost it. No, I can't lose it!

[marthajonesmd.livejournal.com]

[resists the urge to make comments about timey-wimey balls] You...lost a ball of time? [confused look; this is not helping at all]

[perfect-shoes.livejournal.com]

It wasn't exactly... there were rooms... in the TARDIS, little pockets of... positive-time, because, BECAUSE, you see, there can't really be anti-time, without just a little, a little bit of positive time.

[marthajonesmd.livejournal.com]

So not really a ball at all, then. [frown] Is it the anti-time that made you like this?

[perfect-shoes.livejournal.com]

But it looked like a ball. It was very shiny. And pretty. I liked it.

[marthajonesmd.livejournal.com]

All right, so do you have any idea where your ball that isn't really a ball at all might've gone?