realityshifted | (no subject)

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life on mars (d1) sam tyler

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[sets down various weapons as stolen from Minato's under-the-bed armory. It is worth noting that he's chosen to relax at the bar, and that there is an opened bottle of whisky on the counter]

House fire in Kingston upon Hull, six-year-old boy dead. It's considered an accident.

Ethics in altering the past you know as a fact while back in time: discuss.

[drinks from his glass of whisky]

Or don't.

[and another drink!]

A word, Guv.

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If you were in a coma when Manchester imploded, you'd no longer be able to hold up an illusion.

Could be dead, and this is the afterlife.

Mmm, nah. Doesn't work like that. Any other theories?

How do you know it doesn't work like that?

Hm? Oh, good point. Might not work like that for you. Or in your universe. Can't really assume you're from mine in this place. [leans over the bar counter] Think they have tea here?

You could check.

[and hops easily over the bar and starts rummaging through things] Always hard to get a good cuppa in a pub like this. You'd think I'd carry some around in my pockets by now.

[leans over to watch him] That'd be a bit too Mad-Eye of you, wouldn't it?

[looks up with a grin] Rowling! And just a bit, yeah. But what if I'm stuck on in the Third Great Fiijan Empire during the Martin Domain? Then I would be quite glad I had tea in my pockets.

You know what? That sounds like the sort of statement designed to spark questions. I suspect you of making those statements intentionally.

[clicks his tongue and possibly smirking] What? And then get the chance to ramble on and on about things like the Silica Revolt and the Trade of the Winds and Yaqar's Ten while you stare at me, completely captivated by my every word, asking more questions and all that? Sounds just a bit vain.

Sounds just like you, then.

Oi! Now that's just being rude, Sam Tyler. [hums and spins a bottle around] I hope you're not planning on sitting around getting pissed and pondering ethics.

Honest, actually. Nah; the whisky was more for Gene. Did you find tea?

Whenever I'm honest, people say it's rude. And nope! [tosses the bottle, bounces it off his elbow and catches it] Ah well. [slides back over the counter into his seat and sets the bottle down] I wasn't really thirsty anyway.

Then you don't have any tact. [rather impressed by the parlour trick, yes, but he's so not showing it. Or saying it. Doctor doesn't need people to feed his bad habits of showing off!]

[grins and props his head up on the bar] Dunno if you have any, either.

Only for those deserving.

Well now you've just hurt my feelings. Don't think I'll ever recover from that.

I feel horribly guilty about it.

I don't quite believe you. I've been hurt too many times, Sam.

That's what you get for your choice in spouses.

I haven't been married for at least one hundred years, you know.

Well if that doesn't beg for a question...

Ah, well, it was a predestination paradox. History said the princess married a stranger that arrived suddenly to beat out this throne inheritance loophole. And that turned out to be me. Always lovely. She had a wonderful reign.