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[miseardae.livejournal.com]

[the Doctor is in the onsen, looking strikingly different in a Norfolk suit, though he still has his Skonnan gun strapped to side; this is hard to see, however, because he's surrounded by a hoard of ghosts

those who manage to get close enough will see he is utterly expressionless, but this isn't his natural aloofness; no, it's a tense, controlled detachment, and he refuses to look at the particular ghost leading the charge - a young boy, dressed in green and yellow, looking as if he'd been blown apart and pieced back together

as he struggles through the seething, clawing mass, ever growing, he speaks in a tightly calm voice]

Right, then. I suppose I'll bathe elsewhere.


((Feel free to risk the wrath of the MANY, MANY spectres of his long, bloody past! And tell me if you'd prefer a PM or an email, because the Doctor has a nastier Consequence than cake this time.))

Comments

[collector]

[Wrath-wrisking is like this family's favourite pastime. Braxiatel calls over the mass:]

You might try crossing running water. Or am I getting my mythologies confused?

[Also, he has his staser out]


[ooc; and you already know what's up with Brax ♥]

[miseardae.livejournal.com]

[the Doctor stare across the swarm, expression carefully blank, voice careful controlled into something casually wry] They live in an onsen, Braxiatel.

[he begins to force himself forward, never touching the boy staring at him with hollow, accusing eyes]

Regardless, I do believe that's vampires.

[collector]

Is it? My apologies. [Without even the pretence of sentiment, Braxiatel fires into the crowd at the victims to help turn them away from the Doctor. He holds a position at the door - he doesn't need ghosts of his own. What the Doctor might or might not be suffering as far as guilt goes - well, it's not really Braxiatel's concern, is it?]

[The ghosts may not be able to die, but they are capable of changing the direction of their anger.]