Doctor Who: The Enemy of My Enemy (IC|Closed)

[Astrolinium]

OOC
London, England
28 August, 2014
6:14 PM

Cherise cocked her head to the side, one eyebrow raised. She peered forward at the bush with considerable intensity. She could swear that she'd seen something move into it. It had looked a bit like a rat, but then, rats didn't flash in the sun that way. It had definitely been metallic. She took a step forward with her right foot and then sighed, shaking her head. It was probably nothing - most things were probably nothing, and you got worse than nothing for making a big deal out of nothing. That's what her mum had always taught her, bless the old crone. Cherise turned around and began to walk up the street towards her home (she had a proper home now, no more living in that awful flat for her), each step punctuated by a click of her shoe's heel against the sidewalk.

Then she stopped. She'd definitely heard rustling behind her. No doubts about it. Cherise turned slowly and took a good, hard look at the bush once more. Aside from the fact that Mr. Johnson desperately needed to give it a good trim, it seemed an extremely ordinary bush. Shaking her head again, Cherise turned back around and kept walking for a good couple of metres. This time she stopped because of a different noise. A little metallic whirring coming out of the alleyway off to her right. A bit like the noise a computer fan sometimes makes, but significantly more sinister. She supposed that was because it was a bit deeper in pitch than her computer's fan.

Cherise sighed, now resigned to the fact that she was definitely going to be making a big deal out of what was probably nothing today. She turned to her right and - not without a good measure of caution - walked into the alleyway.

"Hello?" she called out, "is someone here?" Her accent betrayed her origins - she had been born and raised in Liverpool and had only moved to London a year or two ago for a job. It was a nice job, as jobs went, but banking was quite stressful work. Still - she was learning to be quite observant thanks to the job. One couldn't be too careful when dealing with money.

It didn't take extraordinary powers of observation for Cherise to hear the last sounds she would ever hear. There was an awful, grating, metallic voice. It was shouting, and it hardly sounded human at all.

It said, "EXTERMINATE."

There was a flash of light and Cherise's shopping fell to the ground. A small silvery thing, not unlike a metal rat, scurried out from behind a trash can and began investigating the contents of the bags.

            The Enemy of My Enemy
             New Faces

London, England
10 October, 2014
7:28 PM

It was a Friday evening and London was as busy as ever. The hustle and bustle of the ancient city showed no signs of slowing down as the sky grew darker and the night air grew colder. There was, of course, the threat of rain, but rain did little to perturb the English. Rain drops were hardly the worst thing to ever fall from the sky over London. And they were far from the only thing that would fall out of the sky tonight. A familiar visitor was returning to London tonight, though he had changed quite a bit since he was last in town.

As the first drops began to fall by an unassuming pub in Islington, a curious sound emanated softly from the sky directly above it. A perception filter kept everyone from noticing it - you would only have known it was there if you had been listening for it. And tonight, none of the people who spent every night listening for that sound were by the pub in Islington. It was a wheezing sound. A grating, whirring sound. An alien sound. The sound of a Type 40 TARDIS with the parking brakes on.

The TARDIS materialized out of thin air ten metres above the pub's roof. It dropped from the sky like a stone, hit the roof with a thud, and slid off, landing on its side in the alleyway behind the building. Not even the perception filter would mask that racket.

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Ow!" exclaimed a man who you should all recognize, the Eleventh Doctor, as the TARDIS control panel went up in sparks (it was prone to do that, he had never known why - perhaps the sparklers), "You don't have to snap at me like that!"

It is important to note that he was addressing the control panel when he said this - he was shouting at the TARDIS, and, if the other flurry of sparks were not coincidental, it had responded. Completely impossible, many would assume, but after a thousand years of marriage, you develop your own language that doesn't require any words (which was good, because the TARDIS couldn't talk).

Suddenly, the Doctor was overcome by spasms, and fell to his side with a weird jerky motion that only Matt Smith could possibly do. He fell onto a blue lever, which moved to the right (even though it was a lever that went up and down), causing the floor of the TARDIS to tip to the right ten degrees. Come to think of it, the Doctor didn't even know why such a lever existed, but he also felt it was vitally important to the survival of space and time, so he didn't touch it. But then, he felt the same way about the microwave in the kitchenette.

"Ah-ah-ow!" he gasped, suddenly throwing his head into his shoulder and scrunching his face up in pain, "Alright, never fly the TARDIS while regenerating. Unless you've got somewhere to be!"

He crumbled to the ground with a loud groan, writhing on the floor as his body began to emit a soft white light.

"Listen!" he called out to his companion, who may have just been a hallucination (he was an old man, and also dying), "There are three very, very important things I need you to remember for me, because I forget sometimes, and when I forget things get very, very bad."

He was then overcome by seizures, causing his body to buckle and fold. In labored breaths, he resumed, "First, time is not the boss of me... us, it's a bit complicated."

He suddenly shook violently and threw his head to the side.

"REVERSE THE POLARITY OF THE NEUTRON FLOW!" he shouted in a deep Received Pronounciation accent, before returning to his original accent and smacking himself in the head with his wrists, "No! Bad! New, not old!

Second! Always look back. It isn't fun, but it's good for the universe. Keeps us in check."

He spasmed once more and coughed heavily, releasing a jet of white light.

"That's not cricket," he gagged as he pounded his fist into his (right) heart, "Third, finally, and most important of all... apples. They're rubbish. Don't let me eat any apples."

With that, the Eleventh Doctor was overcome by blinding light and, his death accompanied by screams of intense pain and effort, he changed. It was barely noticeable at first, but the light quickly dimmed into non-existence, revealing a new man underneath.

This new man bolted upright and ran his hands up his body, starting at his feet, a terrible grimace overcoming his face. He eventually came to settle at the bow-tie, which lead to out-right revulsion.

"Now, this is rubbish," he spat bitterly in a low, hoarse voice, accented similarly to the voice of the man the Doctor had seemingly been overtaken by moments from his death. He ripped the bow-tie from his neck and thoughtlessly discarded it on the TARDIS floor.

"Well, that's disappointing," he sighed, pulling himself to his feet with the TARDIS console, "Let's do it again. I want sexy, not geriatric!"

He then caught a look of himself in one of the many reflective surfaces on the TARDIS panel that had no purpose besides being absolutely vital for the universe's continuance.

"Never mind, I'll take both," he said with a coy smile, "This outfit will have to go, though. Quite a quack, my predecessor. Insufferable man, how did she tolerate him?"

Whether "she" was anyone the Doctor knew or the TARDIS itself is unknown to this very day.

"Please fetch me an apple, dear," the Doctor requested absentmindedly, absorbed wholly by vanity.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

"The Jews should go to hell. Amish too. Fuck them." muttered a fat American man, tasked with cleaning the tables. He was an actor, but it turned out his movie wasn't even happening. It had been cancelled. So now he was at a bar in the UK, trying to get enough money for a return trip. Struggling actors weren't paid much, as it turned out. And he hadn't bothered to buy a plane ticket, because this would be a good movie...if it had happened.

So now this pub, owned by a gay American couple. Jon and Eli. Fuck those guys. They probably made gay porn on the side and it probably ended up in the hands of some pervert.

But anyway, moving on. Time for the plot. Richard heard a sudden bang on the ceiling. Quite a considerable one, in fact. So he did the normal thing and ran outside, seeing...a phone booth. Surprising instrument to fall out of the sky, to be certain.

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Well, this got boring quickly," the Doctor sighed, 'I like the tweed, but the rest I abhor. And no vest? What kind of classless wag wears a suit with no vest? Moronic, that man. Absolutely moronic. I'm quite honestly surprised he didn't blow you up, dear.

...Oh, yes. He did. Lovely. Absolutely lovely. Well, I'll be back in a moment, dear. I'm going to go change into some proper clothes and then get a breath of fresh hair. Get our bearings. Maybe kill a horrible monster from the murky depths of space and time. The usual. I'll be back for dinner."

The Doctor spun around and marched off to one of the innumerable rooms in the TARDIS, emerging several moments later properly groomed and wearing a suit not dissimilar to that of the Eleventh, though with a large blue cravat in the place of a bow-tie. Hanging from his right pocket was a bronze fob-watch, engraved with bizarre runes that none, not even the TARDIS, could translate. Except the Doctor, of course, but he didn't count when it came to possibility and probability.

"Greetings, Londoners," the Doctor said politely as he emerged from the TARDIS, carefully using his body and the doors to conceal the TARDIS' innards (didn't want to scare anyone), "or at least I assume this is London. It, more often that not, is."

The Doctor removed a pair of glasses from the inner pocket of his coat and slipped them onto his nose, making him a little bit more Albus Dumbledore than Nikolai Tesla. Whether he wore them because he needed them, to play up the fragile old man act, or because they accentuated the crystal blue he was already quite proud of, no one will ever know. But it was quite clearly the third one.

"You all look human, at least," he said, "and given the sardonic looks I'm receiving, quite British. Except you, good sir, you smell American."

The Doctor pointed towards Richard when he said this.

"New York, with a hint of... Kuwait?" the Doctor continued, "Given then your age, would it be reasonable to assume this is the year 2014? August the 29th, perhaps... no! The 28th. Apologies, I'm getting a bit rusty."

The Doctor clapped his hands together and held them within each other, giving Richard an expectant look. Clearly, he wanted confirmation that he was correct.

[Ende]

One moment, Sydney was in the shower.

The next moment, Sydney was on the ceiling of the shower.

Needless to say, that was just a little bit disconcerting. Actually, "a little bit disconcerting" was really somewhat of an understatement. One moment, Sydney was singing in the shower as the water poured down, and then, the next moment, she found herself on the sprawled on the ground, next to the shower head, which was spraying water up in the air like a fountain. She supposed that, actually, she was sprawled in the ceiling.

As she brushed her sopping hair out of her eyes, she realized that whether she was on the ceiling or the floor wasn't really important, but the fact that the whole bathroom had flipped upside down probably was. Kicking open the door of the shower (and stubbing her toes in the process), she stumbled her way over to a towel, threw it on, and then headed out of the bathroom. Turning around, she realized that the electric hair-dryer was probably a bit too close to the shower head, but that wasn't a problem.

Then, the TARDIS hallway flipped itself over again, and unceremoniously dumped her in a heap on the floor. The hallway proceeded to shake as if it was in the middle of an earthquake, which, seeing as the madman was probably steering his machine through the midst of time itself, really was probably a proper reaction. She stumbled to her feet, clutching the towel, and then heard an explosion of sparks and plastic from the bathroom. Several chunks of glass flew out of the door, and one stuck in the wall with a thud.

Sydney sighed. Three thousand years of progress, and humanity still had hair dryers that exploded. They had invented space travel, marvels of engineering, and they were even on the verge of time travel itself, and yet nobody had thought to make a hair dryer that didn't combust in water.

She would have thought about it some more, but the hallway flung her on the ground again. Scowling, she pulled the towel on again, straightened up, and brushed her hair out of her eyes for the second time in the last minute. She really should have expected the flipping shower. After all - she was travelling with a madman with a unregistered time travel machine of some sort. It was quite incredible, actually. This was leaps and bounds beyond anything humanity had ever achieved. She had heard of the Time Agency and how through the last hundred years of progress, they had actually managed to create a somewhat functional time-travelling device, but that was simple compared to this thing. It was even bigger on the inside than on the outside. She still wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

Of course, really, she wasn't quite sure what to make of the man himself. She had merely been stranded on Tivoli, and then, suddenly, out of nowhere, it had been invaded by genocidal Hath raiders. She had been running for cover, away from the battlefield, when she met him. It wasn't really so much "she had met him" as "she had crashed directly into him as she ran", but, really, with the madman, it didn't matter much. At the time, she was mildly surprised to have ran into a spontaneously materializing...what was it disguised as anyway, a police box? Those hadn't been around for a few millenia. And then, he had stumbled out. A nonsensical looking man, really. Bow ties hadn't been in style since the forty-third century, and she didn't even know what that ridiculous hat on his head was.

And then, he had proceeded to grab her by the arm and yank her along on the most ridiculous escapade of her life. Somehow, this one man had managed to disable the shields on every single Hath ship, and then, miraculously, orchestrate a peace treaty in between the spineless Tivolians and the piscine Hath. It was ridiculous - the Tivolians and Hath were polar opposites, and yet, as of the 52nd century, they had a peace treaty.

Really, she wasn't quite sure what she had done, or why this genius was bringing her along. The man had just grabbed her by the arm and told her to follow whatever he told her to do. She had, of course. Convincing the Tivolians to lower their planetary shields and seek diplomacy was rather easy, honestly, but the man seemed impressed anyway. Of course, she hadn't done a thing compared to him. Negotiating with the Hath? Ridiculous. The Hath were civilized, but rather ruthless at times, and the Tivolians had a long history with them. And yet, this man managed to make them put their differences aside and work things out. It was absurd.

And then, after the chaos, he had came back and told her that she had done fantastically and that he wanted her to come with him. Of course, she was horribly confused at the time, but, on the other hand, he was offering a ride off the planet, and that was good enough for her. He was really a nice fellow, no doubt about that, but he was really a few parts away from a full spaceship. Not to mention that he looked odd, but, of course, really, it was the 52nd century. Looking odd wasn't uncommon.

He wasn't really human, actually. Owning something bigger on the inside than the outside? A time travel machine? The way he spoke, and the way he acted...he was definitely something different. Of course, she hadn't talked with him for that long. They did have a few hours of conversation, but it wasn't about anything important. It was mainly the man rambling along about things she didn't quite understand. Of course, she pretended to understand, because, really, it was polite, but he didn't seem to realize that she had no clue, and she had been there for hours. After that, she had headed off to the showers....

And now, she was in an upside-down hallway, soaking wet, and poorly wrapped in a towel. Shakily, she brought herself to her feet, managed to make her way into the bathroom again, avoiding the smoking ruins of the hairdryer, and she grabbed and threw on a bathrobe, and then made her way to the main control room of the...what had he called it, again? Sexy? That probably wasn't the actual name of the craft. She looked around for...what was his name again? He hadn't actually told her his real name. He had just said that he was "The Doctor", but, really, nobody went around calling themselves something like "The Doctor", right?

Remembering the conversation she had had earlier, she suddenly realized that he probably did go around calling himself "The Doctor" or something like that. Looking around, she didn't see anything. Walking around the central area, she didn't see anything...and then she looked down. Ah, there was his bow tie. He was probably around here somewhere. Pulling the bathrobe on properly, she swung the door of the spacecraft open and came face to face with...an old man? That wasn't who she had expected. Continuing to look around, she saw a somewhat overweight man standing behind the old man. That wasn't who she was looking for, though.

She swung her head back and forth for a few moments, and then moved her dripping hair out of her eyes yet again.

"Hey, mind if I ask you a question real quick?" she said to the old man, continuing to look around. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. Well, to be honest, he's more of an acquaintance, really, as we didn't really get the time to meet very well, but, anyway, that's not important. Seen him around? He's got a tweed jacket that really looks quite a bit like yours, and -"

She held the bow tie up.

"I've never seen him without this. Anyway, he should be around here somewhere. Know where he is?"

[Nationstatelandsville]

One moment, Sydney was in the shower.

The next moment, Sydney was on the ceiling of the shower.

Needless to say, that was just a little bit disconcerting. Actually, "a little bit disconcerting" was really somewhat of an understatement. One moment, Sydney was singing in the shower as the water poured down, and then, the next moment, she found herself on the sprawled on the ground, next to the shower head, which was spraying water up in the air like a fountain. She supposed that, actually, she was sprawled in the ceiling.

As she brushed her sopping hair out of her eyes, she realized that whether she was on the ceiling or the floor wasn't really important, but the fact that the whole bathroom had flipped upside down probably was. Kicking open the door of the shower (and stubbing her toes in the process), she stumbled her way over to a towel, threw it on, and then headed out of the bathroom. Turning around, she realized that the electric hair-dryer was probably a bit too close to the shower head, but that wasn't a problem.

Then, the TARDIS hallway flipped itself over again, and unceremoniously dumped her in a heap on the floor. The hallway proceeded to shake as if it was in the middle of an earthquake, which, seeing as the madman was probably steering his machine through the midst of time itself, really was probably a proper reaction. She stumbled to her feet, clutching the towel, and then heard an explosion of sparks and plastic from the bathroom. Several chunks of glass flew out of the door, and one stuck in the wall with a thud.

Sydney sighed. Three thousand years of progress, and humanity still had hair dryers that exploded. They had invented space travel, marvels of engineering, and they were even on the verge of time travel itself, and yet nobody had thought to make a hair dryer that didn't combust in water.

She would have thought about it some more, but the hallway flung her on the ground again. Scowling, she pulled the towel on again, straightened up, and brushed her hair out of her eyes for the second time in the last minute. She really should have expected the flipping shower. After all - she was travelling with a madman with a unregistered time travel machine of some sort. It was quite incredible, actually. This was leaps and bounds beyond anything humanity had ever achieved. She had heard of the Time Agency and how through the last hundred years of progress, they had actually managed to create a somewhat functional time-travelling device, but that was simple compared to this thing. It was even bigger on the inside than on the outside. She still wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

Of course, really, she wasn't quite sure what to make of the man himself. She had merely been stranded on Tivoli, and then, suddenly, out of nowhere, it had been invaded by genocidal Hath raiders. She had been running for cover, away from the battlefield, when she met him. It wasn't really so much "she had met him" as "she had crashed directly into him as she ran", but, really, with the madman, it didn't matter much. At the time, she was mildly surprised to have ran into a spontaneously materializing...what was it disguised as anyway, a police box? Those hadn't been around for a few millenia. And then, he had stumbled out. A nonsensical looking man, really. Bow ties hadn't been in style since the forty-third century, and she didn't even know what that ridiculous hat on his head was.

And then, he had proceeded to grab her by the arm and yank her along on the most ridiculous escapade of her life. Somehow, this one man had managed to disable the shields on every single Hath ship, and then, miraculously, orchestrate a peace treaty in between the spineless Tivolians and the piscine Hath. It was ridiculous - the Tivolians and Hath were polar opposites, and yet, as of the 52nd century, they had a peace treaty.

Really, she wasn't quite sure what she had done, or why this genius was bringing her along. The man had just grabbed her by the arm and told her to follow whatever he told her to do. She had, of course. Convincing the Tivolians to lower their planetary shields and seek diplomacy was rather easy, honestly, but the man seemed impressed anyway. Of course, she hadn't done a thing compared to him. Negotiating with the Hath? Ridiculous. The Hath were civilized, but rather ruthless at times, and the Tivolians had a long history with them. And yet, this man managed to make them put their differences aside and work things out. It was absurd.

And then, after the chaos, he had came back and told her that she had done fantastically and that he wanted her to come with him. Of course, she was horribly confused at the time, but, on the other hand, he was offering a ride off the planet, and that was good enough for her. He was really a nice fellow, no doubt about that, but he was really a few parts away from a full spaceship. Not to mention that he looked odd, but, of course, really, it was the 52nd century. Looking odd wasn't uncommon.

He wasn't really human, actually. Owning something bigger on the inside than the outside? A time travel machine? The way he spoke, and the way he acted...he was definitely something different. Of course, she hadn't talked with him for that long. They did have a few hours of conversation, but it wasn't about anything important. It was mainly the man rambling along about things she didn't quite understand. Of course, she pretended to understand, because, really, it was polite, but he didn't seem to realize that she had no clue, and she had been there for hours. After that, she had headed off to the showers....

And now, she was in an upside-down hallway, soaking wet, and poorly wrapped in a towel. Shakily, she brought herself to her feet, managed to make her way into the bathroom again, avoiding the smoking ruins of the hairdryer, and she grabbed and threw on a bathrobe, and then made her way to the main control room of the...what had he called it, again? Sexy? That probably wasn't the actual name of the craft. She looked around for...what was his name again? He hadn't actually told her his real name. He had just said that he was "The Doctor", but, really, nobody went around calling themselves something like "The Doctor", right?

Remembering the conversation she had had earlier, she suddenly realized that he probably did go around calling himself "The Doctor" or something like that. Looking around, she didn't see anything. Walking around the central area, she didn't see anything...and then she looked down. Ah, there was his bow tie. He was probably around here somewhere. Pulling the bathrobe on properly, she swung the door of the spacecraft open and came face to face with...an old man? That wasn't who she had expected. Continuing to look around, she saw a somewhat overweight man standing behind the old man. That wasn't who she was looking for, though.

She swung her head back and forth for a few moments, and then moved her dripping hair out of her eyes yet again.

"Hey, mind if I ask you a question real quick?" she said to the old man, continuing to look around. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. Well, to be honest, he's more of an acquaintance, really, as we didn't really get the time to meet very well, but, anyway, that's not important. Seen him around? He's got a tweed jacket that really looks quite a bit like yours, and -"

She held the bow tie up.

"I've never seen him without this. Anyway, he should be around here somewhere. Know where he is?"

"Oh, hello, Sydney!" the Doctor said cheerily, "Uh, this is my assistant, Sydney. Well, my new assistant. Old one, the tweed guy, he quit. Spontaneously. Quite of an idiot, don't miss him. I'm the Doctor, by the way."

He took the bow-tie from her hands and pocketed it.

"And that," he resumed, "was my bow-tie. Or, it currently is. Soon enough, it will be my pile of ash. Horrid things, bow-ties. Whoever invented them clearly had no sense of fashion or comfort - likely a Da- li Lama. But then, I'm not a doctor of history. Are there doctors of history? I don't know, I'm not one, but I assume - I really shouldn't assume.

Anyhow, Sydney, we'll discuss the retirement of your friend later, and your current employment with myself. I should let you know, though, you have a lot to live up to - my assistants past have been quite amazing. You'd be surprised what can accomplished with a baseball bat and sheer tenacity.

For now, however, we have friends to greet."

The Doctor noticed that a majority of the crowd had dispersed, leaving behind only the American.

"...Friend," he said, "Once again, I'm the Doctor. Nice to meet you, sir."

He extended his hand to Richard.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Richard paused, extending a hand to shake. "You know...England is just weird." He said, taking out a cigar and lighting it up. "I honestly didn't expect it to start raining men. I understand that the Netherlands has some bars where that is a common activity, however- the owners of that pub regularly honeymoon there." He said by way of explanation, in case this "Doctor" had some ideas. He seemed like a fabulous chap in many uses of the term.

Speaking of which..."Doctor Who?" he asked. "I myself have a degree in biomedical engineering. Never made to doctor though. Or maybe you're some sort of-" Richard paused. "My God. You're a method actor, aren't you? A regular Daniel Day Lewis. I damn admire you for sticking to character. I'd ask what movie you're going to be in, but I know a man like you would never break character to tell me."

[Nationstatelandsville]

Richard paused, extending a hand to shake. "You know...England is just weird." He said, taking out a cigar and lighting it up. "I honestly didn't expect it to start raining men. I understand that the Netherlands has some bars where that is a common activity, however- the owners of that pub regularly honeymoon there." He said by way of explanation, in case this "Doctor" had some ideas. He seemed like a fabulous chap in many uses of the term.

Speaking of which..."Doctor Who?" he asked. "I myself have a degree in biomedical engineering. Never made to doctor though. Or maybe you're some sort of-" Richard paused. "My God. You're a method actor, aren't you? A regular Daniel Day Lewis. I damn admire you for sticking to character. I'd ask what movie you're going to be in, but I know a man like you would never break character to tell me."

"Exactly," the Doctor said with a bit of smile. Trenzalore, what vivid memories that you'll not hear of.

"And, anyhow, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about," the Doctor resumed, only partly lying. Method actor doing stunts was a much better excuse than the one he had planned out - a traveling theater troupe and hallucinogens in Richard's morning coffee (whether this meant he would go backwards in time and put hallucinogens in Richard's morning coffee, or lie and tell him that he had, was beyond even the Doctor to discern; he thought a lot of thoughts, didn't always have time to attach meaning to them).

"I'm a doctor from out of town and this is my spaceship," the Doctor continued, perhaps enjoying himself a bit too much, "I have a degree in just about everything that isn't Divinity, failed the final when I called Lucifer 'sympathetic' and God 'a stodgy old coot'. Also got expelled, but then, you should never scream that kind of thing at a Catholic university. In front of the Pope. Well, technically I wasn't a student, just broke in. The Pope had a parasite on his neck that was turning him into a praying mantis, the eighth last insect you want to be turned into, including arachnids. The first is a dung beetle.

I saved him, by the way, so don't go looking for that in the history books."

The Doctor removed his fob watch and checked the time, before hiding it away. Sydney had caught a glimpse of it (just as the Doctor intended), and her head was likely spinning over the fact that had eleven faces, none of which actually had numbers, existed in about twice as many dimensions as it should have, and played reruns of Blackadder every fifth Thursday at second midnight, whatever that was.

"I was right, by the way," the Doctor concluded with a mild amount of self-satisfaction, "I always am.

Now, Richard, it seems I've come here for a reason - the old girl..."

He affectionately patted the TARDIS.

"...never takes us anywhere without a reason," he said, "Have you seen or heard any things lately? Interesting things, not boring things, like who's diddling who - unless one of the diddlers is an alien, robot, ghost, or from another time period. You should have seen Henry V and Shakespeare; sparks. Some literal. Never allowed back in Chicago."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Richard shrugged. "It's London. Always something weird going on. I heard Phillip started making racist jokes again. The Sun called Nick Clegg a cunt and made homoerotic fanfiction of him and Cameron. Oh, and weird people have been here. People coming out of the bathroom after I saw them leave the pub, strange noises which I originally figured was just from the owners, but I doubt they'd make four knock bumps so often, so on. But nothing big and it never happens often."

[Nationstatelandsville]

Richard shrugged. "It's London. Always something weird going on. I heard Phillip started making racist jokes again. The Sun called Nick Clegg a cunt and made homoerotic fanfiction of him and Cameron. Oh, and weird people have been here. People coming out of the bathroom after I saw them leave the pub, strange noises which I originally figured was just from the owners, but I doubt they'd make four knock bumps so often, so on. But nothing big and it never happens often."

"Right, well, if that's all..." the Doctor said, slightly downtrodden. He had already dealt with all of those problems - or would. Might even be doing it as they spoke. He wasn't sure, time was confusing, and he very rarely paid attention to dates relative to Earth-time; it was quite confusing to convert calendars from another planet orbiting another sun in a completely different period of time and, occasionally, reality. He didn't have the patience for it, and didn't particularly care.

"Good talk," the Doctor said, rummaging in his pockets, "Insightful. Absolutely insightful. I'm afraid it seems I've left something inside my craft, however. I'll be back straight away. Sirrah, madam, feel free to discuss humany-wumany things for the time being - feetball, I believe you call it."

The Doctor disappeared back into the TARDIS, closing the door before Richard could see it. He locked it, so as to keep Sydney out - for now. Didn't need to see this.

"GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" the Doctor screamed, though the sound did not exit the TARDIS. He crumbled to his knees, extending his arms to their fullest, and released a bright burst of regenerative energy. He whimpered in pain and fell into the fetal position, grimacing.

"Not a pleasant one, this," he whispered softly to himself. He shivered, inexplicably freezing on the lower half of his body, and boiling hot on the top. Regenerations - each one was different, each one more miserable than the last.

The Doctor vomited. A lot. Some expert aim managed to keep it off of his suit, however. He stood up and flipped a switch on the TARDIS, which promptly disintegrated the bile, as well as a small plutoid that no one would miss, anyways. Just above the switch, the Doctor found the object of his search - his sonic screwdriver, hand-built by his prior incarnation, when a nearly fatal encounter with a Sensorite destroyed his old one. The Twelfth felt it was more his than the Eleventh's - the Eleventh had felt the same.

He began to man the TARDIS controls, his style of doing so much more gentle and practiced than his predecessors - he treated the TARDIS more like a wife than a machine. He attempted to pilot it to Skaro (London was boring), but... nothing. The TARDIS refused his commands. It wanted him to stay, for some reason.

"Fine," he sighed, pocketing the screwdriver. He then made his way into the wardrobe and grabbed a dusty, old umbrella that he would produce to justify his absence - he didn't want Richard to ask about what he needed to grab (the screwdriver), nor did he want Sydney to know about his regenerative difficulties. He'd hate to worry her.

"I really should use the Zero Room," he muttered to himself, suddenly overcome by tremors, which he conquered by using the umbrella as a cane, "but I'm loathe to give the girl a heart attack."

He made his way outside the TARDIS, unfurling the umbrella and holding it over his head. In order to compensate, he leaned casually against the phone box. Hopefully, his condition would not worsen.

"Always bring an umbrella to London," he said, "Tell me, then, Sydney - have you ever wanted to see the Thames?"

He turned to Richard.

"You could come if you like," he said, "Could always use the company. Also, I have no idea how to get there from here."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Richard paused. "...Just where exactly will we be going?" he asked cautiously. "I make a general point to be sure of my destination. Last time I went with random strangers, I ended up in Kuwait. So a bit of an explanation would be pleasant." He paused. "Eh. Screw it, I'm an old fuck, might as well go, not like I have much to do. Just tell me there won't be much exercise involved. I hate running."

[Nationstatelandsville]

Richard paused. "...Just where exactly will we be going?" he asked cautiously. "I make a general point to be sure of my destination. Last time I went with random strangers, I ended up in Kuwait. So a bit of an explanation would be pleasant." He paused. "Eh. Screw it, I'm an old fuck, might as well go, not like I have much to do. Just tell me there won't be much exercise involved. I hate running."

"Oh, just down to the river," the Doctor said with a nod, "perhaps farther later. I apparently want to explore London."

He glared at the TARDIS as he said this.

"Anyhow," he said, "not very far, I imagine, though I could be wrong. I've not been down to this area of London in a while. I try my best to avoid this city if I can - bad things tend to happen when London and I mix. Though, to be fair, bad things happen whenever I mix with anywhere."

He gestured with his free hand down the street.

"Please lead on," he requested.

[Ende]

Sydney looked blankly at the madman for a few moments.

"I'm in a bathrobe."

For a few moments, she glared at him, and then sighed.

"I don't really know what the Thames is. And, ey, London? Isn't that one of the areas on the legendary Starship U.K? That's incredible. We seriously went that far back? And, hey, we're legitimately in the past now? And, ey, what's this about me being in your employment? I thought I was just getting a ride. Of course, knowing you, I honestly doubt that matters. Or if there's even a difference. And...I'm still in a bathrobe."

She shook her head in disbelief for a few moments, and then shrugged.

"Ah, I've been in worse situations. Let's go to the Thames. It sounds like a pretty decent establishment. Let's go, shall we?" she said, and she wrapped her arms around Richard and the madman.

[Astrolinium]

Just then, one of the pub's owners stepped outside. The man was rather short, and he sported stylish sideburns running down his face. He stared for a moment, blinking at the sight that greeted him. Then he shook his head and muttered, "Brits." under his breath. His accent immediately painted him as being painfully American. He sighed and placed one hand on his hip, using the other to support himself as he leaned in the doorway. There was a fedora on his head.

He said, "Richard, get back in here; your shift isn't over yet." and then looked at the other people. He shook his head again and muttered, "The two haven't even been inside yet and they're already knocking phone boxes over. It's 2014, why is there even a phone box outside my pub?"

Then, rather derisively, he added, "Brits." and disappeared back into the pub.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Just then, one of the pub's owners stepped outside. The man was rather short, and he sported stylish sideburns running down his face. He stared for a moment, blinking at the sight that greeted him. Then he shook his head and muttered, "Brits." under his breath. His accent immediately painted him as being painfully American. He sighed and placed one hand on his hip, using the other to support himself as he leaned in the doorway. There was a fedora on his head.

He said, "Richard, get back in here; your shift isn't over yet." and then looked at the other people. He shook his head again and muttered, "The two haven't even been inside yet and they're already knocking phone boxes over. It's 2014, why is there even a phone box outside my pub?"

Then, rather derisively, he added, "Brits." and disappeared back into the pub.

"Well, he sounds pleasant," the Doctor said with a slight grimace, "Nice hat, though. I should like one like that."

He sighed loudly (and quite dramatically - there's nothing the Doctor loved more than theater, except maybe monsters), grabbing Richard's hand and shaking it enthusiastically.

"I'm afraid this seems to be our good-bye," he said, "Good Sydney and I must be on our way to the uh... set, and you seem to busy with your job at this lovely establishment. We'd love to stay and eat, but I'm allergic to cheese and someone seems to have eaten a fast food hamburger nearby within the past sixty years; yep, I can feel my throat closing already.

Come on, Sydney!"

He spun around and marched into the TARDIS, which was having none of this tomfoolery. The engines growled and the control panel sizzled, letting out an annoyed pop! when the Doctor entered. He looked on pleadingly at the control panel, but he received no reply.

"Fine!" the Doctor spat, rather like a spoiled child, and stamped his foot to the ground. He twirled back around and exited the TARDIS, hurriedly explaining away his abscence.

"On second thought," he said, "I took my medication before landing. Hypochondriac, me. We'd love to have a spot of tea here. Well, not tea, not for me. Tea tastes like nasty leaf-water. Do you have any good leaf-water? The Spiridons used to make this lovely brew out of eye-plants, or perhaps will, I'm not sure about the chronology of it all."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Just then, one of the pub's owners stepped outside. The man was rather short, and he sported stylish sideburns running down his face. He stared for a moment, blinking at the sight that greeted him. Then he shook his head and muttered, "Brits." under his breath. His accent immediately painted him as being painfully American. He sighed and placed one hand on his hip, using the other to support himself as he leaned in the doorway. There was a fedora on his head.

He said, "Richard, get back in here; your shift isn't over yet." and then looked at the other people. He shook his head again and muttered, "The two haven't even been inside yet and they're already knocking phone boxes over. It's 2014, why is there even a phone box outside my pub?"

Then, rather derisively, he added, "Brits." and disappeared back into the pub.

With some grumpiness, Richard sighed. "Fuck. I have a job. Yeah, sorry guys. I'll have to skip out on this one." He walked back inside the pub, where a patron was busy getting utterly drunk. The Indian man glanced up and staggered over to the Doctor and Sydney. Admittedly, he was walking over to the girl in the bathrobe more than the weird eccentric man, though the eccentric man could be worth a potential try depending on his general mood.

He glanced at the girl in the bathroom. "My name's Krishna." He said in a decided mix of Indian and British English, sounding as though he had learned the language from movies and classes. "You guys want a drink? I have money. Mine. I think. Some of it probably was." The unspoken words here included "And I want to fuck your face."

[Nationstatelandsville]

Just then, one of the pub's owners stepped outside. The man was rather short, and he sported stylish sideburns running down his face. He stared for a moment, blinking at the sight that greeted him. Then he shook his head and muttered, "Brits." under his breath. His accent immediately painted him as being painfully American. He sighed and placed one hand on his hip, using the other to support himself as he leaned in the doorway. There was a fedora on his head.

He said, "Richard, get back in here; your shift isn't over yet." and then looked at the other people. He shook his head again and muttered, "The two haven't even been inside yet and they're already knocking phone boxes over. It's 2014, why is there even a phone box outside my pub?"

Then, rather derisively, he added, "Brits." and disappeared back into the pub.

With some grumpiness, Richard sighed. "Fuck. I have a job. Yeah, sorry guys. I'll have to skip out on this one." He walked back inside the pub, where a patron was busy getting utterly drunk. The Indian man glanced up and staggered over to the Doctor and Sydney. Admittedly, he was walking over to the girl in the bathrobe more than the weird eccentric man, though the eccentric man could be worth a potential try depending on his general mood.

He glanced at the girl in the bathroom. "My name's Krishna." He said in a decided mix of Indian and British English, sounding as though he had learned the language from movies and classes. "You guys want a drink? I have money. Mine. I think. Some of it probably was." The unspoken words here included "And I want to fuck your face."

The Doctor's Captain Jack Harkness alarms blared into life, and he grimaced. This new incarnation was, well, a bit of a prude. He was quite an old man, after all. Besides, the Indian was quite obviously drunk, and he did not necessarily trust Sydney to make the best choices at the moment. She was in a whole new world, a new time, and likely feeling rather brave about the whole thing. And bravery lead easily into stupidity, as the Doctor knew better than any other.

"No thank you, sir," the Doctor said warmly, though it was hindered by concern, as he placed his hands on her shoulders like a father, "We've had quite enough already - and I can see that you have as well. Perhaps a reprieve, yes?"

The Doctor shepherded Sydney towards the bar, sitting her down and grinning like the mad trickster god he was at the bar's owner.

"Hello, good sirrah!" he boomed enthusiastically, "I'm the Doctor. Tell me, has anything bizarre happened recently?"

The Doctor was desperately searching for something to happen. The longer he was in London, the more likely that it would explode.

[Astrolinium]

The bar's owner smiled affably at this strange elderly gentleman. Grabbing a rag, he began to wipe down the counter as he said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Doctor." He paused for a minute, thinking about the man's question, and continued, "Well, Jonny's been a bit shy about using the chains for lovemaking lately, which is odd because he's the one who got me to liking them in the first place, and I just..."

He paused midsentence and pursed his lips. "That's really not what you meant, was it? Well, I suppose there've been a few occurrences of a more... supernatural sort." He hummed softly and then leaned in close to the Doctor. When he spoke, it was a stage whisper.

"I could swear I've been seeing double some nights. People leave the pub and then come right out of the bathroom. Just before sunrise, when the pub's been closed, sometimes I'll hear bumps coming down from the lower floors - even after Richard broke up with his... lady-friend. And people don't make those kinds of noises bumping around with themselves. Oh, and one time I could swear I saw Daniel Radcliffe behind me while I was changing for bed, but I think that might have just been wishful thinking."

[Nationstatelandsville]

The bar's owner smiled affably at this strange elderly gentleman. Grabbing a rag, he began to wipe down the counter as he said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Doctor." He paused for a minute, thinking about the man's question, and continued, "Well, Jonny's been a bit shy about using the chains for lovemaking lately, which is odd because he's the one who got me to liking them in the first place, and I just..."

He paused midsentence and pursed his lips. "That's really not what you meant, was it? Well, I suppose there've been a few occurrences of a more... supernatural sort." He hummed softly and then leaned in close to the Doctor. When he spoke, it was a stage whisper.

"I could swear I've been seeing double some nights. People leave the pub and then come right out of the bathroom. Just before sunrise, when the pub's been closed, sometimes I'll hear bumps coming down from the lower floors - even after Richard broke up with his... lady-friend. And people don't make those kinds of noises bumping around with themselves. Oh, and one time I could swear I saw Daniel Radcliffe behind me while I was changing for bed, but I think that might have just been wishful thinking."

"Right, well..." the Doctor said, a bit stunned, "I'm sure that the Corporal will visit you some day. Or has that movie not come out yet?"

He grimaced.

"Dates," he grumbled, "Hard to keep track of sometimes.

Anyhow, these doubles. Twins perhaps? I wouldn't get too paranoid about them. It's not like you can keep track of everyone, right? Besides, bumps in the night? Meaningless. All in your imagination, my good man. Monsters aren't real. I'm just a city inspector, looking for any faults in the structure or such. Don't worry about."

His skin suddenly became deathly pale (even for a British guy), but he smiled weakly.

"May I have a glass of water, please?"

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Krishna seemed almost annoyed at the interruption. "Fucking English." he grumbled. "Rapes my empire and then doesn't even accept a drink." He said in a bar full of English people who were starting to get annoyed. He just raised an eyebrow and grumbled a general "Fuck you bahenchods" and then walked over to the bartender and the Doctor.

"Yeah, give me another Screaming Orgasm." He ordered, referring, of course, to the humorously named drink on the menu which costed about three pounds. As another of course, Krishna hadn't actually paid for the other five drinks he had had and he had no real intention of doing so.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Krishna seemed almost annoyed at the interruption. "Fucking English." he grumbled. "Rapes my empire and then doesn't even accept a drink." He said in a bar full of English people who were starting to get annoyed. He just raised an eyebrow and grumbled a general "Fuck you bahenchods" and then walked over to the bartender and the Doctor.

"Yeah, give me another Screaming Orgasm." He ordered, referring, of course, to the humorously named drink on the menu which costed about three pounds. As another of course, Krishna hadn't actually paid for the other five drinks he had had and he had no real intention of doing so.

"Oh, marvelous," the Doctor droned, completely deadpan, "Absolutely marvelous. Well, that's turning into a bit of a catchphrase, isn't it?

My good man, I think the last thing you need is a drink."

He sniffed the air around Krishna, much as he had done to Richard.

"Bit far from home, aren't we?" he asked, "I am too, you know. As is Sydney. But we aren't dealing with that by drinking ourselves into a stupor! Well, I'm not, I don't know about her, there is the wine cellar on the fifth floor... but that has an interdimensional wormhole in it that she would slip into if she touched the Italian stuff, and I think I would notice that. So, basically, Mr... Khan?, cool it, or you just might get thrown into the dimension with all those nasty bat demons, and I can assure you that you don't want that."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

"Cool it?" Khan raised an eyebrow. "How American of an expression." He now focused on the Doctor, the drink's effects seeming to switch off quickly. "Just who are you? London is bloody weird and this is coming from a guy from India. But you stand out in insanity, and I spent yesterday stumbling through the streets in my underwear in the rain."

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Cool it?" Khan raised an eyebrow. "How American of an expression." He now focused on the Doctor, the drink's effects seeming to switch off quickly. "Just who are you? London is bloody weird and this is coming from a guy from India. But you stand out in insanity, and I spent yesterday stumbling through the streets in my underwear in the rain."

"I'm an actor, I think," he replied, "That's what I've been told I am. I think that's rubbish, personally, but I don't like arguing with strangers."

Somewhere, in some time, everyone the Doctor had ever met burst out into laughter.

"You can call me the Doctor," he said, sipping the water the bartender gave him (or maybe he stole it from someone - he wasn't paying attention), "Now that, that's not rubbish at all. Water! Hydrogen and oxygen blended together into the most refreshing thing. Blended into us, actually. Really, truly, remarkable. Not too interesting to watch, though, the creation of life. Quite dull, actually. Just a bunch of chemicals and then bacteria."

The Doctor looked mildly confused for a moment, and then extremely panicked.

"Excuse me," he murmured hurriedly, before slamming his glass down to the table hard enough to crack it, before bolting out of the room and into the bathroom. He stumbled into a stall and threw his head over a toilet, before vomiting enough to make Peter Altier blush.

[Ende]

Sydney looked towards the closed bathroom door for a few moments, and then put her head in her hands and sighed.

"You know," she said to Krishna, "I'm pretty sure that he just changed faces a few minutes ago. And, yes, I'm serious. It was like, ten minutes ago, he was totally different. Different face and everything. It's like he was replaced. I heard some stories on the docks about Cybermen doing that, but, really, the Clankers aren't that subtle. But, you know what? I don't even care. I'm a thousand years in the past, on the Starship U.K, in a bar, and I'm in a bathrobe. The fact that he just did that isn't even that odd, actually, considering the circumstances."

Of course, Krishna looked confused.

"You have no idea about what I'm talking about, do you?" she said, sounding slightly annoyed.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Sydney looked towards the closed bathroom door for a few moments, and then put her head in her hands and sighed.

"You know," she said to Krishna, "I'm pretty sure that he just changed faces a few minutes ago. And, yes, I'm serious. It was like, ten minutes ago, he was totally different. Different face and everything. It's like he was replaced. I heard some stories on the docks about Cybermen doing that, but, really, the Clankers aren't that subtle. But, you know what? I don't even care. I'm a thousand years in the past, on the Starship U.K, in a bar, and I'm in a bathrobe. The fact that he just did that isn't even that odd, actually, considering the circumstances."

Of course, Krishna looked confused.

"You have no idea about what I'm talking about, do you?" she said, sounding slightly annoyed.

Krishna paused. "Lady. Listen. I grew up in Bombay, in one of the worst slums. I started drinking at thirteen. Last week I woke up in a gutter with purple unicorns flying around me. I fell into this gutter because I jumped off a two story building when I thought I could fly. Most of my friends are drug addicts. Your crazy rant is a completely ordinary occasion for me." he said quite coherently and calmly. "And now, more importantly, I would like to fuck your face."