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shifted_logs2009-11-27 09:20 pm
rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com) wrote in shifted_logs2009-11-27 09:20 pm
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Characters: The Proper Doctor ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rude_not_ginger and his Improper Companion handysparehand
Location: The TARDIS, Earth
Time: Before this.
Warnings: Adventure
Notes: PART ONE. Seriously backdated. The Doctor = brown and Handy = blue
The Doctor had forgotten just how disgusting time fungus was. He had meant to clean up the storage area in his last regeneration, but he never managed to get around to it. Then, as the decades went on, it just kept getting worse and worse. And, with the consistency of cold scrambled egg and the smell of mildew, he could not be clean enough.
Two hot showers later, he padded out to the console room in his bathrobe to check on the TARDIS's system updating. She'd been acting a bit odd ever since Jack left. Must've been something to do with how she'd originally been compensating for his presence. Well, they'd sort it out, they always did.
The Doctor ran the towel over his hair one more time then tossed it over one of the branched columns on the way towards the console. What time was it? What time was it sort of? He couldn't decide if his body was ready to sleep or not. Probably not. Pity, that would've been nice after a hot shower (or two). And where was his companion?
Waking up it felt like one of those days where everything that could go wrong would go wrong. Getting out of bed he bumped his shin on the bedside table, it hurt something wicked. He still wasn't clumsy though. Just tired. A shower would help. Of course when he made his way to the washroom, it was all ready occupied. What he needed now was a nice cup of coffee then instead. He got his coffee, but looking through the pantry it was close to empty, at least as far as anything edible he would want to eat. Jack had finished the last of the scones two days ago, and now Jack was gone completely.
He would just make the Doctor make a detour for something to eat. Or he could do that himself. He was meant to be the one driving, after all.
He took his coffee and made his way out to the console room, still a bit bleary eyed and askew. Maybe he should've taken that shower and gotten dressed first, or at least brushed his hair or something. He probably looked a right mess at the moment, but he really wasn't expecting to find the Doctor here either. Besides, he had an excuse, he had just been sleeping. It was allowed.
"Morning," he said, still half-asleep it seemed. He took a seat in the captain's chair, and then a good long sip of coffee. Hopefully he'd be more wide-eyed soon enough.
The Doctor crinkled his nose at the smell of coffee. The bitter nature reminded him far too much of the stench of fungus from the store area. He flipped a few switches and turned a dial, checking the readings on the monitors.
"So it is!" he said, triumpantly, noting the vortex time. "Well, that's productive, then. Thought I'd missed morning and gone right into afternoon."
He was very, very bad with small talk. Especially small talk with his constantly argumentative companion.
"Sleep all right?" he tried, turning another dial and watching the internal temperature of the TARDIS cool on the monitor.
"Nope, still morning from what I can tell."
If it was still morning, perhaps he could get away with sneaking in a few more hours of sleep. That would be nice, and the bed was very inviting. But no, if he did he knows the Doctor would probably have something to say about that as well.
"Hmm," he said, taking another sip of coffee. "Oh yeah, slept all right. How long were you hogging the shower, by the way? I went by there at least six times and you were still in there. There really needs to be a second washroom in here, great big ship, one shower, that's all a bit ridiculous, don't you think?"
It was an exaggeration of course, he'd only been by twice. Still, twice was probably four times too many, he estimated.
"I was cleaning out the time fungus downstairs," the Doctor said, with a tone of voice that suggested 'This Explains Everything Including the Longevity of My Shower.' He turned the coolant down on the internal heating units. "It looks like that's cleared up the heating problem in the venting systems. And, really, you should take this up with the TARDIS, I've long since given up trying to decide where things go around here."
He reached over to turn a coil and, discovering it was hot, reached back to grab his towel to untwist it.
"Decide where you want to go?" he asked, trying his best to be at least somewhat cheerful.
"Oh."
It was a decent excuse for long showers, he had to admit.
"All right, fine then, I will. And that one will be specifically mine, too. So..."
He wasn't sure where that was going, so another sip of coffee it was. And he could be cheerful too, except maybe not quite this early. But he could certainly prove to not be surly, and he could be civil. It seemed extra important without Jack around.
"I could go for a bite to eat. Breakfast preferably. Oh, that diner, where was it, outpost somewhere in the 63rd century, they had those pancakes, you remember, what was it?"
He racked his brain, trying to think of the name of the place. He was still half asleep, that explained it. What the hell was it called?
"Began with an S maybe, or was it a P?"
This was going to bother him for ages, he could feel it, like trying to think of the name of someone who sang a song or he saw on the television. Hopefully the Doctor might remember and put him out of his misery. Also that would mean pancakes which sounded like heaven just about now.
The Doctor actually had no idea what outpost in the 63rd century sold good pancakes, but the idea of pancakes was actually very appealing. Lots of syrup, the Doctor liked syrup. Especially the sort with little fruit bits in it. And a nice cup of tea. Yes, this was a great idea.
“I’ll start us in the direction of the 63rd century, while you remember---“
He paused, then turned back to his human companion.
“Sorry, you start us in the direction of the 63rd century. I’ll just stand right here and not get in the way.” He held up his hands and took a step back.
"Quite right," he said. He put his coffee down on the grating and then had a tired stretch, before moving around the Doctor.
He circled around the console for a moment, his eyes moving between the Doctor and the console itself, a hand brushing against the console as he circled. There was a strange feeling, a mixture of excitement and perhaps a little anxiety. With the Doctor watching him like that, it felt almost like he was taking an exam. He hated taking exams. Well it had been - well he had never taken an exam. He was pretty sure he hated exams though, that seemed right.
He finally stopped circling and released the parking break and he gave the Doctor a look, and this one might have all been excitement, before he pulled the accelarator lever, and began steering the TARDIS along to their destination.
Really, the Doctor lived for looks of excitement like that. The ones his companions usually got when they landed somewhere new. That big, beaming look, every companion had one and every one was different.
His human self was different because, well, he got it when he could take control of the console.
The Doctor thought, momentarily, that he might relent the controls a little more often. It was worth it.
As expected, the TARDIS jerked madly to the left through the vortex, and the Doctor took the startled position as passenger, the places he usually gripped now occupied by his companion.
“Careful with the semiflux coordinator!” he called. “Still new!”
He knew that was coming, and even though he hadn't been at the vantage point to really take advantage of those all too familiar spots that really were the best for gripping, instinct kicked in and it was so easy to fall back into those habits.
"Oi, settle down over there," he called, circling around and adjusting the semiflux coordinator. "No one likes a backseat driver."
He couldn't hide a smile as he admonished the Doctor, however. Any exhaustion or sulkiness long forgotten, now he felt like he was absolutely buzzing.
They were going terribly slow it felt like though, a little speed wouldn't hurt. He moved back around increasing the acceleration, and grabbing those familiar places once more as the TARDIS jerked to the right this time.
The Doctor caught himself on another side. This side of the console was terribly uncomfortable. Was this why his companions were always falling over? And why was the TARDIS being so excited over this? Traitor! he admonished internally. He wanted his place on the console! But the accelerator was over there, so---
His eyes narrowed at the screen near the accelerator. The internal temperature of the TARDIS was still going down. That wasn't right. Not at this speed! It should be going up. Way up. The TARDIS's excitement turned into something like terror. The shift in the machine's feelings was the equivalent of being doused in ice water.
"Something's wrong!" he called.
The excitement quickly fizzled. He rushed over to the screen the Doctor was at, looking over His shoulder.
"What's wrong with the temperature?" he asked, watching as the temperature still declined even as the speed kept climbing.
He rushed over to try to slow her down, but nothing seemed to make an impact. He rushed for the emergency brake, but even after a few bangs on that her speed still kept climbing, and as he went back to where the Doctor was, he could clearly see the temperature still going down, down, down.
The Doctor grabbed the mallet off of the side of the console and swung it at the side, jostling the subralateral cords under the column. Nothing. Still, faster speed, lower temperature. A TARDIS can die of hypothermia, too, and wherever the cold was coming from, it was hurting her.
"Hit the brake and the subsector globe at the same time!" he instructed, typing furiously on the keyboard before setting a few dials. "If we can get her to slow, we should be able to find out why it keeps getting colder in the engines!"
He rushed back around, and of course the two were miles apart. Right a good sprawl would have to do. He leaned over the console, and with his foot he kicked on the brake while his hand slammed down on the subsector globe. He couldn't quite get it one go. So another go, still clinging, and then finally a third and the entire ship skidded to a stop. The suddenness of it, sent him flying back, catching himself on a coral column.
He pulled himself upright completely, then rushed back over to the console.
Well, the Doctor's ego would have to heal itself after that rather pathetic fall backwards, but it would. The Doctor moved to pull himself up off of the ground and stopped, laying his palm flat against the grating. It felt like ice, so cold it nearly burned.
"We're stopped?" he said. He turned to run out of the console room. "Need to get back to the engine room!"
But first...
The first door he passed had an old pair of check trousers hanging over the doorknob. He picked them up and struggled into them before resuming his run.
He dashed along with the Doctor, turning around to face Him as He stopped. He still continued moving backwards, jogging, but he watched the Doctor, rolling his eyes.
"Come on now, hurry it along, would you?"
He turned back to a run towards the engine room, swinging the door open when he reached it. He stepped back as a chill came out of the room, extremely bitingly cold. He wondered if he should go back, maybe get a coat and some shoes. There probably wasn't time for that. He wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing them a bit for warmth before stepping in, instantly regretting at least not running back for a pair of shoes.
"What's the temperature?" he asked. He could see his breath as he spoke. The room was bathed in an eerie blue light, just barely there, like backup power almost. He bounced a little, still trying to get just the smallest amount of warmth, but it felt fruitless. Like trying to stay warm in nothing but a pair of boxers in the Arctic.
"It's like a freezer in here," he said, teeth chattering slightly.
"Colder," the Doctor agreed, tossing his fluffy robe over his human self's shoulders as he tugged on a t-shirt. His wet hair had already crusted with ice in the cold. He let out a breath and curled his toes against the frozen ground.
"I was just here a few hours ago," he said. "Clearing out the time fungus would lower the temperature of a room, but not to this extent."
He crossed the room to a line of switches along the wall. He tried to flip a few along the temperature recognition area. Frozen stiff.
"And that light," he said. "Vortex light."
Usually he would've refused the robe, just out of some strange sense of pride, but it was freezing. He put the robe on properly, and tied it up quite tightly. It helped a small amount, but really didn't make that huge of a difference. Still, it was better than nothing.
"Did you knock something around in there accidentally?"
In another situation, the Doctor might've been insulted. But this was the TARDIS, and the Doctor was far too distracted with worry to find offense from what his human self said. He tugged at a switch, then dropped to his knees to look under the monitors.
"The icing seems to be coming from the walls," he theorized. "Hull breach, maybe? Something flying through the vortex? Or maybe the damage from the time vortex was worse than I thought."
He struggled to open a panel and, to his horror, once it was open a frosty patch of ice spread across the surface of the wall, like blood to a handkerchief.
"Whatever it is, it's attaching to organic material," he said. "Run, get out of here!"
He crouched down next to the Doctor, watching in matched horror as the icy patch spread. His eyes bounced around the room though, watching the ice spread. He was distracted watching it, a second or two passing before he thought to get moving.
He grabbed the Doctor's arm to try to pull Him up and out of the room as well.
"Get back!" the Doctor struggled to push his human self away before nearly falling awkwardly backwards. His bare feet were trapped under the growing ice. He wavered, keeping his balance and his hands off of the ground.
"You've got to get to the console room, turn the temperature in this room up as high as you can. Redirect the thermoplasitronic subthrusters in here. The TARDIS can take the heat, I think it might melt whatever this is!"
rude_not_ginger and his Improper Companion handysparehandLocation: The TARDIS, Earth
Time: Before this.
Warnings: Adventure
Notes: PART ONE. Seriously backdated. The Doctor = brown and Handy = blue
The Doctor had forgotten just how disgusting time fungus was. He had meant to clean up the storage area in his last regeneration, but he never managed to get around to it. Then, as the decades went on, it just kept getting worse and worse. And, with the consistency of cold scrambled egg and the smell of mildew, he could not be clean enough.
Two hot showers later, he padded out to the console room in his bathrobe to check on the TARDIS's system updating. She'd been acting a bit odd ever since Jack left. Must've been something to do with how she'd originally been compensating for his presence. Well, they'd sort it out, they always did.
The Doctor ran the towel over his hair one more time then tossed it over one of the branched columns on the way towards the console. What time was it? What time was it sort of? He couldn't decide if his body was ready to sleep or not. Probably not. Pity, that would've been nice after a hot shower (or two). And where was his companion?
Waking up it felt like one of those days where everything that could go wrong would go wrong. Getting out of bed he bumped his shin on the bedside table, it hurt something wicked. He still wasn't clumsy though. Just tired. A shower would help. Of course when he made his way to the washroom, it was all ready occupied. What he needed now was a nice cup of coffee then instead. He got his coffee, but looking through the pantry it was close to empty, at least as far as anything edible he would want to eat. Jack had finished the last of the scones two days ago, and now Jack was gone completely.
He would just make the Doctor make a detour for something to eat. Or he could do that himself. He was meant to be the one driving, after all.
He took his coffee and made his way out to the console room, still a bit bleary eyed and askew. Maybe he should've taken that shower and gotten dressed first, or at least brushed his hair or something. He probably looked a right mess at the moment, but he really wasn't expecting to find the Doctor here either. Besides, he had an excuse, he had just been sleeping. It was allowed.
"Morning," he said, still half-asleep it seemed. He took a seat in the captain's chair, and then a good long sip of coffee. Hopefully he'd be more wide-eyed soon enough.
The Doctor crinkled his nose at the smell of coffee. The bitter nature reminded him far too much of the stench of fungus from the store area. He flipped a few switches and turned a dial, checking the readings on the monitors.
"So it is!" he said, triumpantly, noting the vortex time. "Well, that's productive, then. Thought I'd missed morning and gone right into afternoon."
He was very, very bad with small talk. Especially small talk with his constantly argumentative companion.
"Sleep all right?" he tried, turning another dial and watching the internal temperature of the TARDIS cool on the monitor.
"Nope, still morning from what I can tell."
If it was still morning, perhaps he could get away with sneaking in a few more hours of sleep. That would be nice, and the bed was very inviting. But no, if he did he knows the Doctor would probably have something to say about that as well.
"Hmm," he said, taking another sip of coffee. "Oh yeah, slept all right. How long were you hogging the shower, by the way? I went by there at least six times and you were still in there. There really needs to be a second washroom in here, great big ship, one shower, that's all a bit ridiculous, don't you think?"
It was an exaggeration of course, he'd only been by twice. Still, twice was probably four times too many, he estimated.
"I was cleaning out the time fungus downstairs," the Doctor said, with a tone of voice that suggested 'This Explains Everything Including the Longevity of My Shower.' He turned the coolant down on the internal heating units. "It looks like that's cleared up the heating problem in the venting systems. And, really, you should take this up with the TARDIS, I've long since given up trying to decide where things go around here."
He reached over to turn a coil and, discovering it was hot, reached back to grab his towel to untwist it.
"Decide where you want to go?" he asked, trying his best to be at least somewhat cheerful.
"Oh."
It was a decent excuse for long showers, he had to admit.
"All right, fine then, I will. And that one will be specifically mine, too. So..."
He wasn't sure where that was going, so another sip of coffee it was. And he could be cheerful too, except maybe not quite this early. But he could certainly prove to not be surly, and he could be civil. It seemed extra important without Jack around.
"I could go for a bite to eat. Breakfast preferably. Oh, that diner, where was it, outpost somewhere in the 63rd century, they had those pancakes, you remember, what was it?"
He racked his brain, trying to think of the name of the place. He was still half asleep, that explained it. What the hell was it called?
"Began with an S maybe, or was it a P?"
This was going to bother him for ages, he could feel it, like trying to think of the name of someone who sang a song or he saw on the television. Hopefully the Doctor might remember and put him out of his misery. Also that would mean pancakes which sounded like heaven just about now.
The Doctor actually had no idea what outpost in the 63rd century sold good pancakes, but the idea of pancakes was actually very appealing. Lots of syrup, the Doctor liked syrup. Especially the sort with little fruit bits in it. And a nice cup of tea. Yes, this was a great idea.
“I’ll start us in the direction of the 63rd century, while you remember---“
He paused, then turned back to his human companion.
“Sorry, you start us in the direction of the 63rd century. I’ll just stand right here and not get in the way.” He held up his hands and took a step back.
"Quite right," he said. He put his coffee down on the grating and then had a tired stretch, before moving around the Doctor.
He circled around the console for a moment, his eyes moving between the Doctor and the console itself, a hand brushing against the console as he circled. There was a strange feeling, a mixture of excitement and perhaps a little anxiety. With the Doctor watching him like that, it felt almost like he was taking an exam. He hated taking exams. Well it had been - well he had never taken an exam. He was pretty sure he hated exams though, that seemed right.
He finally stopped circling and released the parking break and he gave the Doctor a look, and this one might have all been excitement, before he pulled the accelarator lever, and began steering the TARDIS along to their destination.
Really, the Doctor lived for looks of excitement like that. The ones his companions usually got when they landed somewhere new. That big, beaming look, every companion had one and every one was different.
His human self was different because, well, he got it when he could take control of the console.
The Doctor thought, momentarily, that he might relent the controls a little more often. It was worth it.
As expected, the TARDIS jerked madly to the left through the vortex, and the Doctor took the startled position as passenger, the places he usually gripped now occupied by his companion.
“Careful with the semiflux coordinator!” he called. “Still new!”
He knew that was coming, and even though he hadn't been at the vantage point to really take advantage of those all too familiar spots that really were the best for gripping, instinct kicked in and it was so easy to fall back into those habits.
"Oi, settle down over there," he called, circling around and adjusting the semiflux coordinator. "No one likes a backseat driver."
He couldn't hide a smile as he admonished the Doctor, however. Any exhaustion or sulkiness long forgotten, now he felt like he was absolutely buzzing.
They were going terribly slow it felt like though, a little speed wouldn't hurt. He moved back around increasing the acceleration, and grabbing those familiar places once more as the TARDIS jerked to the right this time.
The Doctor caught himself on another side. This side of the console was terribly uncomfortable. Was this why his companions were always falling over? And why was the TARDIS being so excited over this? Traitor! he admonished internally. He wanted his place on the console! But the accelerator was over there, so---
His eyes narrowed at the screen near the accelerator. The internal temperature of the TARDIS was still going down. That wasn't right. Not at this speed! It should be going up. Way up. The TARDIS's excitement turned into something like terror. The shift in the machine's feelings was the equivalent of being doused in ice water.
"Something's wrong!" he called.
The excitement quickly fizzled. He rushed over to the screen the Doctor was at, looking over His shoulder.
"What's wrong with the temperature?" he asked, watching as the temperature still declined even as the speed kept climbing.
He rushed over to try to slow her down, but nothing seemed to make an impact. He rushed for the emergency brake, but even after a few bangs on that her speed still kept climbing, and as he went back to where the Doctor was, he could clearly see the temperature still going down, down, down.
The Doctor grabbed the mallet off of the side of the console and swung it at the side, jostling the subralateral cords under the column. Nothing. Still, faster speed, lower temperature. A TARDIS can die of hypothermia, too, and wherever the cold was coming from, it was hurting her.
"Hit the brake and the subsector globe at the same time!" he instructed, typing furiously on the keyboard before setting a few dials. "If we can get her to slow, we should be able to find out why it keeps getting colder in the engines!"
He rushed back around, and of course the two were miles apart. Right a good sprawl would have to do. He leaned over the console, and with his foot he kicked on the brake while his hand slammed down on the subsector globe. He couldn't quite get it one go. So another go, still clinging, and then finally a third and the entire ship skidded to a stop. The suddenness of it, sent him flying back, catching himself on a coral column.
He pulled himself upright completely, then rushed back over to the console.
Well, the Doctor's ego would have to heal itself after that rather pathetic fall backwards, but it would. The Doctor moved to pull himself up off of the ground and stopped, laying his palm flat against the grating. It felt like ice, so cold it nearly burned.
"We're stopped?" he said. He turned to run out of the console room. "Need to get back to the engine room!"
But first...
The first door he passed had an old pair of check trousers hanging over the doorknob. He picked them up and struggled into them before resuming his run.
He dashed along with the Doctor, turning around to face Him as He stopped. He still continued moving backwards, jogging, but he watched the Doctor, rolling his eyes.
"Come on now, hurry it along, would you?"
He turned back to a run towards the engine room, swinging the door open when he reached it. He stepped back as a chill came out of the room, extremely bitingly cold. He wondered if he should go back, maybe get a coat and some shoes. There probably wasn't time for that. He wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing them a bit for warmth before stepping in, instantly regretting at least not running back for a pair of shoes.
"What's the temperature?" he asked. He could see his breath as he spoke. The room was bathed in an eerie blue light, just barely there, like backup power almost. He bounced a little, still trying to get just the smallest amount of warmth, but it felt fruitless. Like trying to stay warm in nothing but a pair of boxers in the Arctic.
"It's like a freezer in here," he said, teeth chattering slightly.
"Colder," the Doctor agreed, tossing his fluffy robe over his human self's shoulders as he tugged on a t-shirt. His wet hair had already crusted with ice in the cold. He let out a breath and curled his toes against the frozen ground.
"I was just here a few hours ago," he said. "Clearing out the time fungus would lower the temperature of a room, but not to this extent."
He crossed the room to a line of switches along the wall. He tried to flip a few along the temperature recognition area. Frozen stiff.
"And that light," he said. "Vortex light."
Usually he would've refused the robe, just out of some strange sense of pride, but it was freezing. He put the robe on properly, and tied it up quite tightly. It helped a small amount, but really didn't make that huge of a difference. Still, it was better than nothing.
"Did you knock something around in there accidentally?"
In another situation, the Doctor might've been insulted. But this was the TARDIS, and the Doctor was far too distracted with worry to find offense from what his human self said. He tugged at a switch, then dropped to his knees to look under the monitors.
"The icing seems to be coming from the walls," he theorized. "Hull breach, maybe? Something flying through the vortex? Or maybe the damage from the time vortex was worse than I thought."
He struggled to open a panel and, to his horror, once it was open a frosty patch of ice spread across the surface of the wall, like blood to a handkerchief.
"Whatever it is, it's attaching to organic material," he said. "Run, get out of here!"
He crouched down next to the Doctor, watching in matched horror as the icy patch spread. His eyes bounced around the room though, watching the ice spread. He was distracted watching it, a second or two passing before he thought to get moving.
He grabbed the Doctor's arm to try to pull Him up and out of the room as well.
"Get back!" the Doctor struggled to push his human self away before nearly falling awkwardly backwards. His bare feet were trapped under the growing ice. He wavered, keeping his balance and his hands off of the ground.
"You've got to get to the console room, turn the temperature in this room up as high as you can. Redirect the thermoplasitronic subthrusters in here. The TARDIS can take the heat, I think it might melt whatever this is!"