The Doctor (
toobravehearted) wrote in
paradisa2013-05-26 02:35 pm
Entry tags:
- 8 - The best cure for insomnia is to get a lot of sleep.
[ Good Morning Paradisa! Sorry, sorry, shhhhh, shhhh. Is it early? Who knows? Best keep the noise down just in case. Well, the TARDIS has been watching the comings and goings of some people these last few weeks and it's been nice to have the odd visitor. Although the reason why for that she isn't too pleased about. If the old girl could huff and scoff she would do. Another day of this until-- The TARDIS feels the subtle change as someone moves to wakefulness before even her silly thief is aware of it.
Let it never be said that she doesn't have a sense of humour, because a piece of music is piped throughout the currently available TARDIS configuration...
...In the Zero Room, a journal magically appears and the pages gently flip open as if caressed by a soft morning breeze. Or as if dancing to the music, swaying on a lullaby of renewal... Breathe it in folks... Beautiful, innit? A sleepy voice joins it. ]
Ros- Rossini. Five more... Five more minutes...
[ The TARDIS ramps up the volume. The Doctor groans. And then rolls over, except he rolled himself off that board and is face first on the floor before he pushes himself up slowly to a sitting position. ]
Ow. Ooh that stings. What? Yes. Yes! Thank you! I'm up!
[ And the music returns to a more tolerable level, he wipes a hand down his face and then stops because... Stubble? He has the beginnings of a beard. Now that wasn't there before! And now extra awake he takes stock of his surroundings. ]
Well, I don't remember coming down here. And where on Earth did that come from? Was I under the console again? Because a creeper board would actually come in quite handy and- Oh dear. What happened this time? And... Good grief. What in the blazes is that smell?
[ That smell is the Doctor. Because two weeks in dirty clothes and without a bath, he reeks. And finding his journal, he picks it up, starts to look through... ]
What? Now that's not right. No...
A FORTNIGHT?!
Let it never be said that she doesn't have a sense of humour, because a piece of music is piped throughout the currently available TARDIS configuration...
...In the Zero Room, a journal magically appears and the pages gently flip open as if caressed by a soft morning breeze. Or as if dancing to the music, swaying on a lullaby of renewal... Breathe it in folks... Beautiful, innit? A sleepy voice joins it. ]
Ros- Rossini. Five more... Five more minutes...
[ The TARDIS ramps up the volume. The Doctor groans. And then rolls over, except he rolled himself off that board and is face first on the floor before he pushes himself up slowly to a sitting position. ]
Ow. Ooh that stings. What? Yes. Yes! Thank you! I'm up!
[ And the music returns to a more tolerable level, he wipes a hand down his face and then stops because... Stubble? He has the beginnings of a beard. Now that wasn't there before! And now extra awake he takes stock of his surroundings. ]
Well, I don't remember coming down here. And where on Earth did that come from? Was I under the console again? Because a creeper board would actually come in quite handy and- Oh dear. What happened this time? And... Good grief. What in the blazes is that smell?
[ That smell is the Doctor. Because two weeks in dirty clothes and without a bath, he reeks. And finding his journal, he picks it up, starts to look through... ]
What? Now that's not right. No...
A FORTNIGHT?!

no subject
no subject
no subject
Nothing much has happened. Only a rather large number of children appearing.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
[ Don't mind the judgmental clean freak, he just had to. ]
no subject
[And just as he gets another whiff... Yep, it's him.] Oh.
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
how was your nap
no subject
no subject
i think mark was the one who took you into the zero room
im glad it was comfortable though i sure wouldn't have slept on that
[yet she... didn't move him off it...........]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Dictated
Morning, Doctor. Good old TARDIS finally got tired of waiting, huh? I don't blame her.
[After all, often Dairine visits would involve "chats" with the old girl. She had picked up on, and sympathized with, her frustration.]
Re: Dictated
As for the Doctor, yes, he hears that snickering.]
Dairine, good morning. Rest assured and no pun intended, being out at all wasn't on my schedule either. How are you?
Dictated
Fine. Better than before, anyway. Things have finally quieted down some.
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
Dictated
no subject
You're okay now. Right?
no subject
Hold on. How does everyone know I was asleep?
no subject
[Totally panicked, of course.]
... was concerned. He told me you were probably all right, though. But I didn't think you'd be asleep this long...
It's good to hear from you.
(no subject)
no subject
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
no subject
Lady Galadriel, thank you. It is good to be back in it and all the better for a welcome so warm. [Well, the sleep hasn't harmed his charm any.] How are you faring?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
[She smiles, relieved to have him back among the waking]
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
Doctor
Phoebe
Re: Phoebe
Phoebe, to end
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
dictated;
dictated;
dictated;
dictated;
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
action forever
(no subject)
(no subject)
dictated;
dictated;
dictated;
dictated;
dictated;
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)