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[attackbrows]

	You've reached Dr. Funkenstein. Expert on all things funkadelic. Please, by all means, save us both the hassle and don't leave a message.
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[attackbrows]

That orb should be in no one's possession. If there is anything more dangerous in this universe, it's the bitter taste of revenge from the opposition.

All we need is more time with the water supply. We're wasting our time dwelling on the probable.

[captainjacktoyou]

Only a few people are advocating for that, and they're not going to win that one. The second someone tries I am grabbing it and making the decision for everyone.

[ Jack will have no hesitation about that. None. He's made worse unilateral decisions. ]

Has this group ever captured the orb without touching it?

[attackbrows]

In practice? No. But there haven't been any previous stipulations about securing a perimeter around the orb. Think: Capture the Flag.

[ As long as no one from the immediate Ximilia crew touches it. They have at least a slither of chance at least reconciling the even bigger planetary elephant in the room. ]

But it will require some team effort. And if there's anyone who is too old for all this, it's me.

[captainjacktoyou]

I don't think that will be possible this time, they think it's in the poisoned water. A few of the mechanical people are volunteering to go down there, but they know when they get it, that's it. Does it only react off of skin contact or can we put it in a bag or something?

You know I'd rather just finish this mission. But then I remember that our adventures have never been that simple.

[attackbrows]

It never is, old friend.

Grab the orb and we end up back on the station. Our best option is to contain it with as little contact as possible.

[captainjacktoyou]

If we have geniuses who think they can fix this planet's issues, they should be smart enough to figure a way to move it without touching it, right?

I wish I could fire people like at Torchwood. Just go on a firing spree.

post-fox & the hare mission, infirmary — ;

[lateness]

[ Right.

So not only did word get around regarding his older self mixing up in the labour camp battles alongside actual, seasoned and trained soldiers (not to fight, thankfully, but being there at all seemed really rather silly of the daft old man), but the Doctor (this one) had seen it for himself when the dust had settled and they were called to the aftermath of purifying the waters. Hemming and hawing and wincing when he moved, it was quite a relief when they'd finally made it back to the station and sent the injured into the Infirmary for a quick, proper bandaging.

Which is where the Doctor will find himself lying in a bed, his eyes closed, those cross brows of his furrowed as though he's an old owl dreaming of some lecture he's got to teach, except all of his students have failed to turn in their essays and he's about ready to send them all packing. ]

Oy, me! Wakey-wakey, I made a broth!

[ And indeed, when the Doctor (the owl one) opens his eyes he'll find himself (bowtie and all) with a tray in his hands, a silver spoon and a bowl of hot, delicious-smelling soup sitting atop it.

There may also be some Jammy Dodgers (as requested from the supply drop!) on a plate beside it, but whether that's for the older Doctor or for him remains to be seen. ]

[attackbrows]

That's the problem with landlords. Promises of affordable space and not so much of a window to plop your succulents in front of. Then again, something tells me you haven't cooped yourself up long enough to take up botany.

Where've you been?

[construing]

Experiencing the relativity of time in…I was about to say "real time." But that would suggest the existence of a false time, and it's not false, just different depending on the frame of reference through which it's being perceived—
Pulling back from that tangent, time dilation is a kick in the head. Also, the people here aren't real conversational.

action;

[spoilers]

[ She doesn't hover as he recovers in the same way she might (and has) over his younger self. It's more subtle than that, the way she simply seems to be there more often than she isn't. To tell the truth, she isn't even sure the Doctor's noticed the gradual shift from her avoiding him to existing just outside (and sometimes inside) his personal space. She almost doesn't notice it herself until a conversation during Newt's movie night makes her realize...she isn't angry anymore.

It's well into the night some few days after when she settles next to him on the bed with a book she isn't even interested in, a bottle of wine, and a single glass. She offers him the glass in silence. But her silence doesn't last long. It rarely does unless she's angry. Or deeply hurt. ]

I know I'm not supposed to talk about it; you haven't been there yet. I see it every time I look at you.

[ She doesn't bother to mask her feelings, not this time. She's earned her disappointment, her heartache. ]

But we had a good marriage, you know.

[ Suddenly she laughs. It sounds ridiculous when she puts it like that. But summing up their time on Darillium any other way when they can't share in the memories seems...wrong, somehow. ]

[farr]

[ one morning on the station, on each orber's door, the following hand-written note (in fancy calligraphy) will be taped:


the orber can choose to attend or simply listen in to the meeting when it occurs, or they may ignore it altogether. ]

[attackbrows]

[ At first, he says nothing. He looks softly at River pouring her glass as she speaks. Darillium has always been a point of contention for the Doctor. He remembers all those times River would ask about when they can travel there and he always had to skate away from the answer.

Because he knows those singing towers marked something wonderful for their marriage. But it also meant the eventual end to something wonderful.

It’s all very complicated. Marriages are complicated. The very least he can do is to be a decent husband. ]

…Good. [ He holds the glass over his chest. ] Because it would be very awkward if you’re to tell me you want to file for a divorce.

[spoilers]

[ She laughs again, taking a drink this time to punctuate it. ] Stuck with me, I'm afraid.

[ A part of her wants to tell him she hadn't been any more willing to let him go than he had her, but he had let her go, walked away and found someone new. Multiple someones, knowing the Doctor. It's hard to say how long it's been, exactly, not that they've ever been exclusive, strictly speaking.

Maybe Darillium has made her selfish. Or maybe it's dying that's done it. ]

I knew as well as you did, what was coming. I never could keep away from stories of us. But I never worked it out completely.

[ She sighs, picking through her words, trying to relent without apologizing. ]

I've been angry with you for something you haven't even done yet, a decision you'll make for another you who won't know me well enough to understand why I wouldn't appreciate it. But I got something out of that, too, Doctor. [ Much, much more quietly, ] And I've left them behind.

I think I've had enough of that.

[ Smiling, she rests a hand on his leg. ]

Thank you for saving me, Sweetie.

[attackbrows]

[ Again, he’s quiet. He is simply content with her company. His free hand cups over his cheek. Knowing what he had to do to keep River ‘alive’ - it was probably one of the most brilliant (and stupidest) ideas in his life. An incarnation of the Doctor who doesn’t know how far these two will run, so young and naïve, but one truth always ring true in all the Doctor’s lives: He hates losing people.

With the same free hand, he wraps it over River’s hand, not quite reckoning the wave of emotion washing over his body. ]

That anger wasn’t misplaced.

[ He gives her hand a firm squeeze. ]

[spoilers]

[ Acknowledgement of fault? What has he done with her husband?

But even as she stares at him in quiet disbelief, her lingering uncertainty fades, light chasing the shadow out of her eyes. ]

I was hurt, Doctor.

[ After so long hiding the damage, it's a relief to say it outright, even if it forces them both to confront it. ]

My life was decided for me before I was born. You took away my choice, even in the end. And you can tell anyone else you were trying to save me, but it wasn't about me, Doctor. It was about you. It was selfish.

[ She shrugs and turns her hand in his to lace their fingers tightly together. ]

I can be selfish too.

I don't believe they can do as they claim. We may go on like this forever or we might all be gone tomorrow. I love you. [ The words nearly catch in her throat; it's so rare they say them to each other, favoring 'I hate yous' instead. ] I won't waste my time being angry over what can't be changed.