[Audio]

[championoftime]

[Private to Jesse]

[He's trying not to be exhausted with everything. He's never been fond of death in any form or fashion. So he's tinkering and clanging, and in the background there's the light sounds of tinkering and the painful awareness that he's now the only one of himself around on the ship. He's not actually slept during port and since port. Since he's been working in the infirmary. But he's a Time Lord so that's more okay than it would be for most people]

Mr. Pinkman, where would you like to meet?

[Private to Friends, Family, and Companions]

It's ridiculous to ask if you're all right. I would be amazed if anyone who wondered into that place was [and he sincerely wishes he hadn't seen places like it, places that would kill you for being sad] but I must know.

Comments

[Private]

[batmanschmatman]

I'm fine. Tim and I didn't go. [Dick's voice is still a little scratchy from the bronchitis, but he's functional.] Are you okay?

[Private]

[yeahscience]

Wherever, man. Whatever's good for you.

[umgekehrt]

Recovering. Just death, after all. [Equal parts graveyard humor and obligatory Fleet machismo. ]

Spam

[strangehistorian]

[There's a dragon curled around the TARDIS, sleeping restlessly.]

Private

[timesbureaucrat]

Why ridiculous? I'm perfectly all right. [And repressing like a boss. And not thinking about another place he's been where life was a commodity to be seized and sold. And not thinking about not-Kay's eerie eyes and the other time and place he'd seen them.]

[can_has_vodka]

I'm...alive. I'll be helping out in the infirmary if they let me, if you need anything.

[Private]

[peektuttut]

I stayed here. [Suppressing unnecessary guilt. :c]

You all right?

[Private]

[with_discipline]

I'll likely be in the infirmary for a time.

[Private]

[collector]

I'm quite fine.