(no subject)

[championoftime]

[Log for Vasilia Aliena]

The Doctor was busily working in the TARDIS, ignoring the furry shape slinking along the floor behind him and trying to pull away a pair of pliers with all its might, when the strange urge overcame him that was hitting so many others simultaneously.

At first, dread hit with it. The last time he felt this way, the Time Lord flu struck him. It was the beginning of the couple of the worst two weeks in memory (yes, he hated it more than the death tolls for the simple fact that he hadn't known what was going on), but still he straightened himself out and staggered to the TARDIS door.

He left the Mongoose to slink around the console room, and headed out in the halls. He went in the direction that made him feel less like retching all over the floor, stopping occasionally to hold on his hat and catch his breath. He was nigh on exhausted when he reached Vasilia's door, knocking earnestly as he pulled out his fobwatch.

"What is this nonsense?" he muttered to himself.

[Private to Dallas | Text]

It seems that I'm going to be indisposed for the next few days. But if you need anything, I'll still find a way to be there.

How are you feeling now about what happened with David? [He saw that unfortunate start of a conversation in David's journal.

Comments

[no_fastolfe]

Vasilia was curled in bed-- feeling almost as vile as she had felt towards the end of her flu and yet unsure how or why this could be. The pills Martha gave her had worked; she had researched their efficacy. Why was she sick now?

Her first reaction to the knock on the door was to call out 'Go away; I'm indisposed.' But even as she said so, she felt a lessening of the nausea that gripped her.

She staggered to the door, glaring out blearily.

The man on the other side was a stranger, one she had only seen flashes of on the network. He was nearly of a height that she could look him directly in the eye; rare for her, she being rather shorter than average for a Spacer woman. He was not handsome. He reminded her slightly of Fastolfe in the awkward proportion of his face-- though not enough to trigger the wave of conflicted and negative emotions that that lauded individual inspired in her.

Most significant was that somehow her proximity to him made the pain that snarled in her gut fade away.

"What have you done?" she demanded suspiciously.

Private/Voice

[failed-bluff.livejournal.com]

You goin' somewhere, Doc?

[Ohoho, he is not okay with David.] Blondie? I'm gonna kick his ass next time I see him. Better come up with the punishment now, Doc, 'cause it's gonna happen.