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[championoftime]

[There's a strange man in Time Lord robes roaming the halls. He's been watching conversations and following along, taking in what's happening. But he doesn't want to intrude. He knows that for some reason that he shouldn't.

However, more than one psychic presence has coaxed him out of his room, away from the irritated TARDIS that's very familiar to him (she doesn't like this psychic aggression, she doesn't like it at all). And now he's trying to keep track of where the most damage is.]

Comments

[rass-bestie.livejournal.com]

/You lost him./ [Peylix knows well the feeling of both the former and the authority, but force of habit keeps his tongue on the latter. He smiles.] /Then allow this simple man to guide you to the pub./

[championoftime]

Thank you. [He ignores the thoughts of a lost friend for the promise of spending time with someone of the older times. There were a few good days then- mostly when he saw his people stand up to oppression and fear. This fellow strikes him as the sort that would have been on their side.

He motions for Peylix to move ahead and he'll follow.]

[rass-bestie.livejournal.com]

[Peylix takes the stairs as while he's investigated the lifts, they don't strike him as particularly... trustworthy. He has his son's item on hand to activate the door to the warden area. He smiles at him when they find the bar.] /It's a curious little place, isn't it?/

[championoftime]

It is. I'm a little perplexed by the bursts of psychic activity I'm feeling. They're unusually hostile.

[And reflected in the TARDIS left in his room, which is strange since it shouldn't be his ship. For now, though, the bottles across the counter have his attention.]

[rass-bestie.livejournal.com]

/Hmm. One of them appeared on the deck. He would not sip the wine./ [Which tells you all you need to know, really, doesn't it? Peylix reaches for an interesting looking bottle and a couple of glasses, pouring it out for the two of them.]

[championoftime]

Was he from our world? [Who won't take wine? Well, he can't do it so much anymore but he will now! He's not got to be in a stuffy office today or listen to seven hours of proposals.

He takes his glass and raises it for a sip.]

[rass-bestie.livejournal.com]

[Narvin: fuddy duddy even when he's a savage.] /He was./ [There's just no excuse for him, except snobbishness. Which is a good way to cut out boring company. He smiles as he takes a drink.] /Gathered up his robes so they could keep up with his nose./