[ OPEN LOG ] Moonage Daydream

[attackbrows]

||| Prelude — Eternal Melody | ???? ( Dreamshare );

[ When the crew returned to the station and resolved their 'internal problem', the air became thick with uncertainty. Another orb was in their possession and yet (once more), their accomplishment came with nothing but bittersweetness. He returned to his room with far too much on his mind. And that made the rest of the station sound noisier than usual.

In times like these, The Doctor needs a reprieve from the rest of the universe. Being stuck within the confines of four walls will not cut it. Being stuck within the confines of four walls would not cut it. The Doctor steps out of his room and makes a beeline for the Sunlight Room. There, within the vast array of plant life and water, he finds a secluded sit-down and have a think… ]

[ Perhaps you are a telepath, or perhaps you are a big sleeper who falls easily into the realm of dreams. At some point, you will find yourself in a whole different world. A world that from any place you haven’t travelled to or from any of the previous mission locations.

There doesn’t seem to be a lick of sunlight bursting from above, but everything around you is perfectly lit to a cool, blue-green daylight. It is a bright and vibrant village full of calming song. But eventually, you will find The Doctor standing in the middle of the forest. The most unordinary object in this scene is the wheelable chalkboard in front of him, filled to the brim with equations and markings of a different world.

He knows you’re here. After all, you’re in his dream. Instead of turning to acknowledge your presence, he continues to write on his chalkboard. Before you begin to speak (or approach him), he interrupts you: ]

...Your regret. How much does it mean to you?

||| Part I — Soft Machine | Common Living Area;

[ The living area isn’t exactly the epicentre of excitement. A quiet sit down here, a friendly game of chess there… The Doctor is a night owl by nature. His sleep cycle comes few and far between. When it comes to keeping himself occupied, he has to get creative (literally)...

He finds a blank sheet of paper and a pencil. Two seemingly innocuous tools and begins sketching out different things that pop into mind: foreign star systems, skulls, flowers. As much as he can to fill the page. ]

||| Part II — Wicked Vibrations | Mess Hall;

[ You know what they say: Don’t play with your food. Especially on a space station with finite resources. But The Doctor is a respectful old chap. He can behave himself (mostly).

There really shouldn’t be a reason for him to have his electric guitar, but he brought it with him, anyway. A large mug of coffee sits by his side as tunes his guitar. All his attention is on fine-tuning his instrument until a thought pops into his head— ]

I missed my game with Chopin!

||| Closed Starters |||
Clara Oswald | River Song | The Doctor (11)
Xichen | Rosinante

Comments

[lateness]

[ Look. It's all a part of the charm. And arguably, it's also a part of the process in making himself feel a little better. Get all that petulant, frustrated energy out and all that.

But he's admittedly quite pleased with the treatment he's received so far. Sometimes being cared for isn't actually so bad. Who would have thought?

The Doctor's mouth twists into amusement and he lets out a huff of laughter. ]

It's quite all right, old-me. [ That's a 'thank you', by the way. ] Have a seat then. [ He gestures to the empty chair beside his bed, the one Marta had often occupied if it hadn't been Clara. And as for him, he'll get started on that soup now with not another moment to waste.

Admittedly it smells wonderful. ]

[attackbrows]

[ That’s all he needs to hear. The Doctor takes a few steps backwards and then turns to sit on the rather comfy chair on the other side of the infirmary bed. He sinks deep into the seat with his legs crossed. In times like these, he feels more like a babysitter to himself than any. Not out of distrust (now that’ll be a feast for any psychologist), but he thinks to himself, “What would Amelia Pond do?” Those tiny acts of kindness whenever the Ponds and he found themselves at their wit’s end.

…He really misses Amy. ]

I’ll let it slide just this once. [ He gestures towards the other. ] You getting injured like this. But make my blood pressure rise again and I’ll personally tuck you inside a puppy trolley.

[ He says it more out of jest than any. The younger Doctor saved Clara just in the nick of time before the Precursors did their worst. It was the best outcome for both parties. ]

[lateness]

[ The Doctor happily takes a few more spoonfuls of soup before he speaks up again, thinking of the last time someone had brought him soup. Or any kind of 'get well soon'-type liquids. Oh, it must be years now. Near lifetimes ago.

And the last time he'd relaxed like this must have been falling asleep on Christmas, out like a light, right after his last face's regeneration. Needed a bit of tea, then. Maybe he's more of a soup man this time around.

He does not, however, miss Jackie Tyler. ]

A what? Hah. As though I'd let you.

[ But no, if the situation repeated itself for some reason, the Doctor already knows he'd do it again. No questions asked, and no choice in the matter either. ]