( text | un: butcher )

[cheapbastard]

yeah, all right, i'm new here. please send your welcome wagon baskets of cookies to my room. i'm hungry.

( but that wasn't the reason he was putting himself out there now. he didn't really want to talk to this lot but seems like that was gonna have to be something he does.

so, he's making it happen. )

what i'm gettin from this place is that i can't go back to where i was, this place is in fuckin' space and those are actual fuckin' stars out there, and you lot like to get fucked up drunk sometimes.

( yes, he'd seen that post of yours, newton. seen it and he was going to remember it for the rest of his life. )

so, since you lot are so ready to offer up advice, i got two things:

one, where can i get a fuckin' good drink?
two, where can i punch the shit out of something? or someone. volunteers? i'm definitely taking volunteers. come on, everyone's so helpful here, right?

Comments

[lateness]

Nothing wrong with tea. [ The Doctor manages to sound both affronted and like he's pouting, because — really! Tea is a much better choice of beverage than anything. ] Besides, if it's the other stuff you're looking for, it might be best to wait until our next mission.

[ People, human and alien alike, both seemed to enjoy their drinking on Braccia. The Doctor, on the other hand ... not so much. If they happen to land on another place like it, well, this man would be in luck. ]

Might even find a drink that makes you float.

[cheapbastard]

Did you just say a drink that makes me float?

( wasn't that a thing in that movie with the creepy candy factory owner? were you a creepy candy factory owner in your other life, doctor? )

All right, I'll bite. How's that?

[lateness]

[ Absolutely not! He'll let other people be creepy candy factory owners; he'll just occasionally stop by a shop to buy a few sweets. That's his preference, thank you very much. ]

I'm not entirely sure. [ Which is the truth. ] There was a whole table full of those awful alcoholic drinks during our last mission. Pretty things, but I don't know how you humans drink that stuff — let alone enjoy it. [ The Doctor scrunches his nose. ] Suppose I could have had another sip to see how it all worked, though.

[ You know, for science. ]

I liked the floaty bit. And the colour-changing bit — oh, yes. Better than the khaki we were forced to wear.

[cheapbastard]

Khaki?

( oh, gross. no way. he's not puttin' on some fuckin' dockers if he can help it. not a chance. he'll go around in the buff before he does that. )

Why'd you have to do that? There was a dress code or something?

[lateness]

Yes! Khaki!

[ Said in the most incredulous, can you actually believe that? tone of voice the Doctor is capable of. ]

We were sorted into families, not really unlike Hogwarts houses, I suppose — [ Yes, there was a point in time when the Doctor had discovered the Harry Potter books and decided to speed-read the first few, because when you're bored and floating around in time and space, why the hell not?

(Fine books, rubbish author though.) ] — and unfortunately the Lionetta had a most unfortunate affinity for khaki-coloured trench-coats and boring suits. Had a phase with it once, you know, the trench-coat. It was a long time ago, but I was tall and I wore sandshoes, and I had a mousey sort of look, but this isn't a face that can pull that awful thing off. Oh, no.

[ A huff. ]

[cheapbastard]

Trench coats, huh? Now, those I like. Easy to hide a machine gun underneath it.

( and also, it just looks cool. he'd shown up with the coat and he's going to wear it until someone rips it off him or it gets blown to bits. makes him feel a little better about being here. little more grounded. )

Sand shoes? You mean those mesh things that make you look like some pretentious twit? You ain't pretentious, are you?

[lateness]

No, no, of course not, pretension is for other people. Haven't got time for that.

[ Please. He's an alien who unironically dresses himself like a literature professor from the early 1900s because he's got a funny idea about 'cool'. He wouldn't know pretentious if it punched him in the face.

But more importantly: machine guns? What? Who is this man, anyway? ]

You're not hiding some machine gun beneath your coats or your knickers now, are you?

[cheapbastard]

Not this time.

( he'd definitely done that before. )

I don't know if I'd be very comfortable if I shoved a gun in my shorts, though. Not a lot of room in there already. Might make me waddle like a duck. Don't wanna to actually have it go off either. Got some important stuff in there.

( well, you asked. )

[lateness]

[ And oh, he regrets it. ]

Yes.

Well.

Right, so.

[ The Doctor clears his throat. ]

Good to know then, I suppose. That you've got your — ah, limits.

[cheapbastard]

That's not a limit for you?

( damn, doctor. )

[lateness]

[ what ]

Of course it's a limit! It was a limit right around the time you mentioned your machine gun.

And not that sort of — oh, shut up.

[cheapbastard]

Now now, that's kind of rude, ain't it? You could at least say 'please shut up.'

( might go down better! )

[lateness]

Please shut up.

[ Oh, gods above, has the Doctor finally found his True Nemesis in childish conversational tennis??? ]

[cheapbastard]

Appreciate the manners but no.

No, I will not shut up. Free country, ain't it? I can talk all I want.

( it was on like donkey kong, doctor. )

[lateness]

About your machine gun?

Absolutely not.

[cheapbastard]

Oh? And how you gonna stop me?

( he can talk about his machine gun if he wants to! )

[lateness]

You're going to stop yourself, thank you very much.

[cheapbastard]

( he pretends to think about it before shaking his head. )

Nah, I don't think I will.