dramadramaduck | [Video]

[The video cuts in on a GRINNING Doctor. For a change in pace he's actually in his shirtsleeves and... wearing a name tag that reads "The Doctor." He's standing in the toy section of a shop and stroking a little yellow and black toy robot dog.]

Hullo! So I've heard many of you talking about Christmas. It's not Christmas here but since it happens to be one of my top five holidays [pause] eight. [he pauses and rolls his eyes up, thinking.] No, I take it back, five. Yes. Five. [ahem]

Anyway! Yes! Christmas! [He waves his hands, making the dog dance and waggle at the community] I'm on Earth at the moment, working in a shop. [His grin widens] they even gave me a name tag in case I forget who I am [He pulls out one of his bracers, showing off the name tag clipped to it, as proud as ever.] as it does happen... and I thought it a fitting time as any to say Happy Christmas, Ducks! [the toy yaps happily]

[He looks off to the side as he hears the sounds of incoming unattended children on their way to check out the incredibly overpriced bits of plastic and metal. Turning back to the feed he smiles one last time] Back to work! Goodbye community! [to the toy] say goodbye, Yapper. [He speaks in a silly falsetto, waggling the dog at the community] goodbye community!

[With another final wave he pulls out his sonic screwdriver and cuts the feed. No worries, ducks, he'll reply on his next coffee break. Not that he drinks coffee... or really takes breaks...]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

... [hey. hey. guess who knows you, now...]

New face. Good to know, we'll have to add it to the dossier. Hope y'don't mind.

Dossier? I have a dossier? [He raises an eyebrow] the Post Office has a dossier?

'Fraid I got my old job back, Doctor. Just like Neil Young said... out of the blue, into the black.

There's more to the picture than meets the eye... Might I ask what your old job is?

Postmaster of Truro, Massachusetts.

[he'll just slide a certain device a few inches out from his lapel]

'Course if you were gonna ask me what I do now...

[His eyebrows raise minutely]

A neuralizer, hmmm? You do realize that won't work, don't you?

'Course it's useless on Time Lords. Think we haven't done our homework?

[His smile widens] So there it is. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of speaking to one of the Men in Black. Haven't changed much have you, Agent Kay?

Longer for you, f'my eyes serve me right. From what the other out-of-towners tell us, you folks don't regenerate all that often.

[a pause] And you're on Earth. I believe that under Article 17, Subsection H, Paragraph 182, you're pretty much bound by th' Shadow Proclamation to tell us why. You. Are. Here.

Edited 2012-12-25 05:08 (UTC)

More often than I'd like of I'm terribly honest. [the shine in his eyes fade to reveal some of the sorrow hidden just below the surface. He's only got one day before he's going to... Well... Yeah we're not going there.

The sorrow fades and he grins.]

Me? Sight seeing. Sort of. Got a job at a shop or didn't you hear that bit? [He holds out his name tag again. See?]

I seem t' recall someone insisting pretty strongly that he didn't "do domestic". Nine to five's 'bout as domestic's you can get this side of the atmosphere, and you wouldn't've popped on to a broad feed like this just for the sake of a virtual Christmas card.

Fishin' for clues, maybe?

Clues? Clues to what? I don't "fish for clues" let alone on a sentient internet community filled with people who aren't even from this planet or time let alone this department store who have any idea what a cybermat is. Shouldn't have said that. Forget I said that. Forget I said anything. [He waves his hands in what WOULD be a casually dismissive gesture if not for the toy dog still held in his right hand.]

Yes. No. No fishing here. Just picture one of those big "no fishing" signs hung about here somewhere.

What year you got on that watch'a yours right now? Just outta curiosity...

Two thousand and eleven. April twentieth to be precise.

[And he doesn't seem very pleased at all about this fact...]

Nine years. Huh. Fair 'nuff.

[nine years is good. nine years means the world keeps turning, that he and Jay do find the Light of Zartha, whatever it is, wherever he hid it from himself. that's good. that's double good. he sighs a little, briefly, passing his relief off as a moment of decision]

Guess I can just ask you a little later, then. Seein's how the world keeps spinnin' for at least that long.

Oh the world keeps spinning for a great deal longer than that.

[He waggles the toy at him]

But that doesn't mean that things can't change, that time can 't be rewritten, alternate versions of events occuring, spinning things off course. Just ask our friend, Griffin.

Griffin? ....

[his face clouds and he looks around. The Kid better not have heard that, Doc. he lowers his voice]

I wouldn't mention Griffin if I were you. You know that ain't a good idea.

[He smiles softly, his eyes carrying the weight of centuries.]

I know the dangers of spoilers quite more than you do, I'd imagine, Kevin.

[and there's the heart of it, isn't it. two old men talking to each other on Christmas about the weight of their secrets. he sighs. suddenly, between all these new(?) memories, and the jumble the community's making of everything ... he realizes exactly why the Doctor just "popped on". he did it for the same reason he, himself, reached out before he left the locker room. sometimes the world's heavy as hell. sometimes there's just a lot. not too much ... just a lot. and sometimes ... you just need a moment.

he nods]

S'July, here. 2002. ... If you're gonna wish me a Merry Christmas in July, I guess I might just hafta have one.

[Somehow he's not surprised that he understands. He's got to take what he can with what moments he's got left, after all. He nods.]

Oh, Kevin. The things I could tell you. Things I've seen, things I'll never see, things I've done... [He pauses for a moment]

The day after tomorrow is the day that I... [wait... As much as he wants to tell someone, as much as he wants to lift some of this weight from his shoulders he can't. He forces a smile.] July of 2002 and you've just got your memories back? [he looks at his watch.] Surleena?

Serleena of Kyloth, yeah. So m'told. ... Still got a few holes here and there, though. No idea what's goin' on. Must've neuralyzed m'self to keep the information from m'self.

[also: he knows Class A subject deflection when he hears it: he's a master of it, himself, after all. and he knows how to graciously accept the suggestion, even if it earns the Doctor another of those short, frustrated sighs] Workin' with what we got, but it ain't much.

Now that is a brilliant plan if I ever heard one. Keep your enemies confused.

[sorry, Kay. Spoilers.]

S'one of my favorite methods, yah. ... I should probably get goin', got a planet to save and memories to shake back into place, all that. ... You, uh.

... Enjoy your toy department. [is that even a decent way to end a conversation? pssh. it's the best he could figure. this is, after all, the man who used swamp gas as an explanation for everything for thirty years]

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