trans_9 | Sensorium [Open]

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Sensorium [Open]

Fitz, like many others on board this big, icky, moist spaceship from hell, was making good use of the sensoriums.

He had sequestered himself in a huge mock-ballroom lined in mirrors, and was chainsmoking so heavily there was a slight haze.He had a stack of cigarette packs by him, apparently not noticing any sort of short supply like his fellow addicts, and he was tuning a guitar that didn't really exist (And thus didn't need to be tuned, but he was ignoring that.)

He could still feel the plantsuit pulsing around him under his fake old clothing, a horrendus mash of plaid and hawaiian print with a leather jacket thrown on top.

The strange fashion disaster of a young (?) man started to croon around the fag in his mouth. "Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away..."

It's up to you, oh brave observer, if you want to venture near the living sixties mess, or just stare and move on. Fitz couldn't care either way. ...Unless you're a hot bird. Yes, please.

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Jo stood outside the Sensorium, staring inside with her eyesbrows raised in... Well something - amusement maybe? She wasn't quite sure.

Don't ask why she was there, she had no idea herself.

A guy was inside wearing perhaps the most ugly shirt she had seen in like forever, but he could at least play the guitar...

And apparently sing.

"Wow, nice shirt," she called out to the guy. She's of course being sarcastic, but to be honest the shirt was way better than the leafy suits everyone was forced to wear.

Fitz stopped playing and blinked. Anji? --No, wait, he was on the ship from mushy hell. Right. He forgot for a second, lost in his own little world.

"Ta." He grinned broadly, apparently seeing no problem with it at all. This is why he should be dressed by other people. "Y'know, I don't bite. Er."

Jo offered the man a smile back - she wasn't rude afterall. Even though his sense in style was obviously lacking, he seemed nice enough.

"Well on this ship, you can't be too sure," Jo pointed out before stepping fully into the room the sensorioum had set up.

Propping her hands on her hips, she glanced around, taking all the mirrors in. Interesting. Kinda weird actually, but she was use to weird.

Turning to face the man, Jo stepped toward him extending her hand, "I'm Jo."

"Yeah, I'm avoidin' people until I know there's no chance of bein' eaten. It's not pleasant."

He looked around with her, realizing how strange the room probably looked. "I'm Kreiner. Fitz Kreiner." Why yes, he does think he's James Bond.

Jo's brow arches and she can't help but chuckle. "How would you know? Have you been eaten before? Wait... That did not even soung right..."

She really honestly did not mean for that to sound anywhere near gutter related status.

"Nice to meetcha," She nods and glances at the room again. "So, what's the deal with the set up?"

Fitz laughed. Yeah, his mind went there.

"This? 'S a room in the TARDIS, sometimes. Good acoustics. Can hear it everywhere in the ship, too-- used to drive Anji nuts, and Trix."

"Oh, yeah of course." Like she knows what the TARDIS is, or who Anji and Trix are, but whatever.

She waited to see if he'd explain, but actually didn't wait all that long until she burst out with, "OK, what's a TARDIS?"

Fitz looks amused. Apparently he waits all of his life for chances to pretend he knows things. "It's the Doctor's ship, travels through time and space."

OK, had it not been for the fact that she had been abducted by a spaceship with touchy feely tectacle thingies - Jo might have thought Fitz to be completely insane...

Sadly at this point in time, she doesn't.

And that's seriously weird.

She sighed though, her brow arching a bit in question. "Seriously? Not just space travel, but time travel as well.... Isn't that a little bit dangerous?"

"Well, yes, danger's sort of part of it-- I haven't had a proper holiday since he picked me up-- but it's brilliant, really, the whole thing."

He looks a touch enamoured, really.

"Well danger's always fun...." She could have added as long as no one got hurt, but it was really as long as she didn't... But whatever.

"So what type of missions do you all go on?"

"Oh, you know, save the universe, get the girl, that sort of thing. Bit like James Bond."

"Seriously? With cool gadgets and cars and tuxes?"

The Doctor is wandering past the sensoriums for no particular reason (no, really) when he notices the music. He recognizes that voice.

Popping his head into the room, he blinks and smiles. Oh, Fitz. Such a wonder. Such an exercise in fashion disasters.

A second later, 'Leven finds himself wandering in to lean against a wall near his old companion and listen.

Fitz pauses and looks up at him. It's the future-Doctor from before-- weird.

"Hullo, then." He says awkwardly.

Aw, is the music stopping? 'Leven tries not to look disappointed.

"Hullo," the Doctor says back, crossing his arms (not to hide his pudge, he is not self-conscious about the pudge).

Fitz stops and starts a few sentences before returning to playing guitar.

After a moment, he stops again. "..So where are we now, Doc?"

"Physically?" He pauses, considers. "Dunno. They stuck me in engineering, under a teenager." Though not literally. "It's a bit weird."

Literally would be weird. "Figured you'd be in charge of this whole mess."

And awkward, too. "Apparently I'm a genocidal maniac who cannot be trusted." He pulls a face to demonstrate precisely what he thinks of that.

"Oi, where'd they get that idea?" Poor, unknowing Fitz.

"Because the Master told them about," oh wait, Fitz doesn't know, does he, this needs to be worded delicately, "when are you from again?"

"Who?" Fitz is baffled.

"..You, me, an' Trix jumping down the rabbit hole."

"Ah. Yes, that." How to word this? How to word this?

Only one way, really. "Well, long story short, the Master's my arch-nemesis, ex-school chum, fellow Time Lord, and he keeps going around telling people I blew up Gallifrey."

"Wot? Again?" And then: "...You never tell me anything."

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