Cranston For Hire [Open!]

[morphitudinous]

It was once again time for Billy to assess the progress being made in this seemingly endless war with tasks and deadlines. So far, reorganization of the Engineering department was about 25% complete. Not terrible for a day's work, but he could certainly do better. Several projects were stalled pending discussion from the involved parties. His social time and interactions with the Rangers had taken a hit due to all of this.

Though he was following his orders to take more resting time during the day and having fun with Ronnae on many of the nights, nothing stopped him from taking on more than enough work to fill the compressed schedule.

Today's work: Supervising the new structure and performing odd jobs around the ship. Repairs were going well in the hangar, Neuropathy needed to be left alone, infrastructure was busy in the City. He visited wherever he could and lent a hand to each, struggling to find time for what he wanted to do in secret: move his personal belongings to his girlfriend's house.

As Billy wandered back and forth throughout the day, a stuffed backpack always accompanied him. Throughout the day, the loaded-down teenager made trips between a number of places on the upper levels and a particular house in the City. Distracted as he was with the constant juggling of omnicom, comm ring, tools, and items, he eventually wore himself out.

Where he ended up shouldn't be a surprise: in the city park, fast asleep, sprawled across an assortment of odd items. Somehow, he'd note when he woke up, he doubted this was what had been meant by the recommendation for 'personal time'.

((ooc: The two location tags basically mean you can catch him anywhere: asleep with shiny stuff to steal or rushing back and forth between the different areas of the ship. Just make a note of where you found him.))

Comments

[makeherblue]

The Doctor peered over at the bag of knobs. Right, good point -- enforced break by tentacle might not be that pleasant. The Doctor made a deft movement like he was going to try to pluck the bag of wooden knobs out of Billy's arms, thinking the fella could use some help when he was starting to get red in the face.

"Rather surprising this ship doesn't have more teleports. Or teleporty things," he added, because there had been the way to the hangers which hadn't quite been a teleport but had been considerably faster than walking. Or jogging, like Billy here. "No one else in the department could help you?"

All right, so it wasn't very science-oriented. And there didn't seem to be much in the way of tinkering or jiggery-pokery (which he would have expected Kaylee and Billy to be involved with; Jamie, not so much). So maybe he could see why Billy didn't have any assistants. Still, a good jog never hurt anyone, had it? The Doctor kept up with Billy, not exactly puffing away.

[morphitudinous]

Someone likely would have helped if Billy had asked, but he was just a stubborn guy jogging with doorknobs. Why he needed so many was a mystery even to him, but he trusted the unnamed experiment would have some useful component.

"We've tried to inquire about a teleportation system before, but there's the complication of the ship constantly moving through the Bleed. I have some experience with teleportation systems, but that complication's stalled the project for some time. Maybe I should ask about organizing another attempt."

Of course, the problem with the combination of jogging and sentences with high syllable counts is that it tends to expend oxygen rather quickly. Billy found himself flopping against an old brick wall three blocks down.

"Most of us are busy today. We're working out the department's new command structure and everyone's focusing on that."

[makeherblue]

"Yes, I can see how possibly teleporting into the Bleed could be messy," the Doctor said. Well, it probably wouldn't be so much messy as just decidedly awkward; especially if the Bleed was in a vacuum like normal space.

The Doctor followed Billy to his old brick wall, looking annoyingly not red in the face yet. Nothing like a brisk jog and that was really all it was to him today -- there was a big difference between a jog and running for your life from Yeti or space pirates (or bandits: one of these days he'll remember that key distinction between them). The Doctor strolled right over, looking Billy in the face. Oh yeah, the command structure. Probably constantly in flux, what with people waking up and then being repodded, and no one seemed able to pin down Stacy's logic about that.

"Well, I haven't found my otter yet, so I can help you with your errands," the Doctor said. That otter was still at large and it was probably better for Billy's own peace of mind that he didn't run into it, otherwise they'd find out if that otter had an agenda for Marco or it was generally just anti-human. Billy didn't look like he needs an otter problem right now.

The Doctor reached into his pocket, pulling out a tiny bottle. He'd managed to tinker around with his pockets and make them slightly larger. The Doctor held out the water bottle to Billy. "Here you go!"

[morphitudinous]

Water. The gift of life. Well...not precisely life, but an essential molecule to human function that Billy was extremely eager to replenish. He accepted the bottle, giving the Doctor a grateful look. "No needle and tentacle under the cap. Perfect."

As far as the Doctor's previous adventure before coming to assist Billy so kindly?

Billy thought he'd heard that the Doctor had a tendency to involve himself in scientific time-lordy business that no human could possibly understand, but that particular nugget of information made no sense on the surface. Otter-chasing was hardly a usual concern on the ship. Unless it was the Doctor's pet, or an escapee from Hydroponics carrying a fatal disease transmissible to other species, or it had stolen an important wallet. Were otters attracted to shiny things? He'd have to look that up.

"Why are you pursuing an otter, Doctor? Or is that information classified?"

[makeherblue]

The Doctor was pleased he could help; Billy certainly looked like he could use the drink.

As for that otter:

"Oh no, I don't think a single otter could be classified, no," the Doctor fussed with the pocket of his jacket, but it hadn't gotten any bigger since he'd twiddled around with it last. Bit of a shame there. He'd been hoping maybe it would have optimized by now. "It escaped from the TARDIS when I was sorting things with a boy. Marco, grumpy boy. The otter took a disliking to his face, so..." A shrug that almost looked sheepish. "Best I find it before they run into each other."

He thought Billy would understand.