“That’s the spirit!” He grins, looking impish. “The library is nothing compared to what a time engine can do to you. Besides, what does knowing about the library matter when it’ll still try to chomp you while you’re waiting for another one of your human explanations?”
He means well. But if he cared about silly things like money, he’d probably be rich for all the times he’s had to slap a human’s hand from constantly putting it where it’s like to get zapped, chopped, burned or otherwise mutilated. At least Eva is kind enough to give him some warning. The Doctor rolls his weight with the dinghy, his legs slightly bowlegged and he looks for all the world like he would desperately love to have a sailor’s hat on right this second. Of course he’ll probably have to pay more attention to where Eva steps or even looks when they’re close to the time engines, especially if there’s some…glitches, but he supposes he can worry about that when they’re back on land.
By now they can no longer see Xiros, the island long ago fading into the distance, first a dot, and then the blue ocean stretching out into the horizon line. The dinghy chops through the small waves, sending some white foam spraying up every now and then over the low-slung railing.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-04-19 01:02 am (UTC)He means well. But if he cared about silly things like money, he’d probably be rich for all the times he’s had to slap a human’s hand from constantly putting it where it’s like to get zapped, chopped, burned or otherwise mutilated. At least Eva is kind enough to give him some warning. The Doctor rolls his weight with the dinghy, his legs slightly bowlegged and he looks for all the world like he would desperately love to have a sailor’s hat on right this second. Of course he’ll probably have to pay more attention to where Eva steps or even looks when they’re close to the time engines, especially if there’s some…glitches, but he supposes he can worry about that when they’re back on land.
By now they can no longer see Xiros, the island long ago fading into the distance, first a dot, and then the blue ocean stretching out into the horizon line. The dinghy chops through the small waves, sending some white foam spraying up every now and then over the low-slung railing.