004 [visual | location: Fitz's flat (locked from Angelus and Dru] somewhere they can't find me

[rereremembered.livejournal.com]

After getting unceremoniously resurrected, Fitz had moved from Sanctuary to the flat the aliens had brought along with him. He'd barely given the place much thought since stepping aboard the TARDIS all those years ago, but he'd quickly grown to hate it all over again. It was a murky, hopeless dead end which he needed to escape form again.

Dawn's message about Angelus provided plenty of motivation. If staying in groups was called for, then a group he'd find.

He considered sprucing himself up a bit before making his request, but if he was going to be finding someone to live with then honesty was likely the best policy. So here's Fitz, Taxon: mussed hair, stubbly face, and a cigarette dangling from his fingers as he slouches in a battered armchair and smiles sheepishly at the tablet.

"Anyone willing to take in a lodger?" he asked. "Unemployed, smoker, enjoys sleeping late and playing guitar for hours. I will do light housework if properly threatened."

...that was possibly too much honesty but oh well.

007 ∞ [visual || Amy's Living Room]

[iminmynightie.livejournal.com]

The tablet switches on to reveal Amy waving her hands in the air and shaking her booty as a generic pop song plays in the background. Once she discovered that Taxon was now broadcasting radio stations she was all geared up to have the stereo on in the background all the time.

But of course, one couldn't expect the aliens to know what people wanted to hear, so everything had been instrumentals from movies, with the occasional song with lyrics. Amy was tuning in sporadically as a result. There was only so many times she could listen to those overdramatic ballads from movies where someone's lover dies.

She's lucked out today though. Right now the aliens were playing a soundtrack that feels vaguely familiar to her, like from a movie she loved as a kid, and even though that movie was filled with pop songs and was cheesy with a capital C, it's making her feel nostalgic. Hence the dancing and singing like a mad woman.

Her mane of ginger hair is whipping around her head, and the knick knacks on the shelves are shaking as she really gets into it. The song comes to an end and she stops suddenly, out of breath and trying to tame her locks. It's only now that she notices the tablet has been recording, but instead of being embarrassed at being caught, she skips over and picks it up.

"These songs are taking me back!" The next song, from the same pop group as the previous, starts playing and Amy's head bobs from side to side. "I know the songs will go back to rubbish soon, so I have to enjoy this while I can. Does anyone know if this is all the aliens are going to play? Can't we, I don't know, call a request line or something?"