taxonomites | twelve | location: streets of taxon |

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twelve | location: streets of taxon |

The Doctor has to start working eventually. And while nobody hates the idea of working quite like the Doctor hates working, he hates the idea of being back in prison even more than that.

So, behold the Doctor, carrying things from a replication unit to the square where he's working on his next project. At present, the things he's creating are three-foot pieces of metal. He's spitting out a few at a time, and then moving them to a large pile where he has more already stacked up.

There's also a series of papers he's had made up sitting not far off from the stacks of sheet metal. They read: MISSING: ONE SONIC SCREWDRIVER. HONESTLY, NOW, STEALING ISN'T RIGHT AT ALL, IS IT?

Oh, he's also got a plate of pink-frosted cupcakes. A Time Lord's gotta eat, y'all.

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Speaking of work, Doul isn't exactly on holiday at the moment, but his usual employer is not herself and as such has little for him to do. Among other reasons, this bout of idleness has inspired the Liveman to lock away his sword and take to the streets of Taxon for a long, (hopefully) exhausting run.

The Doctor, popping a big bite of cupcake into his mouth, notices said Liveman running and becomes instantly worried. After all, where the Doctor comes from, one doesn't run for recreation.

"Doul!" he calls, around the mouthful of food.

A quick stop and turn in place and he's facing the Doctor, "Yes?" If whatever he's yelling about isn't immediately important, Doul is going to stop and take a drink from his waterbottle while slowly walking toward the other man.

He swallows the bite of cake. "You all right? Didn't take you for the recreational jogging sort. Course, didn't see you much outside of your work, anyway, but, still."

"I've no one to spar against, and I don't see any reason to hunt on a regular basis, but I need to move." That way he can eat cake when he chooses. :9

"How is your modified freedom treating you?"

"I can understand that. Did a run halfway across Taxon when I first got out," he admits.

He nods to the pile of steel. "Very...modified freedom-y."

"There are days when I feel like a trapped cat in a private zoo. Running does nothing to stave off that particular thought, but it helps drown out the anger it brings," he says with a little more honesty than Doul usually offers.

"So I see."

"I know what you mean," the Doctor says. He grabs another set of sheet metal and tosses it onto the pile. "Hopefully, this'll take the holding power off of the bars, eh?"

He's stronger than a human, but he's not really cut out for manual labor. After another moment, he goes back to conversation. "You've seen Petrana, then?"

Fortunately, Doul is well suited to a bit of work and if there's no complaint from the Doctor, will start to help move about whatever heavy objects need moving.

"Oh yes, I have. What do you think of this latest glitch?"

Complaint? The Doctor will be positively thrilled for the help. He steps over to lift a few himself.

"Are you sure it's a glitch?" he asks. "Not an entirely new person arrived in Taxon?"

"I thought of it, but I'm confident that if that was the case, I'd've found Lady Petrana's body by now." Not to mention that the glitched woman appeared in Petrana's chambers and not the arrival room.

"What makes you think she's dead?" the Doctor asks, genuinely concerned. "Maybe she's just gone into hiding, or 'gone home', whatever that means."

"I don't think she's dead, just that if she were, I would know. Also, if she were to go into hiding, she'd tell me, and if she went home, her castle would've gone as well." Therefore, that combined with the other information at hand is enough to convince him that the Witch Petra is a glitch and not a new arrival.

The Doctor takes Doul's words, processes them, and nods.

"All right, so we've got a glitch on our hands, then," he says. "Any idea how long they usually last?"

"At least a few days, no more than a month, I'd say." He's not usually the most talkative of men, but Doul considers it a part of his job to keep an eye on the network.

"Mmmm," the Doctor nods. "Seemed like that for the Master, I think. A few weeks as Yana, and then he was back to himself. Still, he didn't have any physical changes, and she's got---" He gestures to the side of his face.

"Among other things, yes." Although, he's not one to complain about large, visible scarring. "I am confident that both versions of Lady Petrana will come out of this well enough, and, should the current woman do anything untoward, the good people of Taxon won't hold anything against our usual lady."

"Oh, she's been, well, incredibly ladylike to me, so far," the Doctor says with a small shrug. He knows Petrana Proper means a good deal to Doul, even if he has no idea how, so he won't mention preferring this new Petrana to her.

"Good." Doul doesn't have enough information about either Petrana to form an opinion on which he'd rather have in Taxon or which he'd rather work for. "Since we are all likely due to be glitched at some point in our stay, it's best to know that there's a tolerance for it."

The Doctor turns to Doul. "What? We're all due?"

He thinks about all the people he's been, all the people he could be. This is a dangerous situation for him. Especially if he glitches into his sixth self, he'll never live it down!

"It stands to reason, don't you think?" Doul takes a moment here to stand back, close his eyes, and turn toward the 'sun'. There's always the taste of probabilities in the air and it's both a comfort and something to incite terror.

Speak of the devil and she shall appear- not that Petra is the devil. Probably. The Countess may be leery of wandering Taxon alone, but her counterpart apparently has no such concerns, unattended by even the usual Extra footman when she catches sight of the Doctor and Doul and changes direction to stroll over to them.

"Gentlemen," she greets, smiling.

Doul's action is interesting to the Doctor. He can't quite tell what he's looking for, what he's trying to feel. There's very little he can peg down about Doul, and that's rather exciting, in a way. There should be more people out there he can't peg down.

Speaking of...

The Doctor gives the woman a smile, something he probably wouldn't have offered to the Countess. But, well, he wasn't imprisoned by this Petrana.

"Out and about again?" he says.

Doul opens his eyes and there's a moment where he looks 'different' somehow; a little less achingly tragic or maybe he's just pleased at the warmth of spring.

"My Lady," he says with a motion towards deference.

Properly speaking, Lady Petrana is - as she eventually confided to Doul - the Baroness Petrana, of the House of Borune. Ce'Nedra had barely had to twist her uncle's arm to get what she'd wanted on that score, and while being adopted Tolnedran nobility comes with its own host of difficulties in the heart of the Alorn nations, it smoothes over where she'd lacked formality and makes Ce'Nedra feel better about being surrounded by bloody Alorns.

While Petra might, sometimes, be a little more comfortable unattached to anything, she understands how useful these things can be, and she takes such deference as her due with an amiable smile for the both of them.

"Indeed I am. I may visit with Lady Morgana, shortly. Am I interrupting?"

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