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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"What is it?" Petra asks first - slightly amused by the by-play, but still waiting for an answer before she accepts the paper.

"No, I wasn't---I wasn't actually calling you silly," the Doctor explains, a little flustered by Doul's response. "I meant---that---"

He turns to Petrana and puts on a big smile. "Cupcake?"

Doul doesn't bother to even give the Doctor a Look in rebuttal. Rather, he's going to be quietly entertained by his 'subtle' distraction technique.

"No," she says, amused, "but thank you. Doul, if you would?"

Take the piece of paper, that is. Petra is hardly going to play courier for someone she barely knows, but she might delegate the task to someone in her employ. (Someone with implicit permission to read it himself and use his discretion as he sees fit.)

"What is your project?" she asks the Doctor, instead, innocently.

"Escape, of course," the Doctor says, tearing a piece of cupcake off and popping it into his mouth. "And all the complications that go into it. Unfortunately, right now, that all involves stacking up bits of metal until I've got the right amount to start working."

Doul motions that if the Doctor is willing, he'll take and read the note before bringing it to Lady Morgana.

"With the new economy in place, how long do you think it'll take before you've the metal you need?" Which is another way to say 'how long before everyone need to hide in the basement?'

Someone really needs to bring a bomb shelter as their programmed location. Just a thought.

"I hope it'll be safe," she says, mildly, thinking absently of the kind of fits Ce'Nedra can throw when she thinks someone is being careless with what she cares about (e.g. themselves).

The Doctor gives Doul a nod. There's not much on the note, just a letter that reads Tea? We can discuss that thing I promised you. -D It's vague enough that the Doctor doesn't imagine Doul will look into it. At least, he hopes not. He also hopes the familiar paper-and-ink note might make Morgana more comfortable in meeting him.

"Ah, money," the Doctor says, shaking his head. "Don't worry too much about money, never had use for it myself. But! I'll be working on this in segments, so it might take a while."

That's his way of saying 'Not going to tell you.' Though he does turn to Petrana and smile. "Course it's safe."

Doul openly reads the note in front of the Doctor before frowning and handing it back to him. "Whatever your plans are, I've no complaint helping you move something awkward, but I won't carry messages I don't understand."

There's only so much Doul is willing to risk by being acquainted with the Doctor.

"Hmm?" the Doctor asks, looking over at the note. "That's the point in being vague, isn't it? She'll understand what I mean, but I don't particularly want other people to know what I mean."

All the same, he does need him to forward the note. "I just promised I'd tell her something, is all."

"You're welcome to tell her whatever you care to, but I know at least some of what you're capable of and I have no desire to get involved in business of that nature," he says in a tone that seems to imply the phrase 'do you really think I'm quite that stupid?'.

The Doctor sighs. "All right." He snatches the letter back up and resolves to leave it at Camelot when he gets out of this ridiculous work situation.

"Wait a minute, do you really think I'm planning on doing something to hurt the Lady Morgana?"

"You gentlemen seem to have something to work out," Petra says, mildly - faintly amused, and making her mind up to pump Doul for information when he returns to the castle. "I'll let you play amongst yourselves. Be good."

...madam. (Suffice to say it doesn't sound as maternal from her as it would from the Countess.)

"Of course, Lady." Doul does not smile, but there's the hint of something that might, under very poor lighting, be close to the start of an expression of sorts.

"I don't know your intentions toward her, myself, or Taxon in general and your insistence on vague and secret messages doesn't work to reassure me." Which is to say, he has no reason to trust anything the Doctor says or does.

He gives Petrana a nod and a wave.

"I've got no intentions towards her, believe me," the Doctor says. The very idea! In a realm of women who are his type and are not his type, Morgana is far on the spectrum of "not his type".

"Just things we need to discuss that I don't think she'd want repeated. So! I'll just forward it to one of those Extra blokes nearby. Maybe try to get a conversation with them."

"If she doesn't want them repeated, I'm sure she'd not be pleased that I brought the message." Doul is fairly sure that 'intentions' can cover a wide range of situations that he has no desire to be involved in.

He's not about to tell the Doctor that there's no point in talking to the Extras; they're empty in a way that even the cheapest dead servant was.

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