The Doctor ♣ Two (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dododo) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2013-09-23 07:05 am
dododo) wrote in savetheearth2013-09-23 07:05 am
[Video | Cellphone]
[ This expression is a mixture of concerned and confused - very confused. And on the tired side, because he's just come home in the early morning from a long shift but. That's not important. ]
There is a police box in my living room.
...
One of those old telephone boxes they had in London to get a hold of the police, I mean.
[ Which is probably what he's staring at, and he turns the phone around for the network to get a look. And, yep, there it is, smack in the middle of the room, in the brightest of blues, if on the worn side. And very much in the way. ]
I can't open it.
[ He walks over, tries the doors again, both pushing and pulling. ]
Nope.
No one happens to have a key they don't know where it goes to?
[ That's mostly a joke. He sighs, and places his hand on one of the edges. ]
These... Pulses have almost always seemed fairly nonsensical. But I can understand notes, weapons, songs and stories, memories or whatever you're supposed to call them that make no sense and have no context. But this? A police box I can't even open? What is the point of that? Are they trying to tell me I was a police in my past life.
[ That he's still not sure what believe, if that actually is the case with all of them.
He finally turns the camera back on himself. ]
Any theories? I'd be glad to hear them. Or maybe someone has any tips on what to tell people who visit.
[ Maybe he should get rid of it but there's... some part of him who absolutely does not want to do that.
He presses his lips together, and ends the recording. ]
There is a police box in my living room.
...
One of those old telephone boxes they had in London to get a hold of the police, I mean.
[ Which is probably what he's staring at, and he turns the phone around for the network to get a look. And, yep, there it is, smack in the middle of the room, in the brightest of blues, if on the worn side. And very much in the way. ]
I can't open it.
[ He walks over, tries the doors again, both pushing and pulling. ]
Nope.
No one happens to have a key they don't know where it goes to?
[ That's mostly a joke. He sighs, and places his hand on one of the edges. ]
These... Pulses have almost always seemed fairly nonsensical. But I can understand notes, weapons, songs and stories, memories or whatever you're supposed to call them that make no sense and have no context. But this? A police box I can't even open? What is the point of that? Are they trying to tell me I was a police in my past life.
[ That he's still not sure what believe, if that actually is the case with all of them.
He finally turns the camera back on himself. ]
Any theories? I'd be glad to hear them. Or maybe someone has any tips on what to tell people who visit.
[ Maybe he should get rid of it but there's... some part of him who absolutely does not want to do that.
He presses his lips together, and ends the recording. ]
no subject
no subject
I'll have to think about it.
no subject
no subject