continuum_of_drs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
continuum_of_drs) wrote2007-04-10 03:53 pm
continuum_of_drs) wrote2007-04-10 03:53 pm
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((Continued from http://community.livejournal.com/prime_education/24097.html?view=957729#t957729 ))
The outside of the vehicle was familiar enough. It never changed, really, except for the breif time it was an armoire, a pipe organ, and a set of doors on Telos....
The inside, however, was probably not what Jack was expecting.
Oh, it was still transdimensional. It was still imbued with a strange life in the very air itself, a sourceless light, a barely audible hum.
But wow.... had it ever gone ... sf. Gone were the organic struts, the gangplank, the metal deck, the wooden doors with the telephone on the inside. Everything surrounded them in white and gold. The console was a slick, eight-sided affair, dominating a more or less empty-looking room. Controls covered it in an orderly pattern not unlike that of a Concorde's panels, and the time rotor had become a salmon-lighted affair within a crystal-and-glass column.
"Well, this brings back memories," Eight muttered. Two spared him an unreadable look before darting through the door into the space beyond.
The outside of the vehicle was familiar enough. It never changed, really, except for the breif time it was an armoire, a pipe organ, and a set of doors on Telos....
The inside, however, was probably not what Jack was expecting.
Oh, it was still transdimensional. It was still imbued with a strange life in the very air itself, a sourceless light, a barely audible hum.
But wow.... had it ever gone ... sf. Gone were the organic struts, the gangplank, the metal deck, the wooden doors with the telephone on the inside. Everything surrounded them in white and gold. The console was a slick, eight-sided affair, dominating a more or less empty-looking room. Controls covered it in an orderly pattern not unlike that of a Concorde's panels, and the time rotor had become a salmon-lighted affair within a crystal-and-glass column.
"Well, this brings back memories," Eight muttered. Two spared him an unreadable look before darting through the door into the space beyond.
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Jack inhaled deeply and let the Doctor go, having said all he could think to say without overstepping some boundaries. He turned back to face Balthazar, all emotion gone from his face and voice. "Yes. I want to know who this psychopomp is and what exactly the arrangements are as you're making them." Caveat emptor, after all. The Captain reached inside his jacket pocket and removed a business card with his contact information on it, offering it to Balthazar blankly.
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"I usually ask for a certain amount of choice from the ... donater," he remarks, laughter lurking in his voice. "Not complete freedom of choice, of course, as I hardly want to end up with the memory of the largest rubber band ball you ever constructed. But that would just be cruel now, wouldn't it? Don't trouble yourself, Jack, we'll work out those details in private, hmm?"
They make a funny little triangle, Balthazar looking at the Doctor, the Doctor looking at Jack, and Jack at Balthazar.
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