Video

[thecricketer]

[he starts off with an assuring smile, even as the fog rolls around him]

Hello. I'm the Doctor; I've met quite a few people already. I don't seem to be affected by the fog, so I wanted to offer my -

[he stops abruptly, brow furrowing]

Did anyone hear that?

[he turns, then, focusing off-camera - and then the colour drains from his face, the strength from his voice]

Adric?

Comments

[Spam]

[thecricketer]

[with a faint smirk] That depends on one's definition, I suppose. I did my utmost to be very childish. [he taps his lips] Oddly enough, it seemed to agitate people.

[Spam]

[truth_is_cold]

I somehow find myself inclined to believe that might have been intentional. [And again, the personal space was invaded- but only slightly. He touched the bright hem of his frock coat.]

This doesn't look like a scientist's outfit.

[Spam]

[thecricketer]

[the Doctor's getting used to that, and he doesn't withdraw from the touch; on the contrary, his smile deepens] No, and it certainly doesn't exist on Gallifrey. They've never given cricket the slightest thought, I'm sure.

[Spam]

[truth_is_cold]

Cricket? [With that distant sort of awareness that comes with someone recognizing a game they'd heard mentioned in an old book rather than a game they'd ever seen actively played. Not that he has anything against sports- he enjoys them quite a bit, even if his preferences for games are tactical.] This is what they [wore] wear?

[Spam]

[thecricketer]

More or less, yes. I added the frock coat and forwent the pads. [his eyes suddenly widen] I think I might - [he slips a hand in his pocket, rummaging around] Ah!

[and he pulls out a smooth red ball, holding it out to Rhade] This is a cricket ball. Came in very useful, once.

[Spam]

[truth_is_cold]

[That pocket had looked a lot flatter a moment before, and as soon as he took the ball he also leaned in and tugged the pocket open to look into it.] Do you have a hidden panel in here?

[Spam]

[thecricketer]

[the pocket looks far deeper than it ought, crowded with entirely too many bits and bobs; with a sly grin] Something like that, yes.

[Spam]

[truth_is_cold]

[He would be tempted to jam his arm down into his pocket if he weren't concerned the boneblades would stick. So instead he pats around the fabric, feeling to see if it was as flat as it looked outside, but then looks again at the cavernous inside.

Finally, half in humor, he looks at the Doctor.] I think the fog finally got to me.

[Spam]

[thecricketer]

[the Doctor shakes his head, grin lingering] No, your mind is perfectly sound.

This coat is rather unique.

[Spam]

[truth_is_cold]

[He gives him a sort of off-kilter smile.]

I believe that's an understatement. But I am impressed. [And once again, he returned the Doctor's personal space to him, tactile juggling the cricket ball over his hand to test the weight.]

Would you like to show me? Cricket, that is. No one plays it anymore.

[But he likes games.]

[Spam]

[thecricketer]

[oh, his smile is just delighted now] I would love to. I have a cricket pitch, actually, in - [and his face falls] In my TARDIS.

[Spam]

[truth_is_cold]

[He offers him the ball back.]

What's a game if you can't make adjustments to suit need?

[Spam]

[thecricketer]

[the Doctor accepts, catching it a few times as he smiles] Very true.