| Date: 16 December 2007
Characters: Brant Hysmith, The Ninth Doctor Location: hotel hallway, hotel dining room Link to IJ: thread #10157 |
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 "Everything," he lied easily. "Who are you then?" |
 "The second coming of the King of the outer ring of Saturn." |
| "They have queens there," he said tonelessly. |
| "Everyone's a queen after they've come twice," he said, in similar tone. |
| "You're clearly inexperienced with queens." |
| He blinked. "Why do you say that?" |
| "Only twice?" |
| "I didn't say they couldn't come more!"
He had no practical experience. None. |
| "But queen?" he inquired. "Only planet I know they make you queen for coming, the lady in question has to at least 50 times in a 29 hour period."
Yeah, he'd totally missed any other kind of queen reference. |
| "I wasn't being literal, but now I'm kind of thinking my dick's trying to hide itself because that sounds painful." |
| "Great suffering and great joy." |
| He waved his hand and finished his coffee. "You win, I don't know anything, please stop." |
| He laughed at Brant. |
| "...What's funny about winning?" |
| "Your face," he said with actual affection. |
| He just looked deeply wounded. |
| "Your very handsome face," he rolled his eyes. |
| He opened his mouth and kind of half frowned. "You're just mean," he announced, and wandered back over to the coffee station to grab a donut. |
| "I've heard that," he followed Brant, grabbing a muffin. |
| He looked over his shoulder, pastry in his mouth. Rather than pull it out, chew and shoved the entire thing in his mouth, managed to swallow somehow and asked, "From who?" in an extremely mumbly way. |
| "Mostly people I'm mean to." |
| "Maybe you should stop being mean." |
| "Doubtful," he said thoughtfully. |
| "If you act like a really big dick, more people suck up?" |
| "You have a fixation," The Doctor pointed out. |
| "I do not!" |
| "Do too!" |
| "I do not. I've never even." |
| "Never even been obsessed about it?" |
| "No. It's just talk," he shrugged, unapologetically. Where he was from, sex was everywhere, and having it and wanting it and talking about it were just life. |
| "A lotta talk." |
| "Not particularly." |
| "Seems like to me." |
| "You're an alien. You've got to have different standards." |
| "Well, between the two of us, you're an alien." |
| "Then why are you passing a value judgement? Maybe you just talk about it very little." |
| "I've known a lot of humans." |
| "Yeah?" |
| "Yeah." he eyeballed Brant. |
| "How many? From where? How? Why?" |
| "You ask a lot of questions." |
| "I'm curious. Answer some of them? Or explain what kind of alien you are or. Something." |
| "Tell me your name." |
| "Brant Hysmith." |
| "I'm from Gallifrey." he offered. |
| That sounded almost familiar, but almost. Mythical. He tilted his head a little, frowned a bit and repeated it. "Ok." |
| "When are you from?" |
| "The fifty first century." |
| "What planet?" |
| "Silver Devestation." |
| "Are you missing it yet?" |
| "...Some," he admitted, very carefully and. Well, defensively. |
| "Why does that upset you?" |
| "Did I say I was upset?" |
| "You looked it." |
| "I'm not upset," he growled. |
| "What are you then?" |
| "Really confused. Yes, I miss it a little." |
| "It's okay to miss home." |
| "I left it yesterday." |
| "Then it's really okay to miss it." |
| He frowned. "Why is it more okay?" |
| "Because it's more recent." |
| "Doesn't it usually take time to miss things?" |
| "Not always." |
| "Okay," he said simply. "Tell me about your friend." |
| "Which one?" |
| "The one I remind you of." |
| "His name's Jack." |
| "How's he remind you of me?" |
| "Eyes. The way you move. Talk a bit. He's older though." |
| "How much older?" |
| "Twenty years, about." |
| "So if you think I'm 16 that makes him 28?" |
| "Maybe thirty," he smiled. |
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