[closed] What's the use of five billion languages now

[alwaysalright]

The Doctor's in the middle of having tea when the ripple runs through the rift. It makes his hair stand on end and leaves him feeling a bit queasy, so it must have been a strong one. Better go check it out.

He abandons his tea half drunk, walking briskly back to the console room and skipping up the steps. He fiddles with the controls a bit, then pulls the screen over to take a look at it.

He continues looking for several seconds.

When the screen refuses to give him anything of meaning, he fiddles with more controls, but all it gives him is more gibberish. Then he hits the monitor, but that doesn't make any difference either.

"What's wrong with you today?" he asks, giving her a worried and confused nudge with his mind. "Eh?"

Comments

[alwaysalright]

Right. So not just them. Slightly bigger problem. But you know what this means? It means they're not alone. He tries to reassure her of this: more people affected means more people trying to fix it. It also means this is not a targeted attack or a malfunction. They'll be fine.

Sighing as he spots the newly arrived kitten trying to follow him up the stairs, he goes to pick it up. The problem with trying to figure these things out is that since they seem to be tied to strong emotions, they only show up when he's thoroughly distracted.

Now that he has some more details about the weird rift effects, he inquires about her general state. Disregarding the disturbing and stressful communication problem, is she still alright?

[theoldgirl]

Knowing they're not the only ones does reassure her; not only will more people try to fix it, but there's also the hope that it's temporary, that the next spike in rift energy will negate the current low-level distortion field. She tries to agree with his hopefulness by communicating this thought, which comes across as a taste of her fundamental faith in Time itself and its ability to cure all ills.

With that she calms down some, and upon his question conducts a more thorough diagnostic. Then she's able to confirm that she is fine, apart from the initial shock she isn't experiencing any pain or malfunctions. She follows this up with a general sense of inquiry - what now?

[alwaysalright]

He shares his relief at her not having any other issues, and gives the console a pat. Aside from them hurting when the other one is in pain, it would be a distraction from the most baffling issue.

He doesn't reply at once, considering the matter. He hops down the stairs to the hatstand and digs into his coat pockets, locating his phone after a few moments. All scrambled. Useless. The TARDIS would probably be able to contact someone still, but it's not much help if they can't communicate with people at the other end.

No, better to dive into it than sit in here where he can't do much good. He communicates this, it coming across mostly as restlessness and an itch to investigate, along with the desire for her company. What with the Doctor not being able to talk - which is probably one of his least favourite things - and their difficulty connecting properly over distances, he doesn't want to leave her here.

[theoldgirl]

His desire to go out and investigate doesn't come as a surprise, but his request for her company is unexpected. She still hasn't really gotten used to being able to join him on his 'adventures', especially since she can't do that in her own universe, not being allowed to affect events there. But it's a good thought; she'll feel a lot better staying in some form of contact with him, and the presence of her physical body should help her focus and strengthen their telepathic bond.

So she conveys her agreement, and a minute later her humanoid form enters the console room, her expression tight with concern. She joins him by the door and looks up at him expectantly.