The (Twelfth) Doctor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spacerhyme) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2018-02-10 12:57 pm
spacerhyme) wrote in maskormenacelogs2018-02-10 12:57 pm
(open) growing in numbers, growing in speed
WHO: THE DOCTOR & YOU
WHERE: mostly De Chima (#001, shops, parks, restaurants, the university), but could be anywhere else
WHEN: early to mid-Feb
WHAT: CATCH-ALL; the Doctor repairs a guitar, "repairs" a phone booth, goes shopping, gets a gig, explores. just hit me up via PM or![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
bechamel if you'd like a personalized starter! I'm totally open.
WARNINGS: nada
i.SCHOOLHOUSE ROCK
[ Although he technically moved in days ago, one of the house's newest residents has made himself relatively scarce during the week.
He'd stopped by on his first day to check the place out and unload some items and greet anyone who might've been home, but has since only really popped in at odd hours. Generally just to wash up and grab a quick bite out of the fridge before heading right back out again. There's simply been too much to explore in this new universe to justify wasting time in a house, you know? He's done enough sitting around lately (seventy years' worth), he's itching see everything, go everywhere. It's a whole new world, baby!
Except for today, when he's definitely home and he's definitely made his presence known. Somehow, he's acquired a vintage 80's superstrat guitar in a lovely shade of blue, though the thing's clearly suffered from many, many years of abuse and neglect. From the looks of it, it was either a cheap pawnshop acquisition, or he fished it out of the garbage. But he's been working on it diligently all day, cleaning and repairing his new toy with incredible efficiency and tools so conveniently provided by his day job, and bits of scrap (also dubiously acquired.) As the hours pass and as it starts to look, and sound, more like an actual guitar, he gives it a test run.
And no, he hasn't got an amp— the sound's actually coming through any speakers in his vicinity. TV, phone, radio, anything. (He may have made some modifications.) Hope you enjoy some Ziggy Stardust, #001; impossibly, it actually sounds quite good on this thing.
Eventually, he may even take this impromptu show outdoors, noodling on his instrument in the backyard. The neighbors surely won't mind. ]
ii. THE PHANTOM PHONE BOOTH
[ Located in a particularly shady patch of scraggly real estate outside one De Chima park, there's been a very old, disused red and white phone booth that you've probably never even once noticed. For decades it's sat unattended and in a state of utter disrepair, its glass cracked and door smashed in and its phone hanging off the receiver. Scrubby weeds have nestled into any gaps in the concrete around its base, its white roof has been painted even whiter with bird droppings, and the graffiti's terribly indecent. Nobody's given the poor thing a second glance—
until now.
Saddled with the government-assigned job of Phone Booth Repairman (for reasons! he can't fathom!), the Doctor has actually, shockingly, bothered to show up to work for once. In... a manner of speaking, anyway. And as this is clearly the phone booth in the most dire need of repair in all of De Chima, it's where he's focused all of his efforts entirely. Except that these are the Doctor's efforts, and someone's probably going to regret this.
The phone booth is currently covered with what appears to be the debris of an exploded RadioShack, or perhaps it's been the victim of a botched Borg assimilation— a growing network of metal and plastic and circuitry and wiring from several disparate devices have been affixed, for some reason, to the exterior of the booth. Everything from spinning reel-to-reel tape recorder wheels, to re-purposed keypads, circuit boards, servos, flashing strings of LED lights, and bits of ticking brass clockwork. None of it looks like it should be remotely functional, yet it's making an awful lot of whirring noise (that a phone booth probably shouldn't be making.) It all seems at once a haphazard mess and completely intentional. The interior's doing no better, either: it's been scrubbed down, sure, but the eponymous phone has been torn out entirely and left in a heap in the grass, which slightly defeats the purpose. It's been replaced with what appears to be an old keyboard and something like a '93 MessagePad and a clock radio. There's definitely an electric kettle on the shelf beneath the tablet, and a gaudy faux-stained glass light fixture hands from the ceiling. It flickers obnoxiously.
A sign hangs in one window reading, In order, eventually.
What is it all for? What does it mean!? Lord knows.
But the industrious and obviously insane repairperson responsible for this budding technological monstrosity is outside it right now. Fiddling with bits of machinery, focused solely on the task at hand. He's even wearing an orange safety vest over his usual coat, so you know he's legit. He's surrounded by a pile of junk as well, a vast majority of which has no apparent connection to anything else here: socks, a paddle ball, a couple packs of thumbtacks, toy dinosaurs, a can of Cheez Whiz... etc. (Several pears have been tossed aside.) This has already attracted him an audience of a few birds and a squirrel.
Maybe someone should check in on this, or something... ]
iii. EVERYWHERE ELSE
[ But when he's doing none of the above, he's all over, at all hours.
He's used to having centuries' worth of hoarded stuff at his disposal, but newfound powers aside, here he's had to build his collection from the ground up— and he's been working hard at it. (It is, if nothing else, a good reason to get around, and a decent distraction.) Haggling in thrift stores, trawling yard sales, popping into smaller shops and perusing stores. If you own a shop in any Porter city, he may even visit you.
He can also be spotted at De Chima University, having a chat with professors or deans, or just casually strolling the campus. Touring, really. He's here for something, but who knows what...
And after he's got a functioning electric guitar, he'll begin to find bookings in cafes and bars around the various cities. Pick any smaller, casual, probably hipster-ish venue with live music, and you may just spot him on stage, playing anything from 90's pop hits to 70's space rock to re-imagined classical with aplomb. Seated on a stool with a look of deep concentration and serenity, it's clear this old dude's in his element.
Got any requests? ]
WHERE: mostly De Chima (#001, shops, parks, restaurants, the university), but could be anywhere else
WHEN: early to mid-Feb
WHAT: CATCH-ALL; the Doctor repairs a guitar, "repairs" a phone booth, goes shopping, gets a gig, explores. just hit me up via PM or
WARNINGS: nada
i.
[ Although he technically moved in days ago, one of the house's newest residents has made himself relatively scarce during the week.
He'd stopped by on his first day to check the place out and unload some items and greet anyone who might've been home, but has since only really popped in at odd hours. Generally just to wash up and grab a quick bite out of the fridge before heading right back out again. There's simply been too much to explore in this new universe to justify wasting time in a house, you know? He's done enough sitting around lately (seventy years' worth), he's itching see everything, go everywhere. It's a whole new world, baby!
Except for today, when he's definitely home and he's definitely made his presence known. Somehow, he's acquired a vintage 80's superstrat guitar in a lovely shade of blue, though the thing's clearly suffered from many, many years of abuse and neglect. From the looks of it, it was either a cheap pawnshop acquisition, or he fished it out of the garbage. But he's been working on it diligently all day, cleaning and repairing his new toy with incredible efficiency and tools so conveniently provided by his day job, and bits of scrap (also dubiously acquired.) As the hours pass and as it starts to look, and sound, more like an actual guitar, he gives it a test run.
And no, he hasn't got an amp— the sound's actually coming through any speakers in his vicinity. TV, phone, radio, anything. (He may have made some modifications.) Hope you enjoy some Ziggy Stardust, #001; impossibly, it actually sounds quite good on this thing.
Eventually, he may even take this impromptu show outdoors, noodling on his instrument in the backyard. The neighbors surely won't mind. ]
ii. THE PHANTOM PHONE BOOTH
[ Located in a particularly shady patch of scraggly real estate outside one De Chima park, there's been a very old, disused red and white phone booth that you've probably never even once noticed. For decades it's sat unattended and in a state of utter disrepair, its glass cracked and door smashed in and its phone hanging off the receiver. Scrubby weeds have nestled into any gaps in the concrete around its base, its white roof has been painted even whiter with bird droppings, and the graffiti's terribly indecent. Nobody's given the poor thing a second glance—
until now.
Saddled with the government-assigned job of Phone Booth Repairman (for reasons! he can't fathom!), the Doctor has actually, shockingly, bothered to show up to work for once. In... a manner of speaking, anyway. And as this is clearly the phone booth in the most dire need of repair in all of De Chima, it's where he's focused all of his efforts entirely. Except that these are the Doctor's efforts, and someone's probably going to regret this.
The phone booth is currently covered with what appears to be the debris of an exploded RadioShack, or perhaps it's been the victim of a botched Borg assimilation— a growing network of metal and plastic and circuitry and wiring from several disparate devices have been affixed, for some reason, to the exterior of the booth. Everything from spinning reel-to-reel tape recorder wheels, to re-purposed keypads, circuit boards, servos, flashing strings of LED lights, and bits of ticking brass clockwork. None of it looks like it should be remotely functional, yet it's making an awful lot of whirring noise (that a phone booth probably shouldn't be making.) It all seems at once a haphazard mess and completely intentional. The interior's doing no better, either: it's been scrubbed down, sure, but the eponymous phone has been torn out entirely and left in a heap in the grass, which slightly defeats the purpose. It's been replaced with what appears to be an old keyboard and something like a '93 MessagePad and a clock radio. There's definitely an electric kettle on the shelf beneath the tablet, and a gaudy faux-stained glass light fixture hands from the ceiling. It flickers obnoxiously.
A sign hangs in one window reading, In order, eventually.
What is it all for? What does it mean!? Lord knows.
But the industrious and obviously insane repairperson responsible for this budding technological monstrosity is outside it right now. Fiddling with bits of machinery, focused solely on the task at hand. He's even wearing an orange safety vest over his usual coat, so you know he's legit. He's surrounded by a pile of junk as well, a vast majority of which has no apparent connection to anything else here: socks, a paddle ball, a couple packs of thumbtacks, toy dinosaurs, a can of Cheez Whiz... etc. (Several pears have been tossed aside.) This has already attracted him an audience of a few birds and a squirrel.
Maybe someone should check in on this, or something... ]
iii. EVERYWHERE ELSE
[ But when he's doing none of the above, he's all over, at all hours.
He's used to having centuries' worth of hoarded stuff at his disposal, but newfound powers aside, here he's had to build his collection from the ground up— and he's been working hard at it. (It is, if nothing else, a good reason to get around, and a decent distraction.) Haggling in thrift stores, trawling yard sales, popping into smaller shops and perusing stores. If you own a shop in any Porter city, he may even visit you.
He can also be spotted at De Chima University, having a chat with professors or deans, or just casually strolling the campus. Touring, really. He's here for something, but who knows what...
And after he's got a functioning electric guitar, he'll begin to find bookings in cafes and bars around the various cities. Pick any smaller, casual, probably hipster-ish venue with live music, and you may just spot him on stage, playing anything from 90's pop hits to 70's space rock to re-imagined classical with aplomb. Seated on a stool with a look of deep concentration and serenity, it's clear this old dude's in his element.
Got any requests? ]