allpurposescarf | (no subject)

[Even within the confines of the TARDIS, the Doctor has never been the easiest to track down. Especially when it comes to the downtimes between adventures. Which are, admittedly, few and far between, but every now and then he seems to remember that his companions are somewhat less than tolerant of the breakneck pace he seems to prefer, or simply decides that there's no hurry to continue on immediately.

(The latter is, of course, the less common, but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen all the same.)

Today is one of those rare occasions. The TARDIS hums silently to herself as she hovers in the Vortex and the console room is distinctly lacking in any sort of Time Lord presence. In fact, if and when Leela should happen to go looking for the Doctor, he doesn't really seem to be anywhere at all - an odd thing, when he usually seems to spend half of his time just sort of passively filling all available space with his presence. On the other hand, someone with a hunter's keen sense might just pick up the sounds of something large move through one of the nearby hallways. Something large and clawed, at that, given the soft and rhythmic clicking of something hard against the floor. And under even that, there's a the soft whisper of cloth brushing along the ground - whatever is in the TARDIS, it's a very strange sort of something.]

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[There's a grin of his own at that, like he'd expected that to be the answer and is still surprised all the same.]

Up you get, then.

[She is, however, going to need to find her own way onto his back, given that he doesn't seem to think to offer any sort of hand up.]

[She's good and quick about it, working her way up and choosing a stable spot to anchor herself.]

I am ready, TIme Lord. Find the sky.

[He doesn't need to be told twice. In fact, he doesn't so much as offer a comment in return, instead offering only a brief and bobbing nod before launching himself into the air.

It's nothing like what one might expect, either, although his ascent is reasonably smooth as these things go and it's not long at all before they're clear of what would have been the treetops - if there had been any trees nearby.

Nor does he seem to be inclined to stop just yet either, as he revels in the sheer joy of flight.]

[She cannot help her own whoop of glee as they soared. There was little not to rejoice in a flight such as this. This was fun.]

It is good, Doctor! [She patted him, pleased.] Faster? [Of course, she had to ask. ]

Of course it's good.

[Flight always is, and he says it as if it's an honest truth. For him it is, and that's enough. Whoever and whatever else tries to pull him in all sorts of directions no one can ever take this from him.

Faster is harder. He's never been the fastest flier, but he makes an effort all the same, picking up speed as they continue to rise.]

[There is the wind in her hair and she is high above the ground and it is a glorious thing. Leela, warrior of the Sevateem, shared the sky with her friend and it was theirs. This was a good faster, she thought as she leaned out, hugging herself as flat as possible to him else she would only slow them down. Had she said a thing, the words would have been lost to the wind itself.]

[The Doctor, perhaps unsurprisingly, seems to be quite content with the silence. Which is perhaps not to say that he couldn't find a way to manage, but neither is this really the kind of moment that needs anything to be said.

Instead, the moment simply continues on, the only sound the whistling of the wind and the steady flapping of the Doctor's wings. It is, in short, the sort of moment that seems like it could go on forever; just the wind and the sky and the two of them.

...And then the Doctor promptly spoils it by dropping what is easily a good dozen feet, if not more - it's mostly to help pick up a bit more speed, but it comes completely without warning and without any sort of explanation afterwards.]

[Leela hangs on tightly as her stomach attempts to exit her skull and for a moment it is just a strange explosion of emotion. He will not let her fall to the ground below, her is the Doctor, but it is a terrifying moment when her fingers start to slip. It would have been better if there had been some sort of riding harness to tolerate the drop. The air rushing by and the drop knocked her breath from her, and for while, all she saw were bright spots. Leela's fingers dug for purchase as she finally pulled in a breath.

Had the dropping stopped?

Oh, that had not been particularly fun, but she would be ready the next time.]

[Riding harnesses are, unfortunately, not really the sort of thing that are commonplace in Gallifreyan society. And barring that, there aren't very many places that would be willing to accommodate such a request even if he had wanted to bother.

(There is, of course, his scarf, but just at the moment it's not likely to be the easiest of things to grab.)

Still, the dropping has stopped, and he shows no signs of doing so again, for the time being.]