𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒 | @aeternxs

The Central rotor of The TARDIS console churned quietly, the engines wheezing and groaning as the Police Box dragged its way through the vortex, speed slow and casual as the lights in the console remained faded. There was a faint illumination in the back of the console room, and there in the chair sat 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓. his face was sunken and neutral, perpetually. He was lounging in the chair quietly, a book opened quietly. Something he was thumbing through absentmindedly. 

Eventually, he shut it, reading the title. "I wonder what was so restricted about you?" He hummed quietly before resting the book on the table right near the armrest of the chair. He watched the TARDIS rotor sink up and down slowly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose before eventually standing up and walking toward it. On the rack hung a weathered blue cotton coat, whilst The Doctor works a brown waistcoat and a ruffled white shirt, patterned tie wrapped underneath the collar. Right now, his sleeves were rolled up which showcased a piece of purple cloth wrapped around his right hand. His trousers were a dull green, and he wore knee-high laced brown boots. 

Quietly, he began to set coordinates into the TARDIS console. "Right, old girl... I think we've had enough silence for a little bit, haven't we?" He talked aloud to the ship, before suddenly it beeped, as if some cosmic coincidence had triggered a well-time reply from the ship. Reaching up, The Doctor pulled on a chain connected to the bottom of the TARDIS monitor, which was connected to a scissor arm on the ceiling. "The temporal collision alarm? But I thought I disabled that ages ago. It never went off—" The TARDIS suddenly rocked, sparks and flames shooting out from the console as the ship roared in reply to having struck something in the vortex.

"Easy now, old girl! Easy!" The Doctor moved to try and do some type of damage control as he flicked a variety of switches and levers, throwing one switch all the way to the side as the console began to slow down. "Either the TARDIS is having a very big stomach bug, or we've just hit something in the vortex—" The Doctor suddenly yelped when the TARDIS rocked again and more sparks shot out from the top of the console and the nearby controls on his side. The Doctor reached for an emergency lever.

"Right! I've got no choice but to put us down somewhere!" He dragged the emergency lever down, and the TARDIS engines began to land as The Doctor watched various signs of extreme damage or stress on the console cease altogether. No more sparks, no more flames. Once the engine stopped, The TARDIS released a hiss across its console that indicated it would need some time to rest. The Doctor began to circle the TARDIS console, knowing he'd need to fetch his Sonic Screwdriver from his jacket to scan the damage— but he stopped when he circled the console, revealing something that was previously obstructed from his vision.

A woman, on the TARDIS floor— picking herself up, but still seemingly coming too. The Doctor's eyes widened and shocked as they were— still balanced out by his overall numb and neutral expression. "...Ah." He hummed.

Kashimo Hajime was an incarnated sorcerer who pledged no allegiance to anything or anyone... though, as of now, it did him well to behave.

Even with the small buzzing of electricity around, he remained quiet and more patient than usual. He glanced over to the other person in the room, Freyja, before turning back to the documents.

❝ Do you like it here? ❞ was the question to break the silence. Kashimo liked asking people various things, mostly to rile others up, but this seemed sincere enough.

His hand reached out to pick up another piece of document;

Names of the deceased, cause of death, everything in between.

Kashimo couldn't quite put it yet, but Freyja didn't seem from around here, or rather, from this time.

He didn't really press it, however. Call it a hunch or a guess, Kashimo didn't mind either way. There were far weirder situations; hell, this body wasn't his, only granted by that sorcerer with stitches...

❝ I mean to say is... ❞ he lifted the piece of paper with all the reported deaths of the last incident, holding it up to Freyja's face.

❝ You sorcerers are content with remaining as is? I can never understand those that don't strive for more, especially when allies are oh so important to those of today... I am asking for for opinion, if it wasn't clear. ❞

there was a time pudding believed her homeland would stand tall forever. who could ever purposely oppose against the great charlotte linlin and win? no one, because her mother's reputation was larger than life and her infamous rampage even larger - yet now, as pudding stands in what's left of chocolat town, all she sees is an ice covered graveyard.

Those pale blue eyes locked with hers, and he reached up to casually brush some of his strands of hair out of his face, tossing his head so dramatically as he did. "That may be true, but I really do not care for it... Your warnings will just go in and out of my hearing range."

It was strange, as he normally never really tried to ever start a fight with anyone. Though, was this even really considered as one, or would be? It was a challenge from him, surely, but he could not stop himself. There was something about this one that actually intrigued him enough to be so bold and reckless. Perhaps, a part of himself that missed having to earn a good battle... To struggle.

Joshua's grasp tightened on their neck, feeling his power within wanting to burst out, and almost uncontrollably so. He's not felt so alarmed in quite a long while. There was something almost instinctual about how fast he reacted, and how intense his inner Phoenix wanted him to simply snap that neck. He resisted it, and cursed at himself for even thinking the vile thought. Though, those words startled him, and he brought his attention to look into their eyes.

"What... what are you??" He asked, and the Phoenix inside him continued to have him feeling so on edge. For once, he had to try and tame it's wild energy. Those wings wanting to come out and spread them with warmth. Wanting to protect him.

The King stared at her, all six eyes locked with her form, watching and waiting. They definitely did enjoy the attention, and one of the heads, the left head, San, was loving it the most; allowing himself to nearly purr aloud. Once again Ni went over to nip at him with his aggressive tendacies, while Ichi continued to keep eye-contact with the other.

"Aliens... Hm. Never have I thought of us in that way. I suppose to those of this world, we are." Briefly, he glanced off to the side, to one of the many cities that was not too far from their current location. For the moment, they were just on the outskirts of it all, a little away from any eyes that cared to spot them. Just beyond the treeline, and several miles off. Civilization would be spared, for now.

"Question...." He spoke so soft, and so suddenly, descending from the sky with his one-wing already out and flapping. Those emerald-green eyes locked with this individual, full of contempt and some confusion. He truly did not know what he was sensing from them, but it was enough to have him pause in his wonderful adventures of bothering a certain blonde, in order to scope out this potential enemy. "... And answer me truthfully. What are you...?"

Suguru looked up at the dark sky, eyes following down the raindrops falling within the radius of light from the lamp post. The rain almost looked to fall in slow motion when he followed its trajectory.

Then his eyes fell back on the woman in front of him and, with a swift flick of his wrist, in no time a stingray curse appeared. It glided in the air, and floated above her to shield her from the rain.

The younger boy walked up to her, putting his umbrella away when he stepped into the shelter his curse provided.