#am--5-30

When he had picked up the watch, he had expected a quick answer on what happened to his daughter.

What he hadn't expected was being pulled along for a month long expedition. Half of which involved verse jumping and half which involved working with her stuck as a red filly. Constant running, at least two asthma attacks, and a new slice across his left shin was what that experience left him in.

So when he returned two weeks later in his own time, in his own apartment, he threw the poor watch to his bed, wagging his finger at the thing. "NOW WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? I ASKED you how Akiri was doing! Not to activate protocol for jumping!"

The eight-sided watch was glowing bright blue then, practically screaming at Brent in a voice only he heard. And a spark of electricity traveled over, shocking him and making the Hunter yelp.

"I didn't say that! NOW. Gimme a straight answer. How is Akiri Mhera McKinney?"

The glow died down a bit as the watch answered.

"....I see." He yanked off his coat then, laying it on the bed. "...How long til she'll respond?"

Another glimmer of blue.

"That long? Christ... And there's no way around the time block?"

The blue glimmer sparked again.

"Hey, I was just asking, Alina! ....Fine. Guess I'll just... Be patient." He went to the kitchen, heading to the fridge. "....I'm getting it, just hang on!" Opening the fridge, Brent pulled out a beer from inside and a bottle of lavender oil from the counter. A quick walk to the bedroom again, he uncapped the oil and dripped a few drops on the watch's face.

"...There. You just recharge."

The watch's-Alina's- glow died down again, and a timer started on her face. 2:19:42. Two days, nineteen hours, and forty-two minutes until she'd be able to work again. Brent sat on the bed, uncapping the beer and starting to drink it.

There was a squelching sound and a knock at Brent's door.

But he hadn't come right away. No.... He had pushed himself into a literal corner and had refused to come out since making his announcement. He'd gotten calls from doctors, updating him on how his little girl was, but he'd stayed silent in the corner. Just...Building up this rage inside him. His eyes were nearly a full black color, and his own side was glowing through his clothes. 

But then there was that groan.

Slowly standing up, Brent grabbed a huge duffel bag he'd left in the living room, walking towards the door. When he opened it, he was met with the sight of Rowan. Or... At least, what remained of him. His stomach was sliced open, blood still dribbling from various limbs, and...Oh how sweet revenge was someone tore off his manhood. Judging by the smell, he should've died. 

Well thank God for Green Matter.

Chuckling a bit to himself, Brent grabbed onto the dying man's hair, pulling him down the hallway. At the end was an empty room. Plastic coating the walls and ceiling... Perfect for little things like this. 

On any WiFi connections, a static started to form in Plifterson. The TVs, the computers, even some robots were gaining a new signal. 

Video wise, all that was seen was a pale hand. Bright green veins were popping out, but otherwise there was nothing out of the ordinary. But then, there was a voice. Brent's, if anyone recognized it.

"Hello Plifterson. Normally I wouldn't make a fuss on things like this, but I do have an announcement.

There is a man named Rowan running these streets. He is a Phoenix Shifter. In him, he carries about 50 grams of pure, enchanted Green Matter beneath his rib cage. I can't image the side effects... No wait. I can. It hurts like fire trying to eat you from the inside out, taking what little soul you have left. 

Anyone who finds him? You can do what you want to him. But he cannot be killed until the Green Matter is removed. If you want it? Deliver him to me. If you want to kill him yourself? Still bring him so I can take it out.

Brent had learned too late what Rowan had done. He'd found out through panicked calls from Abby on what had happened to his little girl.

His sweet....Precious little one.

His anger was so tangible he was afraid to go to the hospital. Not yet. 

First.... There were things to do. Tightening his fist, the Hunter went straight to work. He had things to buy, things to do... A prince to kill.

-------

Hours past before he found the bound Rowan in the alleyway. Though, the blue blood was what brought his attention here in the first place. And the skid marks that were forming from the bastard trying to sneak away.

"Don't think you can escape." Brent delivered a swift kick to the back of his head, making him knock forward. He was unconscious in minutes. Though... despite having the Phoenix Prince right here... Brent didn't kill him. No.. It was far too early for that. 

Slipping a glove on, he reached for an enchanted bag in his pocket and a knife with the other.

"Lets see how well you can handle fire of a different sort then...."

A confused Doctor tore on the last of his coat, contrary to the careful peel up his arm he'd been giving it at first, and slung himself towards the ship entrance, mouth minorly opened and brow heavily crinkled. His fastest hand clapped down upon the left door of the TARDIS, an inch or two above Donna Noble's head, who was scanning the scenery before her under the sound of a heavy sigh and an expression of grieved exhasperation.  " There is nothing here, " She punctuated on the wasteland before them, excluding debris, general scenic chaos, and the looming military base from her description. Behind her, the Timelord raised the hand near her temple and brought it up to sheepishly scratch the back of his head. " -- Must've - ..gone for the Second Calender reset. Not the First. Accidentally. " He inhaled deeply, and then canted his head down, trying to catch her eye while the nearest was the back of her head. " Sorry. "

Again, Donna Noble sighed, but, this time, she reached for the buttons upon the belly of her blazer in the slump. " You better be payin' my shoes when we get there, Spaceman. " That made aforementioned Martian no less puzzled than he'd been before. " What? " He repeated his former exclamation, and then, again, even higher, as she tossed her jacket into his arms, " -- What?! " Donna only rolled up her hand - length sleeves and nodded out, to scattered wreckage and scavenging victims of a war recently passed alike. " Here now anyway. Might's well do some good, don't we? " " Oh, " said the Doctor, smally, her clothes still matriarchally cradled into his arms as they had been once before when packed up into cases. Then he broke out into a grin most infectuous and brilliant, and saw the same expression appear onto her face. " Allons - y! "

{ No need to be sorry! I just, I hate to think people are sending you hate all because of a choice you made for a character? It’s just rude, and disrespectful and disgusting. I hate hate. I hope it dies down. I would just stay true to your character as you’ve created them. There’s nothing you have to change for people who are assholes. If they can’t say that shit to you, face to face, then they are never worth your time. Don’t ever be sorry for what you believe in.

Characters who play in the gray area (whether she is one or not) of any sexual difference tend to be targeted in my opinion. LGBTQAP are very sensitive topics and if people think you’re misusing it then they might be jumping on the hate bandwagon when its really unfuckingnecessary. Ignore them. Whoever she is, she’s yours. Don’t let them get to you.