#bartyrp5

(Using italics for some things that apply to my muse to some degree, but not quite!)

absent-minded / abusive / addict / adrenaline junkie / aggressive / aimless / alcoholic / anxious / arrogant / audacious / bad liar / bigmouth / bigot / blindly loyal / blunt / callous / childish / chronic heroism / cheater / clingy / clumsy / cocky / codependent / competitive / corrupt / cowardly / cruel / cynical / delinquent / delusional / dependent / depressed / deranged / disloyal / ditzy / egotistical / envious / erratic / fickle / finicky / fixated / flaky / frail  / fraudulent / foul mouthed / guilt complex / gloomy / gluttonous / gossiper / gruff / grudge holding / gullible / hedonistic / humourless / hypochondriac / hypocritical / idealist / idiotic / ignorant / immature / impatient / incompetent / indecisive / insecure / insensitive / lazy / lewd / liar / lustful / manipulative / masochistic / meddlesome / melodramatic / money-loving / moody / naive / nervous / nosy / ornery / overprotective / overly sensitive / paranoid / passive-aggressive / perfectionist / pessimist / petty / power-hungry / proud / possessive / pushover / reckless / reclusive / remorseless / rigorous / sadistic / sarcastic / senile / selfish / self destructive / shallow / sociopathic / sore loser / spineless / spiteful / spoiled / stubborn / suspicious / tactless / temperamental / timid / thief / tone-deaf / traitorous / unathletic / ungracious / unlucky / unsophisticated / untrustworthy / vain / withdrawn / workaholic

Barty let out a sigh as he looked from his kitchen window to the rain steadily pouring outside. He couldn't leave the house until it passed (otherwise the cold would overtake him and make him faint), so it was a comfort to know that he wasn't home alone. Gamma was there too, and Barty saw this as the perfect opportunity to spend some time with his dear friend. They hadn't seen much of each other lately and Barty felt it should be remedied. Plus he still needed to thank him for helping him through his recovery.

Would bringing him some decadent homemade treats be a good start? Barty hoped so. He'd already made up his mind and was halfway to Gamma's door with a tray of assorted pastries, cookies, and cake-bites in hand and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate obediently floating behind him. When he reached his destination, Barty  stopped and very carefully leaned far over to one side so that he was balanced solely on one foot. (The mugs hilariously tried to mimic him too, but quickly gave up when they realised what would happen if they tipped over). From his new position Barty brought his other leg up and knocked on the door with his foot. Somehow he managed not to drop or spill anything.

Barty stood outside Gilderoy's study with his forehead pressed against the door. Breathe, he reminded himself. You can do this. There would be no running away this time, not for him and certainly not for his husband. They were finally alone together in the house and Barty was tired - beyond it, actually - of Gilderoy avoiding him like the damned plague. They needed to talk about what happened, although with the amount of anger boiling inside the Time Lord it was more likely they were going to yell about it. Or rather, Barty was going to yell and Gilderoy was going to sit there and take it. Things needed to be said and Gilderoy needed to hear it, whether he liked it or not. He was not going to be denied any longer.

With one last, deep breath, Barty squared his shoulders and headed into the room. "I can't take it anymore," he blurted, getting right into it and cutting Gilderoy off before he could even think to speak. "I can't! I have held my tongue this long so as not to upset the others living under our roof, but we are alone now. We are alone and you are going to stop this nonsense and listen to me, do you understand? And don't you dare get out of that chair!" Barty had barely begun and already his face had turned scarlet with anger, his hands coming down upon Gilderoy’s desk with such force that even the floor underneath it shook from the vibrations. He regretted it instantly, what with the one hand so badly injured, but he didn’t let it show on his face.

@glockhart

At this time of morning Barty was usually up and bustling about the kitchen, cooking at one end and setting the dining table at the other, but today he didn’t have to do any of that. The younger of his children had already surprised him very early on with breakfast in bed (he still didn’t know how they managed to burn cereal), so he was free to spend his morning how he liked. For Barty that meant curling up with a good book and a hot cup of tea down in the living room.

He’d only just settled and was about to start the next chapter in the story when he heard the familiar vworp of the TARDIS materialising outside. He wasn’t all that surprised to hear it - it was Father’s Day after all and he expected more of his children might arrive throughout - but what did give him a bit of a shock was his daughter Marie charging through the back door, excitedly shouting about his birthday and looking remarkably older than he remembered. At once he left his comfy little corner of the living room and went to greet her in the kitchen. He spotted his other self, John, on the way in and much to his amusement the man was already helping himself to the kettle still warm on the stove. He looked rather embarrassed, Barty noted, but he instantly knew why. It was because John had just realised what Barty already knew: they’d gotten their dates wrong.

@glockhart

Barty would have protested that he was not in the middle of one of his big sulks, but they both knew that he was so what was the point in arguing? Besides, he didn’t want to squander the opportunity presented to him and have Gilderoy change his mind about going Out. Barty was terribly restless and had been for some time; he needed to stretch his legs again, as far away from Earth as he could go. “Right! You said we could go Out, so no taking it back now!” With that said, Barty flashed his husband a brilliant smile and eagerly tugged him outside where the TARDIS awaited them.

“So, where to then?” he asked as he threw the doors open. “We could see the famed crystalline jungles of Kaethi, or steal a look into the hidden treasure vaults of King Tanith of Aurelia, or even visit the Clockwork City of Hanor!” On his way up the small ramp that lead to the center of the TARDIS’ darkened control room, Barty plucked his old coat from off one of the railings and slipped it on before hopping around to the far side of the console. The room hummed into life the moment his fingers brushed over the familiar buttons and levers of the controls, and both TARDIS and Time Lord sighed happily in unison at their being together again. The lights overhead flared, sparked, and then dimmed several times over before finally settling comfortably, but once they did Barty stepped away and moved back to join his husband again.

“Are you certain it’s okay we go Out? I mean, you do realise there’s a very high chance that my name or this face is going to get us into trouble, right?”

Barty was stretched out comfortably on a lawn chair in the back gardens of the Estate, bundled up in several layers of blankets that didn't quite cover his long legs. His shoes had gone missing again, evident by the appearance of his bare feet, and he had a very large, half-empty bottle of firewhiskey in his possession. At Scott's words the elder Time Lord groaned and slowly tipped his head back to reveal that his eyes were half closed and glazed over and his cheeks were brightly flushed from drinking. "Good moon-ing," he yawned in reply and gave Scott a sleepy, dopey smile. "I mean.. Happy.. Happy News Ear, sweetheart."

Barty had just finished cleaning up the main room after the usual morning breakfast rush when Mrs. Odd walked through the door. He bowed to the enchanted broom that had been his dancing partner during the floor sweep, then kindly sent it off to oversee the rest of the cleanup in the kitchen while he attended to his friend. He took a moment to think over the question he had been asked (and wipe away a bit of flour smeared over one stubbled cheek) and after mentally flipping through the list of faces he’d seen that morning he replied, “No, I’m sorry. She hasn’t been in today. Is everything alright?”