don't worry, I got a screw loose too @computerqueen
There had never been to a place he could truly call “home”. Besides, “home” was such a subjective definition that it couldn’t be applied unanimously across the board, it shifted from individual to individual. Sometimes home was a place, sometimes home was a person, sometimes home was a combination of the two, sometimes home was simply wherever one had settled. Out of all these definitions, the latter was more to the Doctor’s design, even if that definition was also stretched if anything.
He did not choose to come here, the machinations of this world simply forced him to be “home” here. Alas, living in a provided house was still better than not living with a roof over your head at all, so he would accept the cards dealt to him and just continue his work from here.
Entering the house was not at all what he had expected, for it seemed so…ordinary. Perhaps a little unusual to what he was used to - even though that didn’t mean much to a man who had spent most of his life in laboratories and research facilities - but nonetheless, unusual.
Slow, careful, and most of all curious he entered inside, taking in his surroundings cautiously. Ordinary.
A recreational room, a kitchen, private rooms.
Ordinary.
Even if this was supposed to be his designated home, the Doctor felt a stranger.
Ordinary.
Until he heard movement from a room close by. Ah, it appeared he was not alone in his abode.
“Hello, am I interrupting something?”
