a very quick starter,  set sometime in season 2, probably? 

“ @orlothegreat​​ -- i very much do not recall inviting you to join me on my morning walk. ” 

“ at least give me some good news.  have you come to tell me that peter is dead? ”

“Alexei.” A nod accompanies an amused expression as the shorter count continues.

     “In that case, it would be not just my honor, but my pleasure indeed to invite you in.”

Ivanov enters his apartments without further preamble, and gestures for Orlo to follow him. The rooms are quite fine, trimmed in rich golds and deep jewel toned wallpaper, like many of the rooms in the palace are. And yet the silver-haired gentleman looks displeased. 

     “So much frill and fluff,” he bemoans, tossing three decorative pillows off a seat and gesturing towards the chair for his companion to join him.

     “I must admit, I am not used to it, and I do not care for it. It is a waste, I think, to paint the walls gold when the streets of one’s country are paved with shit.”

Such treacherous words are uttered without care or second thought; he does not seem to doubt Orlo’s loyalties even in the slightest.

     “Please, sit, and make yourself comfortable,” he muses, calling a servant up for hot water, but no tea. A few minutes later, a tea service of only piping hot water rests on the table between them, and the new arrival digs in his luggage for a small tin. “Tea from my home. It is certainly better than the swill I was offered back at the court table. I’m sure you will agree.”

Ivanov prepares their drinks and then takes a seat opposite Count Orlo, where he scoops a hefty serving of sugar into his cup, and levels the other with a grin.

closed starter with @orlothegreat

Ugh. Court.

It wasn’t like Nikita actively avoided court, it was just that he was rarely summoned to such a place; and he had complained about it fairly bitterly that morning while getting himself dressed. Attempting to fend off his sisters attempts to make him look as though he’d ‘fit in’ more.

“You should wear a wig, you know.” Holding the powdered abomination above his head, making Nikita feel as if he’s being cornered from above. “Come on, it’s suitable, it’s what they all wear up there.”

“Because they have no choice, I am a man of the people” Dodging her again, “I’ll not suffer for such nonsense.”

“Oh, do not be so stubborn this morning.” Her tongue clicking, “You can make a perfectly adequate impression when you wish it.”

He batted the wig away, ‘My braid is more than fine, Avelina, they’re not going to keep me around long enough for it to be of any concern.”

She frowned, the wig tucking under her arm, “That’s hardly optimistic.”

“I never am with the Court, Avelina.”

So he had no wig, his hair was just fine, neat and coiled. He had his best waistcoat and trousers. Pressed and shiny and a lovely pale blue and silver. Nothing to make him seem as if he had any reason not to be here, besides the fact that maybe he doesn’t seem scandalized enough or look as if he’s suspiciously up to something.

He’s waiting now, in some grand reception hall he’s been told to wait in, as if he’s a pet waiting for it’s master to feed them. It makes him bitter, such aggressive splendor. 

Nobody else seems to be around, making the halls seem empty and echoing. It is tempting to explore, look as if he could be any less put out. He isn’t scowling-that’d not be polite, but surely he doesn’t look thrilled.

He could sit-nobody said he could not, but there’s something so uninviting about the overstuffed furnishings that standing, pretending he’s not glowering at overly generous portraits and waiting with dread.

“You’re so sour about it,” Avelina told him. “We hardly came from the stones, after all.”

Sure, they had money. Himself and his sister-but this?

Excessive!

Someone save him, entertain him, something.

Maybe there was a library he could explore, if there was nothing else, royals had books.

It's a bit of a wrong turn that lands the Doctor in the palace of the Russian Emperor Peter III. While she is here, though, she might as well nose around, given the very interesting six months that took place in early 1762. 

The court seems mysteriously absent as the Doctor wanders through the grand halls, which suits her fine for now. No awkward questions. She opens a few doors, unimpressed by the empty apartments, but then finds a LIBRARY. 

Oh, brilliant, she loves a library. 

But this one is dingy and dirty and looks like it belongs in an abandoned building, not a luxurious palace like this one. The Doctor steps over a broken chair and peruses the books collecting dust on a shelf, oblivious to anything or anyone else in the room.

Most people who have written with me know that one of the Doctor's favorite places in the TARDIS is always (no matter the regeneration) the library.

So I thought I'd share a couple of pictures and thoughts I've had about their favorite of rooms.

The Library is the largest room in the TARDIS, and for good reason. The Doctor has collected books from all over the universe, all throughout Time. This is like the Library of Alexandria on steroids, okay? Any scholar would give their left arm for ten minutes in this room.

The shelves are largely made of what seems to be dark hardwood, and the stacks are close together, with narrow aisles and the occasional archway. There are two levels, and an ornate railing around the top decorated in circular Gallifreyan.

There is definitely an organizational system, but you'll never figure it out. The Doctor can always find what they're looking for, though. (But that might just be the TARDIS helping out)

But. Here's my favorite part of the library:

The Reading Nook

There are a number of these throughout the Library, and if you can't find the Doctor, this is the #1 most likely place to find them other than the console room.

The nooks are equipped with plush chairs and sofas, and usually a roaring fireplace at all times. The Doctor rarely sleeps in their bedroom, but occasionally might be caught dozing here. It's cramped and cozy and smells like old books and fresh ink and pine and it's just the best thing.