Prose sample

[notbychoice]

Of all the things the Doctor wanted to walk into immediately upon his arrival, it was safe to say that earthquakes were definitely, definitely not one of those things. But it was exactly what he got: he listened to the explanation from the faceless maid, and then he attempted to ask her more questions, and when that didn't work, he went out on his own to see what there was to see.

There really wasn't much, either; just a city that wasn't remotely familiar that kept getting tossed around by intermittent quakes. And unless this city was built on a rather large fault line, which was possible, he wondered if something a little less ordinary was causing all this.

And there was the tiny little fact that, as far as he knew, he was supposed to be dead. Well, he'd regenerated in order to prevent his death, he knew that much. It really wasn't well known, what happened to a Time Lord after they regenerated. Maybe this was really it, this city with its shaking and faceless maids.

"Strange sort of afterlife, not that I ever believed in an afterlife." Honestly, though, he's not sure what he really believed. It wasn't something he'd put a lot of thought into, so he had no expectations about what it might be like for him after regenerating.

That was probably a good thing, however, because it left him free to form his own opinions and experience things on his own terms, quite like he'd done throughout his entire life until this very moment.

"Right, well, first order of business: getting off these streets and finding somewhere to wait out this shaking." Because it didn't take a genius to tell that the quakes were getting stronger, and the last thing the Doctor wanted to do was to become the first Time Lord ever who managed to die after regenerating. Something told him there wouldn't be any safeguard against death if that were to actually happen.

And with that in mind, the Doctor shoved his hands into his pockets and strode off purposefully for the nearest and hopefully uninhabited building.