[the camera turns on to the Doctor sitting on his desk in the lecture hall, one leg tucked under the other, reading a book. On the whiteboard is written "Astrophysics" in neat handwriting.

The class, unseen behind the camera is rustling and yawning, murmuring quietly. After a moment, the Doctor clears his throat and the class quiets.]

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
And yet methinks I have Astronomy.

[he wiggles his hand back and forth]

But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, of season's quality;
Not can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind.

[gestures around the room.]

Or say with princes if it shall go well
By oft predict that I in heaven find:

[he looks straight into the camera, as if staring at someone beyond it who is watching. Intense. Direct]

But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive
And, constant stars, in them I read such an art [he places a hand over his heart]

As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself, to store thou wouldst convert;

Or else of thee this I prognosticate:

[he lowers his eyes]

Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.

[he lets silence fall as if waiting for something. Finally a reedy male voice asks if this is literature class and the Doctor looks up]

No. But I'm so very glad you asked. Good question, Johnny. [the student starts to speak as if correcting the name but the Doctor goes on without him] This is, as is so helpfully written on the board, Astrophysics.

So why, dear Professor, you ask, are you reading us such a lovely and well constructed sonnet in your melodic tones which would make bards bite their lutes in half from envy?

( Allow me to tell you )

This... was not where he was supposed to be. Story of his life, really, just usually it was intentional. Being here without Miranda was a little disconcerting, but Donovan was used to rolling with the punches. That's just how he rolls. When he isn't too busy rocking. Thankfully his axe came with him. After reading the pamphlet and looking everything over, he took stock. His Axe was still strapped to him and ready to rock, acoustic or electric should the Maestro appear. Shirt. Pants. Hot pink jacket, check check and check. He lifted his shirt and looked at his chest. Well... he'd miss his Kelsheen mark, being somewhere new. But that was fine, if there were any Orcs, he could fall back on his mastery of the Orcish tongue.

Alright then!

Putting on the necklace, tucking it under his shirt, and putting everything else he woke with in pockets, he set out and started exploring. The pink jacket was certainly eye catching and hard to ignore, and the black shirt under it only seemed to make it pop all the more. Thankfully for people's eyes, the guitar on his back covered a chunk of it. He checked out the university, and wandered around, mostly in that area. And rather than follow the guide to starter housing, when it started getting later he found a busy enough area in a park, and wrote up a sign with whatever he could find around that was clean.

"Uncle Pinky - Donovan Deegan - Professional Bard - will trade one performance for one night of comfortable shelter and good food."

Setting up the sign, he sat on a bench behind it, and started to play a slow low ballad, axe settled carefully in his lap. He might not have his wife or kids here, but he had his guitar, so he wasn't alone. The warm strings against his fingers was like the firm handshake of an old friend.


(Yes, his icons are from early series, Donovan is from after retirement, however.)

Video

[Those turning on their communicators are greeted by the sight of a red eye before the screen pulls back and reveals the face of a pretty but angry redheaded woman who has no chill walking briskly down a street.]

I had hoped that the last time was nothing but a dream, but it seems as though there's some sort of cosmic joke at play. Finding myself here once again certainly feels like it. But I suppose I should introduce myself once more. I am Mitsuru Kirijo.

Is Akihiko Sanada here again?

[Part of her hopes he's not. Despite knowing that the others won't notice her gone, it doesn't help that she wishes that Akihiko is back there to take care of their comrades in her stead. But, a familiar and trusted face at her side is something she also wants, selfish though that thought is.]

If he is, can you tell me where he is?

Action

[Anyone in Genessia will find Mitsuru walking down the street. She's trying to look cool as she takes in the sights, sunglasses covering her red eyes as she notes where things are in this first of four cities, but she has the habit of stopping when she sees something of particular interest. And she's pretty distinctive in that coat.]

[When River flicks on the camera, she's sitting in her office at her desk, and she's got an antique Earth map on the wall behind her. She's holding a cup of tea, and she's smiling.]

Hello. For those of you who don't know me, I'm River Song and I'm a professor of archeology at Attleton University. Normally, I specialize in Earth and Earthen settlement archeology from a multitude of time periods. However, given that I'm going to be here for the foreseeable future, I decided I'd try my hand at some more local ruins, if there's someone who'd be willing to be a guide. If nothing else, I do so miss having my hands in some dirt.

Uh...so, I got a question for unicorn experts.
Can unicorns and regular horses create offspring?

Uh...I think the unicorn unlocked the stables to get in.

WHO: Colette Brunel and Dray Lyell
WHERE: Fayren forest, Dray's home
WHEN: After MewTwo's destroys part of the forest and Ace let's out all the dogs from the shelters.
WARNINGS: Nah

( Our house, in the middle of our street... )