every life is a pile of good things & bad things

[thedreamer]

WHO: The Doctor & Ghostbusters Friends!
WHEN: December
WHERE: The Inn & surrounding areas
WHAT: Shenanigans, trouble, bringing joy & confusion, more trouble, culinary delights!
WARNINGS: Will edit as needed.


[ A series of open & closed starters in the comments below. I am super happy to plot something and set up a custom starter if you prefer so please feel free to PM me or ping me on discord @ bluebox#8972 or plurk @ geekorthodox ]

Comments

[thedreamer]

[ Sparing a genuine moment of consideration for the abominable dough in all its horror, the Doctor glances down at it briefly before looking back at Five. The Doctor isn't usually one to refrain from bragging about what he's made—even if it is truly awful—but here is a rare moment he finds himself willing to admit this thing isn't exactly fit for consumption. ]

I was going to toss it in the bin, in fact. And no, I'm not delivering these to everyone. You look an absolute mess lately, thought you could do with a bit of...well, care, I suppose. Food, at the very least. You seem to be quite terrible at looking after yourself recently, thought we ought to remedy it! By we I mean me, of course.

[somebadnews]

[ That was a surprising amount of honesty. Five suspected it, but it's brazen to go out and admit what his intentions are. He doesn't know that anything he's done warrants special treatment, and he's certainly looked worse in the apocalypse. Which only leads him to believe it has something to do with his physical age and misplaced pity.

The words are on the tip of his tongue. He isn't a child who needs someone to look after him. He survived alone for decades with less.

Except he can't abide by perfectly salvageable food getting tossed. Someday it's going to get the better of him when someone slips poison into his food, but for whatever reason, he believes the Doctor is genuinely attempting to help. However misguided and unnecessary.

There's a long stretch of silence before he finally replies. ]

Leave it. [ He's no less confused, but he's firm in that request. ] We don't have enough food to let it go to waste.

[thedreamer]

[ The degree to which the Doctor is at all capable of taking care of his own self should rightfully call into question his ability to take care of anyone else or presume to know what's best for someone, but it also never stops him from putting forth his—at times—blunt opinions.

Case in point. ]

If you insist.

[ And leave it, he will, even if by his fairly low standards, the food seems a bit questionable; who is he to judge? ]

Won't argue. There's more where that came from. Well, a bit later. Tomorrow. I'm properly on kitchen duty—bit busy—but you're in need, let's be honest.

[ He should probably explain, but he doesn't (as often happens with the Doctor), that he generally takes it upon himself to look after everyone, whether they've asked for it or even need it, or not. ]

[somebadnews]

[ Five would pick it up, but he twitches when the Doctor insists that he needs meals brought to him. Just because he ate what he left before doesn't mean he would have starved without it. ]

I'm not a child. [ He decides it's worth the reminder before he decides to start a charity for him. Which is a far cry from the accusations he normally gets and a lot less comfortable. ] We shouldn't waste what we have, but I've survived on a lot less. You don't need to turn me into your special project.

[thedreamer]

Far from it, but you're not well. I notice things, you know, many things. Laser-focused, that's me.

[ Laughable and questionable at times, from the man who once took a good thirty seconds to notice Rory had miraculously returned from the dead. In a manner of speaking. ]

I don't consider helping someone a special project. I make it my business all the time.

[somebadnews]

[ He firms his jaw and tries to keep hold of his temper at being called not well. He's been cursed, had parts of his memory erased, lost his family again and again, and has another apocalypse waiting on him even if he survives this zombie nightmare. And so what? Everyone has problems. ]

It isn't. [ His business. Despite how easily he swallowed down his other deliveries. He just needs to work on drinking in his room and not stumbling around the hallways, giving people the wrong impression. Which he wants to clear up right now. ]

...I'm fine. Practically on vacation. [ He would stop there, but there's something else bothering him. ] Whatever it is you think you owe me, I don't care. You've got nothing to make up for.