00:01.

[nothatsrecent.livejournal.com]

[ Oh, the Doctor didn't waste any time once he was settled in.He'd have to explore every inch of this place, and if he didn't achieve all of that today, well, he'd skip some classes. (Except not.) He still couldn't believe that he had to take some classes--did they still lecture? It'd been ages since he'd been in a classroom. In a real, proper classroom, as a student. What was it, ohh... 800 years? About. Yes, about. The last time he had been in a classroom as a teacher, that'd been... with Rose, as his tenth incarnation. Amazing, that was, how time flies. The Doctor walked around the Garden, looking at the faces of students as they passed by.

Yes, yes, he already looked like a professor. He was well aware.

Oh--and he'd have to resort to calling himself John Smith again. Oh, that was annoying. John Smith, John Smith, John Smith--sometimes, he wondered, if he should pick another ambiguous name. Dr. John Smith, maybe he could trade it in. ]

Nooo, what if I forget? That wouldn't do.

[ he muttered to himself, before quickening his steps, hands shoved into his tweed jacket. ]

Well, best to learn the territory before I make any rash decisions--wait. [ was choosing to be a teacher a rash decision? ... probably. ] Probably... too late. Maybe.

(no subject)

[spiralclasm.livejournal.com]

[After having seen what he thought might be an airship from the Balamb Garden view looking down on Balamb Town, Vaan enters town, intent on finding the airship and examining it.]

[Unfortunately, Vaan only finds himself in front of the train station, with a man selling stupid trinkets to tourists, trying to make him buy fertility beads or a big turquoise fish head hat. A real best-seller.]

Nghh… this is going all wrong…

[Vaan sounds pitiful, his voice tinged with obvious disappointment. Sprawled out on the steps, he watches the daily happenings in front of him. He has maybe a hour or so before he needs to get back to the Garden.]

[corridors]

[vocaloidiot]

[You're late, running between classes, or it's after everything's shut down for the day and you're just chilling around Garden. Whatever. Regardless, a series of surprisingly heavy footfalls indicate the arrival of someone from around that corner: from whence comes a man muttering to himself, and with only one arm.

It's cool, he's got his other one sticking out of a bag. It and his shoulder are sparking occasionally, a series of small metal pylons and wiring sticking out.]

... so I'm pretty sure swords aren't really my weapon.