OOC “The TARDIS is a weapon… and it must be destroyyeeeed…!!” “Huh? Wha?!” Doctor Who jolted awake on his couch at the sound of the familiar, robotic-voiced aliens, fez falling off his head as he sat up straight and drew his sonic screwdriver, holding it up defensively as his eyes frantically darted around the dark room in search of the alien invaders. …Until he started to come to his senses and his gaze landed on the looping DVD menu on the TV screen in front of him. “Ohhhh…” he mused, scratching his head with the screwdriver tip. “Handles, did I fall asleep while marathoning again?” “Correct.” came the reply from the disembodied Cyberman head sitting on the ground beneath the Doctor. “I see…” Doctor Who sighed in relief, clutching his chest as his hearts started to slow down a bit. He’d really scared himself for a moment there! Wouldn’t be the first time that some dangerous form of alien just showed up out of nowhere in or around the TARDIS. It was a strange little thing that set his TARDIS apart from the one on the show — as he could count on one hand the number of times that an uninvited alien was seen wandering the good Doctor’s home. Must’ve been the spacey-wacey mechanics of that funny Fandomverse causing that to happen, he figured. Either way, it’s hard not to be a bit jumpy when one might have a good reason to literally be afraid of their own shadow. “I really should stop doing that.” he said to himself, putting his fez back on. “Correct.” “Oh hush, you.” Doctor Who replied as he stepped down from the couch, he pointed his sonic upward and buzzed it to turn the overhead light on, then pointed it at the TV set to turn it off. For the purpose of watching his show, Doctor Who had a small entertainment room with a TV and TV essentials, plus a small bookshelf completely filled with Doctor Who media (though it was only a small sampling of everything he owned; there was more in the vaults). As a result, it looked less like the other rooms in the TARDIS and a bit more like something you would find in a (*gasp!*) normal person’s home. Of course, that normalcy was somewhat reduced by the presence of all the bizarre junk littering the floor — from the cricket bat to the recorder and various fob watches — and the walls, which had been decorated with 3D paintings, a WWII propoganda poster with a Dalek on it, the words “Bad Wolf” scribbled in marker or something, and a post-it note that read “Note to self: add some round things”. “Anywho, I wonder what the other Fandoms are up to this time of…” he trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence. Day? Night? Oh, what does it matter. Time is relative, anyway. Leaving that room, he expertly made his way through the TARDIS corridors to the console room. (He took great pride in knowing that he hadn’t once gotten lost in there in the past year and a half — a new record!) Once inside, he nodded at the choice of decor. “Russel T. Davies’ era? Fantastic!” he chirped. There were, after all, many versions of the TARDIS console room throughout the show’s history — and whichever one waited for him each day seemed to depend entirely on whatever his space-time machine was in the mood for. As he approached the console, though, a somewhat unexpected sight stepped out from behind the center column. “May I be of any assistance?” Doctor Who nearly jumped, before remembering his encounter with the creature the other day. “Oh, right… you’re still here.” he mused. Speaking of random aliens in my TARDIS… He’d found the Ood just sort of wandering about only a day or two ago, and of course the conditioned slave immediately gravitated toward Doctor Who and interpreted him as his new master. The Doctor… felt sort of bad about having him around, but didn’t know what to do with him. The Ood tilted its head, still awaiting instructions. “…You know what? Just wait right there; I have an idea.” He told the creature before approaching the console, flicking all sorts of switches as the central column began to bob up and down and the space-time machine’s engines made that signature sound that he’d grown so fond of hearing. That same sound then echoed through the home of one of Doctor Who’s close friends, with the TARDIS kicking up a light wind as the blue box began to materialize in Sherlock’s apartment.