(no subject)

[took_a_year_out]

A young woman in a labcoat walks in, her nose buried in a medical textbook as she bites her thumb thoughtfully.

When the change in noise from where she's come from registers, however, she looks up. Eyes go wide.

"...Oh my God. Who the hell put a bar in the students' lounge?"

Welcome to Milliways, Miss Martha Jones.


[OOC: Martha is currently just pre-canon! She's completely free to tag by everyone and anyone, but all I ask is that nobody mention the Doctor to her, please.]

Comments

[took_a_year_out]

"...She?"

[isaysimplewords]

"Yep. She acts like it, too."

He gives Bar an affectionate pat.

"You'll see what I mean once you've been here a few times. Anyway, she can give you whatever you need, long as it's legal and you're not gonna kill anyone with it, and you'll have a tab you can pay whenever."

Cal keeps forgetting to pay his.

[took_a_year_out]

"...Bit like my student loans, then."

She considers for a moment, then shrugs. She's either dreaming or in space: it's bound to count as five o'clock somewhere...

"I'll have half a pint of lager, then."

Her stomach rumbles slightly, a reminder that she wound up skipping lunch. "And, um, a plate of chips? Please."

[isaysimplewords]

The items appear immediately in front of Martha, fresh and appealing; the fries chips are accompanied by the necessary condiments.

"It's not exactly watching them getting made," Cal says, "but close enough, I hope."