New Waters
Stream of star fires breaking out in the Exdio quadrant…few unexpected battles in the Nordic eras…sonic screwdriver low on battery…Womble’s put-out…
Whoa, hold up. I’ve just been sitting here, feet on console, reading a book; all the while letting universal residue do its thing. So local news is: Womble, somewhere on board, isn’t happy. That’s about it, I’ve got nothing on his location or reasoning. For all I know he’s found the mess in the rec rooms, or stumbled into a TARDIS graveyard (I don’t even know if there is one). The general mood would suggest it’s raining inside, and I’ve just checked the gravity levels in the pool room to find it normal. We need a trip. Something distracting, something…
I’ve just found this picture lying around…
It would appear Womble too has a connection to the city of bunny masks. I’m not usually one for coincidences, but this universal co-inky-dink is too delectable to ignore. Better start the usual ‘Box in Flight’ routine. Should lure Womble back up here too.
Sure enough, he appears just as my converse heel-kicks a lever home, bringing with it the usual, resounding thump of a landing. 1959, deep under the Atlantic. Easier than I might have expected.
Womble looks patched up and, though not exactly exuding excitement, ready for an adventure all the same. My mouth wants to form the words “Want to talk about it?”, but then something stops me. Perhaps my gender, or the fact that I don’t have a tub of ice cream nearby. Better stick with what I’m good at:
“Well, Womble, we’re here. Outside those doors is the next chapter. A locked world of art, industry and science. Of bonds, struggles and choices. Of the madness that it all ensued.” Doors opening now, slowly of course. “After you. Welcome, to Rapture.”
The Keeper & The Chicken 