Time Gone Wonky (Open)

T-Rex attacks citizens in New York city!

Nazi's reported in Belgium!

Is the End Near? Space Ships in London!

Man Reports Another Dimensional Self: Speaks of Fortune Changes

An elderly man on the bus, rather irked by the furrowing of brows and grumbling hmphs! seemed rather displeased by the news. Folding the small electronic newspaper, he turned toward the passenger sitting in front of him. "Strange times, child! The year is 2014, and we are having reports of T-Rex attacks? This has to be a joke. World gets stranger everyday," he huffed.

"Aye," Penelope told him. "May I question as to why there might be a T-Rex in New York? I thought they were extinct?" Let's not even get into Nazi's in Belgium

"Scientist were able to re-animate the flesh. Where you not there when Johnathen Brown discovered a way to bring back the dead? Extraordinary man! If he hadn't left his house but seconds earlier, he would never have missed that car! Says it's a mirical that he is alive." The older gentleman pulled out an old wood pipe. Inside he placed some sort of tabacco in it. Penelope wrinkled her nose, grimacing at the strong stench.


"Indians made this," he told her. "Smells awful to you, but tastes like heaven on the tongue. The white settlers were able to help expand the industry. The indians are proudly one of the great founders of this country. Without the peace between them, well I dare say that might not be as powerful as they are now. Cheif Potanic! And us white folk wanted to call them presidents." He chuckled to himself. Gnarled fingers snapped together creating a flame.

Magic?! Complete disbelief marked those withered features. "Are you from a tribe? A heathen?" Absolute disgust caused the face to mesh together. He looked like wrinkled laundry draped over a basket, only the eyes and nose retaining their features. Suppressing a rather embarrassed smile, she instead smiled politely, finger tapping on thigh. What does he mean by heathen? I was in London only hours ago...

"Let me guess...A colonist from the Queen herself. The Romans should have squashed her when they had a chance. Now they want to claim all of London as theirs! Then the Germans. Don't get me started on Germans!"

"Please don't," Penelope told him rather hurriedly. "I'm sort of behind on these things." Everything... The old man took a long drag from his pipe, brown eyes assessing her. A plume of white smoke breached the thin lines of the lips, and curled up the nose. Gent needed to trim his hedges.

"Whoever you are, you'll want to get changed. That heathen garb will get you in a lot of trouble." Another deep huff, the pipe lighting red as it ignited the plant, followed by a plume of smoke directed in her face. Penelope politely swatted at it, stifling a chocking cough from the pure stench of it.

"This is modern day attire," she snapped. The confusion allowed her a bit of boldness. Normally she would have slunk into a corner preying that no one else noticed, so she could fume in the embarrassment of self-horror, but today had a sort of difference in it; the sort of difference that made her think she was mad. One moment the old man had been reading a paper, legs crossed, wearing tweed shirt and corduroy pants. Now he was dressed in what appeared to be a futuristic toga, feet garbed in curled shoes. No T-Rex attacks; none of this hooblah about Nazis. It was as if everything that had previously been was...erased. Here she was, a relic of a past the didn't happen, with no knowledge of the now. The train stopped to a screeching holt, nearly throwing her from her seat. The old man didn't rock a bit. Only time he moved was to stamp those ridiculous Aladdin feet at her.

"Anti-gravity shoes," he told her. "Or something along that line. Makes it so we can't be thrown about like this. You'll want to get a pair, the city is a bit treacherous for anyone not sure footed." On that note he stood, tucked the folded electronic newspaper under his arms, and departed from the compartment. Other people, having heard their conversation, gave her weary looks. Unsure of what else to do Penelope followed after them, into a city that should not have existed.

"I think I've gone mad," she whispered under her breath.

Deep inside of the vortex, rocking and twirling with great zeal, flew a police box that really wasn't a police box. Inside the police box was a man who really wasn't a normal man, but in this day and age, what's normal?

To the untrained eye, he could be a man in his mid-twenties with golden hair and fair skin, accented by two sparkling gems of eyes and a smile that could melt a Dalek's eyestalk.This was highly irrelevant at the moment as the man was quickly running around the central console of the craft furiously smashing buttons, twisting knobs, and flipping switches. The console room was echoing with a deep, sonorous gong. And if we know a thing or two about deep, sonorous gongs, they mean trouble.

The man was hanging on for dear life and the craft was spinning and twisting out of control, spaghettifying and knotting up in the massive amounts of wormholes and blackholes that had coincided with the time vortex. Within moments, the craft could have been ripped apart by the sheer force of time gravity and anti-time that was pummeling the outer shell, but she stayed true and held her position.

In an instance, the TARDIS stopped moving. The cloister bell had stopped it's sonorous gong, and a mystifying silence ran through the craft. The Doctor, who was laying on the floor at the moment, laid still, waiting.

Moments passed, and nothing happened. The Doctor peeked open an eye, and then another. Realizing he was stable and (hopefully) on somewhat solid ground, he arose and took helm at the console. The vector screen was fizzing and sparking, but somewhat functional. The other panels of the console seemed to be functioning to a normal extent, but he knew this wasn't an hour long repair job. It needed possibly an overnight stay. And the Doctor needed some air.

He flipped the emergency switch on the console to open the storm doors. He strolled outside and observed his surroundings. It was London, perhaps. The normal hustling and bustling of the city made it easy to distinguish that it was modern. Or post-modern. Art deco? There didn't seem to be a consistency in the styles of the city. But that was London for you.

The Doctor strolled away from the TARDIS and onto a bustling sidewalk. He looked back at the craft. She had landed in a park that was fresh and purple. Or...well, grass can be purple can't it? He turned around, seeing a bus come his way and nearing the curb to pick him up.

The bus halted right in front of him. The doors opened. The Doctor hopped up into the cabin. "Yes I would like to get to Spo--" The driver didn't look over. He just closed the doors and moved on. "Right. Well then."

He looked around at the various people who occupied the space. Empty seats here and there, scattered throughout the bus. He found an empty seat next to a rather irate looking woman and sat next to her.

Last minute Penelope had hurried back onto the bus and re-seated herself. One of the electronic newspapers laid on an unoccupied seat. Whoever had owned it didn't appear to be coming back any time. Taking advantage of human forgetfulness, she snagged it. As soon as her fingers touched it, the words started to appear on the screen. Current events cataloged themselves. The head liner changed to the most current story. Intrigued she tried to open it, only to find that it wanted to remain int he same square shape. How had that man done it? The bus jerked to a stop, the doors opening with a light hiss. People boarded, their slippered feet almost gliding right by her to occupy the further seats. Almost all of them were taken at this point, but the ones around her. Judging eyes bore into her flesh, leaving an uncomfortable feeling of being picked apart to the bone. Something just isn't right...Now how do I open this darn thing?! Looking rather irate, a gentleman decided to seat himself beside her. An aggravated puff of air escaped her lips, She turned toward he stranger holding aloft the "newspaper".

"I'm no heathen," she told him, sounding cryptic. "Do you know how these things work? Time has appeared to have gone crazy, and I'd like to find out more of what's going on. I'm supposed to be in 2014 in New York. This...this isn't right," she told him. Realizing she was brandishing the electronic square like a sword, she put it back in her lap, a bright blush creeping across naturally pale cheeks. She was speaking gibberish at this point. Hopefully, if her eyes were not deceiving her, the strange attire he wore (which looked rather out of date) meant that he was just as confused and lost as she. In fact more so, according to the attire. Unless that was acceptable in some part of this New York time transfer world...

The Doctor, confronted with a tablet-wielding woman, sat staring agape at her attempt to either steal his money, bash him along side the head, or ask for assistance. Either way, he wasn't prepared for any sort of battle as it was. The TARDIS wore him out enough that he felt hopelessly vulnerable.

"Of course I know how to work that, madame. It looks like a mark XVI bio-read. It bases it's stories and headlines off of what you're interested in. Which is fascinating beca--wait a moment. What do you mean nothing here is right?"

The Doctor, perplexed, took a look out of the window. Gentlemen and ladies were walking the sidewalk normally, walking pets and children. The youngsters had hoverboards and hoverbikes. There was a gentle mix of species integration as casually as birds to trees. Nothing stuck out.

"Wait a moment! You said you were looking for the year 2014? Hoverboards weren't released until 2015. Hoverbikes took another 5 years. The Interspecies Integration Act wasn't put into place until 2147, which was conveniently 200 years after the incident in Roswell. May I see that tablet?"

He took the tablet from the woman. The tablet immediately buzzed open, taking an unusually long amount of time to search for articles of interest. After a few moments, the results flashed across the screen as "404: Pages not found." The Doctor, giving it a small smirk, took up to the search bar. He found that the date only displayed the current day and month, yet no year. "How convenient for a machine to not display information. Sometimes computers can be such a nuisance."

"You're mad," she told him after listening to the ramblings. "I can see hover boards and such, but...Did I step into some sort of time bubble? I'm so confused..." Penelope hung her head, hands clasped over her face as she groaned into it. She'd only been on one space adventure, and that involved a blue time machine. If she hadn't been mistaken, all she did was step onto the bus to get to her next plane home. There was no Doctor, no weird occurrences with aliens. Just her clumsy feet stepping onto the bus...

"How do you know all of this anyways? You haven't called me mad yet...Are you, by chance, a time travlor? Naturally I wouldn't just assume, but you are assessing the situation. With all that information stored, you know a sequence of events..Something someone who travels through time would need to know" Oh no, she was starting to sound like a nut. There was going to be years of therapy after this. Maybe she'd start posting YouTube videos on conspiracies and such. Yeah, write books and make a living off of being co-co for cocoa puffs! Sounds good...

Releasing her hands from her face she took a small stare out the window before turning to the man beside her. "Penelope," she told him. "Yours?"

Sitting in the back of the bus reading an electronic newspaper, Alexa Layaph sighed. Here she was, trying to read a bloody newspaper, and these two people were the only ones making a racket. The whole bus was quiet, save for two people messing with one of the tablets. All she wanted was quiet today; she needed a break from noise.

"Oi!" she yelled, "Keep it down up there!" she gave a death glare to all other passengers who decided to stare at her. One feisty one decided to tell her off for yelling. "You keep it down," he said.
Alexa glared at him and decided to get back to her tablet. She was heading off for a biology class today. She was trying to read and study up on new events- wait, T-Rex attacks? What? Shaking her head and raising her eyebrows, Alexa skipped past that report. Leaning back in her seat, she anxiously awaited her stop.

The Doctor paused for a moment. "Time bubble is a very loose term to call it, I suppose. It's almost as if...well, it's not entirely possible. Imagine a vinyl record, if you can remember. It's set up in rings, distinguishing each song, but as a whole is a single entity. Now imagine if that record didn't have any distinguishable features to it, songs out of order, blending into each other, creating a massive mess of music and sound. That's something similar to what could be happening!"

The Doctor sat back in the absurdity of his comparison, but he seemed satisfied in how he explained it. He heard someone from the back yell up to them to be quiet. He turned around to glance at the woman, but couldn't pinpoint who said it. With a dissatisfied scowl, he turned back to face the woman sitting next to him. "Madness is what distinguishes the man from the slug. Look at me, I believe in the impossible because I've seen it happen. I believe in six impossible things before breakfast, and that's what keeps me sane. For the most part."

He took out his sonic screwdriver and began to buzz around the small tablet reader. "Time traveler? Well, I wouldn't quite use THAT phrasing. More of a time lord really. Much more cleaner. Less butterflies to worry about stepping on, if you know what I mean. But this....this is an interesting piece of machinery, don't you agree?" He split open the tablet to reveal it was very nearly empty. An incredibly small micro-chip sat in the middle of the back of the machinery, the rest being empty space. He looked up at the woman, who had her face buried in her hands.

As soon as he turned his attention back to the machine, she introduced herself. "Pleasure to meet you, Penelope. I'm the Doctor!"

The way he explained it made a rough sort of sense. "Be glad I'm a 90's child," she told him. "If I wasn't the whole 'record' bit would have made absolutely not sense. For future reference you might want to use a CD instead, else you'll just confuse them further. Bit out of your time stream, eh?" At this point it came out all muffled, her hands still covering her face. Hiding behind those warm, fleshy parts helped keep what was outside of that window a non-existent reality.

At that point a woman had told them to pipe down. Penelope looked up from her hands toward the noise. Only one girl stood out in the crowd. She wore the same "heathen" fashion as she. A confused eyebrow popped up.

"How about you keep your trap shut," she hollered back. "This is an emergency, and I shouldn't have to whisper under my breath to appease you." Normally she would have shied away from such confrontation, but the whole situation was sort of turning her into a rabid animal. Fear did funny things to people. Thankfully her attention went from the rude heathen in the back seat back to this "Time Lord" fellow. He was, well what appeared to be, dissecting the tablet. Suprisingly hallow, she noted, with a sort of wonder.

"How?" She questioned over-looking the insides. "Do we really ever advance this far, or is this part of the music track that shouldn't be playing on the record?" Maybe her intelligence wasn't sub-par, but she was sincerely trying.

Oh, butter cookies! The Doctor! "No," she told him pointing. "I just got rid of the other Doctor..He flew a blue police box. You," she said a little surprised, "look a bit younger and more... blond. He spoke of regenerations somewhat loosely, but never in any great detail. You must be one of the past-that's silly though. I mean, all of the different versions of the Doctor floating through time and space. My brain hurts again," she told him, her hands folding themselves back over her face.

"This specificialy," he took the tablet in his hands, "Is a part of time that shouldn't exist yet. This is technology that wasn't even invented on this planet, let alone this time stream. Something is vastly wrong."

The Doctor looked out the window into the streets, observing the passerby's, wishing something would give it a clue. "This is part of the record that shouldn't be on the record, Penelope. This is a bonus track from a completely different record, I'm afraid. Look!" He pointed out the window at a pair of people pennyfarthing.

"How odd---wait, you've met me before? My goodness, this is severe. It was probably a regeneration of mine that you saw. One of the older ones. Luckily i've kept my youth and my stamina. But what you've just described is my craft! The TARDIS."

"So you're telling me, right now, that nothing is in the right place. We are playing Mozart, and One Direction butted in with their new hit single. So if things are not right in time, that means something or someonehas changed it? Maybe something small, like a man not dieng when he was supposed to, or stopping the huns from invading Rome? If that's what the problem is, then would we have to fix it?" Slender fingers started their four beat pattern on her left thigh, eyes looking up toward the ceiling in thought. "I'm sure time isn't a line of unbending events. If everything was firmly structured, then we wouldn't be able to make yes or no decisions. Still there has to be fixed points, right? Things that will always happen because they must. Like the Titanic sinking, or all the World Wars...But if someone were to go into time and change those events, make them not so, then wouldn't everything change? For just a moment she looked over at this younger version of the Doctor, her blue orbs piercing into his. A small smile crossed her lips as she gazed upon him.

"I quite like the eye color...Something you'd see when peering into the ocean, or perhaps even in a nebula." A slow blush crept across pale cheeks, causing them to become a shocking pink. She hmm'd in embarrassment realizing just how silly it had come out. She kept her gaze on the floor of the bus peering at the bits of debris left over. At least there was some normality in this strange world. No one knew how to use a trash can here either. "So we can take the data from the newspaper to sort of Google up events to see where it has gone out, right? Find the weak link in the chain of events, or maybe even muster up a conclusion or name on someone that could cause all this chaos?"

"I suppose if there's no one else here who can fix it, we'll have to do. You know, i've seen this type of thing only once before, and that was when I was on Tigella, but that was a different time, and much more severe than this." He turned his attention from the tablet to the woman, and then to the front of the bus. He stood up and yanked on the stop cord.

"Something hasn't changed, necessarily. It feels as if....well, almost as if someone has forcibly hit rewind or fast forward several times, while in the middle of a repeat. It doesn't feel as if anything HAS changed, but if things don't get fixed soon, things WILL change. Time is certainly not a progression of this happens, then this happens. If someone happened to go back to the Titanic and steered 20 degrees left of the iceberg, narrowly avoiding catastrophe, could you imagine what the consequences would be?" The bus came to a grinding halt, gently lunging forward the passengers and the Doctor. He headed into the aisle, turned to Penelope.

"I have an idea of how to stop this, but I need to get back to my TARDIS. I think that it would be the most safe option in our case. But I can't do it alone. Come along?"

He extended his hand and waited for her.

The sound of a TARDIS materializing could be heard as Candalynne had landed her TARDIS down in a time she hadn't visited before - that she knew of - and she strolled down the lit up pathway of the TARDIS, waving good-bye to her cousin's conscience in the TARDIS' console. She grabbed her denim jacket and put it on before opening the doors of her TARDIS and she stepped out and took in a breath of fresh air. "Hmm, now, where and when am I?" She asked herself as she closed her TARDIS' doors behind her.

Candalynne looked across in the alleyway to see a second TARDIS, one she knew of an old friend, an old friend she had known since she was 8 years old. Now she is 1,000+ years old! She slowly smiled happily before looking out the alleyway to see a bus halt to a stop close by and she smirked a little before standing beside The Doctor's TARDIS and she lent against it, hearing a small chime from her old friend's TARDIS and she giggled: "Nice to see you too, you pretty thing."

Zane Marx glanced around the hospital lobby uneasily as he waited for a nurse to finish up with one of the patients. He had heard about the T-Rex attacks and wanted to know more about them. At first he hadn't believed the news but once he had seen the actual wounds of the victims there was no doubting it. This particular event made his hopes of finding someone that could help with his own problems raise exponentially. Doing a little bit of detective work would be fun too, though.

The nurse finally got the victim subdued which seemed impossible because his whole leg was covered in scratches. Zane had an overwhelming feeling of regret for not being able to help any of the victims. "So I was told that you wanted to talk to me. How can I help you?" Zane didn't like how cheery the nurse sounded but he guessed that's just part of her job. "I wanted to know what attacked these people. For my uh, cousin, over there." He gestured to the college student laying in another bed. "I see. The victims claim that they were dinosaurs but seeing how it's 2014 that's pretty hard to believe. It was probably a rabid animal, maybe a dog or cat." Zane couldn't imagine an modern city animal that could leave marks like that. He didn't question her about it though because she was already busy and he didn't want to get in the way. "Yes yes cats great. One last thing: have you seen any people that you would say are uh out of the ordinary?" The nurse glared at Zane with obvious disgust. "Excuse me sir, I have people to tend to."

As Zane left the hospital he noticed that not only the past was intruding the present. The future was here and no it's not just a bad advertisement for some stupid product. When Zane was growing up with his fellow abandoned friends they had always spoke in fantasy about having a hoverboard. He saw people of all ages riding on floating boards throughout the city and no one seemed to question them at all. It was quite peculiar. He stopped at a nice pizza place near a bus stop and walked in to grab a slice. He glanced back and saw an old man chasing what appeared to be his grandchildren around on hoverboards. For a second he had started to think that maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all. But that was only for a second.

Decisions, decisions...

Penelope looked at his outstretched hand for a moment, those blue eyes inconclusive. For just a moment she started to reach out before retracting. It wasn't that running on on a mad dash to fix things worried her, it was the consequences brought on by traveling with the Doctor. Danger almost always lurked, and she was mostly useless during those times. The bus came a sudden stop, her body thrown forward a bit. She almost fell into him, instinctively reaching out and grabbing his wrist to steady herself. Ah, well, she didn't much want to live in this time stream if there were giant T-Rex's anyways.

"I should warn you that I'm useless in battle. I sort of just flail my limbs and hope I make contact. If we come across any dinosaurs I'm lunch." A smart shake of her head ended that statement, a bit of frizzy ginger curls falling into her eyes doing so. Irritably she blew it from her eyes, his lithe body carrying them toward the door that opened with a hiss. As they exited the bus, her feet landed on solid steel. It appeared the bus was floating as well.

"Amazing what you can do with high end magnets, huh girl?" The suited man, complete with a fro, swaggered on past with a small wink. Penelope kept her trap shut, instead following close behind the Doctor.

"Take me to your space ship," she joked with a little snort at her ill attempt at humor. As they walked a small though popped in her head. It wasn't the ridiculousness of the clown on stilts walking past them, or how a robot was doing the robot for motor oil donations. Heck, she wasn't even phased by the giant gorillas wearing crude outfits holding brief cases. "Doctor...Why do I remember time being different?"

The Doctor felt the warm grasp of her hand around his wrist, and lead her out of the bus. The pavement glimmered in the sunlight, stationary in parts, moving in others. The spectacle of what surrounded them was enough stimulation to put an average person in the fun-house, but the abnormal is what the Doctor lived for. He sought for the unusual and macabre. He gave a small smirk in her direction after her comment about flailing her arms in the instance of battle. "Trust me, if we experience a Tyrannosaurus, there's no doubt we wont stay long enough to flail about. You can trust me on that."

He placed his panama hat upon his head, and started off into the (hopeful) direction of the TARDIS. He passed by several shops with glistening and gleaming brassy bits and cogs, super-sonic hearing devices, and literal eye-pads, which were installed directly into the retina by a very experienced barber surgeon.

Doctor, why do I remember time being so different?
....time being so different.....
so different....
different.......

Her voice echoed in his ears. He turned to her. "You remember something different? YOU?" He adjusted himself, realizing that last statement came off as a bit harsh.

"I always did get a bit jealous at those who were time sensitive like I. Still, fair is fair. What is it you remember? And don't forget a single detail!" The Doctor listen intensely. After a while, he began to walk again, this time in a different direction, but still maintaining his casual listening. They passed by the same store fronts, but something was different this time around.

The storefronts were shifting and changing to what would be modern 20th century equipment!

Candalynne stepped away from The Doctor's TARDIS, her Time Lord senses kicking in and she looked around before walking out of the alleyway. She looked left to right before seeing a man and a woman. The man had a weird sense to him and Candalynne smirked. "Doctor." She said under her breath as she slowly walked behind The Doctor, watching him as he passed some store fronts but she also noticed the weird things going on.

"Whoa!" Candalynne said in surprise as the stores seemed to change to a 20th century look and she blinked in confusion. "What the heck is going on?" She asked - mostly herself - before she realized she had kept walking and she accidentally bumped into The Doctor. "Oh Rassilon! I am so sorry! I didn't been to hit into you... sir." She was unsure if this incarnation of The Doctor had met her or her past incarnations so she was trying to be careful.

The heavy disbelief of that word you caused her to pause mid-step to fix two very agitated blue eyes upon his china blue ones. Two arms crossed themselves across an ample chest, body stance now taking an almost defensive stance.

"Excuse me," she declared a little vehemently. "No need to be jealous. I was asking out of legitimate concern. You could show a little less disbelief and proper concern. If I remember something different then perhaps this solidifies the wrongness of the situation. Didn't mean to cause you a little bit of greeness," she scoffed. Rolling her eyes she walked beside him, her eyes roaming the different shops. A tattoo parlor applied a pad to a man's arm. It appeared needles weren't needed anymore. Just as she was about to open her mouth to explain what she remembred, the shops started to change to more familiar buildings. There was the Verizon store sitting by Starbucks. Different fast food joints and big screen TV's showing news updates provided a more solid, real world.

"This," she told him. She waved her hands at the shops popping into place properly. "It's not perfect...but it's close. The phone they are premiering that is handless, doesn't exist in my time yet...but, it's close.." Just as she was about to explain further another woman bumped into the blond haired Doctor. She apologized for it. Penelope stiffened, the feeling coming off the woman just wasn't...right.

"Any you are?" She planet her feet firmly on the ground, hands balled into fists swinging loosely at her side. Should the woman attack, Penelope knew how to flail her fists rather well.