singillatim | open to all~

option one;

[ It's not as though he's just arrived, so reason, logic, and rationality would dictate this strange man who's seen a few things in his long years should perhaps have far more fear of the pervasive and foreboding fog than he actually has. As usual with the Doctor, it's generally not any fear for his own survival that guides him, but rather that of others. He's been exploring the newer areas around Lakeside, having found a humble place to shelter when he's forced to. (Spoilers — he still loathes being forced to. He should be able to wander about with ease in the coldest of temperatures, but he still can't.)

As he just barely catches a glimpse of another bipedal creature beside him, he offers (between breaths that come with a bit of work to produce) — ]

Not to alarm you but you're going to die out here rather imminently and painfully.

[ It's a fair bet, probably, that any sentence starting with not to alarm you will land in the opposite way. He hasn't managed to learn better, and tends to be at his most blunt in dire situations when he's worried about people. Still, though, he offers his hand out if you need it to steady yourself. Never mind the bit of blood there on his own skin, he's ignored it himself, along with attempting to stubbornly assert that he barely feels the pain. ]

Hold on to me if you need, and run. Ten paces ahead, you can manage it.

option two;

[ The Doctor alternates between being reluctantly compliant about sequestering himself away from the fog that he's well aware is a threat to one's life, and insatiably curious about its component properties. This world and all its terrors — familiar and not, to him. It's like any place he's traversed across the universe, in that it's a new adventure and he loves those.

But then it's unlike any place he's ever been because he's trapped, because it's meddled about with everyone brought here, and because the only home to which he's ever really belonged is wayward and all too distant from him. Few would understand, he thinks, the ache of being parted from his sentient ship, from the bond they share, their silent connection, the way she's always cared for him.

He busies himself with studying, observing, inching towards the edge of every danger and darkness here to better understand it, even though he risks it all consuming him, pulling him closer to the madness quite often only a breath away from his sanity.

In between the fog dissipating, he'll explore, check the surroundings, study, learn, take notes in a worn and tattered journal he's managed to find. Because he's him, alongside the serious notes are drawings and doodles in the margins, observations both insightful and ridiculous, and all manner in between.

As the fog comes on again and he's just inching towards the door to dutifully plug it up, it's thrown open by someone who's clearly been caught out in it. He ushers them inside and quickly shuts everything up before starting to have a look over — ]

Were you hurt? Let me have a look. You can trust me, I'm the Doctor.

[The problem with always being vigilant and on patrolling the area for signs of harm is that the chances of running into harm itself are increased. Ruby had struck out a little further from Lakeside than she had expected by the time she realized the fog was rolling in.

She was quick, but that wasn't always enough and she could feel her skin burning from the fog as she slams the door closed. What she wasn't expecting was for someone else to be in the building as she slumped down on the floor panting.]

A doctor...? Phew- I-

[She pulls off one of her gloves and raises up her sleeve to show the inklings of an burn from exposure there. And it's a little obvious there's a bit more running up her neck toward her cheek as well.]

Not too badly, I think. But I wasn't as covered up as I should have been apparently.

[ Matter-of-factly to start, he's quick to say: ] No, clearly not.

[ But just as quickly as his words are uttered, the Doctor moves towards the young girl, kneeling to examine her, rolling up his sleeves a bit. As evidenced by bits of gauze wrapped around his own skin, the Doctor didn't escape the fog entirely unscathed himself. But it's hardly a thought as he examines the extent of her injuries.

Despite his name, he's actually not terribly polished with first aid, but he knows enough to offer basic care. ]

Not a doctor, by the way. The Doctor. Important distinction, though you're in the best of hands, promise.

[ His eyes narrow, studying the extent of her burn, and then he straightens up and moves to grab a few items tucked away in the corner. ]

Lucky us for the moment, we have enough basic supplies to sort us for now. First things first! Warm compress — draw out any lingering toxins.

...The Doctor?

I mean- I didn't think it was a competition or anything. But sure. Maybe don't go saying that to the other doctors?

[She wouldn't want them to get jealous or defensive about it.

She watches for the moment as he gathers up what he needs and she takes a moment to note his the gauze on his hands.]

I guess we're both pretty bad for over doing it, huh?

Oh, no, no it's my name. Doctor. The one I chose, or the one they call me. I don't remember some days.

[ Yes, he does, he knows perfectly well. ]

Not quite that sort of doctor, but I could be in a pinch. Like now.

[ He's quick to get a few warm compresses, with the help of the kettle going, and he moves to her side again. ]

How are you feeling? This shouldn't hurt too much, I hope. Let me know if it's too warm to the touch.

[ He's got two large pads of gauze and he leans in to press them against her skin where she's hurt, if she's willing. ]

[He blinks in the doctor's direction. Now that's... a great inntroduction, isn't it? He was minding his own businesses by the lakeside and taking notes about the surroundings when he heard the other man's voice- who? That was a new face and the redhead turned his attention on him before hearing the full sentence. Was that a threat? No, it didn't seeem so. Did the other spot something Erichtonios couldn't see yet? Probably. So... since dying a painful death wasn't exactly in his plans ~~not again~~, he merely turned in the stranger's direction, starting to move.]

I will pretend to be surprised.

[He fortunately enough was good at running, he had plenty of time to practice, so the researcher dropped his basket -something filled with papers, wood and some bark- and sprinted toward the other. He did catch sight of the blood on the other man's hand, wondering for a second if he was stepping in an assassin's trap, but... well, he was already so close there wasn't much he could do. At least he could choose not to hold the man's hand, using both of his own to hold his long black robe up -indecently showing the long blue trousers and the warm deer boots he wore under it- so he wouldn't trip while running.]

Got it. Lead the way.

[He was going to ask for explanations later, hopefully he wasn't going to get killed for trusting the other.]

[ Admittedly, he's not always the most reassuring when he's worried. It's more of an urgent things are about to be very bad very quickly response that he doesn't always censor well in the moment. And while he can't actually be entirely sure of imminent death, any fog that burns like this can't be good to linger in, and a dire warning usually has the intended effect.

As the air around them thickens and clouds his vision alarmingly fast, the Doctor doesn't entirely make out the look of his new companion until they're only a few paces apart.

Running though, yes, good, this one listens! ]

If you lose sight of me, just keep running straight until you hit a solid door, that'll do it. Well, open it and get inside of course. Keep yourself safe.

[ Jokes, this one. Even now. Of course, he's also implying that should they manage to get separated in all of this, if the younger one at least just runs straight on towards the cabin, he should be okay if nothing else. The Doctor is obviously not intending for anything to happen to his own self in what should be less than a few minutes' to reach the cabin, but one never knows. ]

Just a lovely, mildly unsettling jaunt, won't be long!

I'd rather bot splat myself against a door.

[This one runs, yes. He looks quite goofy between the jacket, the long robe and the clothes he wears under them, but there is no time to worry about how he looks, not when he's able to finally see the fog trying to engulf them. Well, crap? He knows how to stop animals, he's not as familiar with air. Wind elementals had special enclosures but he never really worked with that kind of stuff.

As for the other man's words and behaviour- Erichthonios can't care less. He used to live between even weirder and more direct people, plus this is an emergency situation and he merely runs as he tries to reach the cabin.]

What- a lovely- day.

[He's not an athletic guy, so he's panting by the time he reaches the cabin and closes the door behind them. At least they have some shelter for now? He's quickk to take off his scarv and push it at the base of the door, looking around for more fabric to seal every small opening as much as possible.]

Any idea of what that is?

Not a bad one at all, as days ending in 'y' go.

[ He actually means that seriously. Despite their current circumstances, this day could have ended up far worse. They've made it inside safely, the fog will dissipate eventually, and he'll go have a scout around later to see what he can learn from it all. He can only hope anyone else out there is safe, though, and he'll be too restless to stay here for long while he worries about any other sentient creatures caught up in this.

He helps get the windows shored up, though, and glances over his new companion. ]

Quite a few layers there, lucky you made it in one piece.

[ Though, one does have to keep warm however they can, he supposes. While they speak, the Doctor begins to poke around looking for supplies, just to see what they have. And he supposes he should clean up his hand a bit, though that's less of a concern. He talks to him over his shoulder. ]

As for what that is out there — just the not-so-simple result of a horizontal movement of warm moist air over a cold surface. Mix in something toxic in the atmosphere and you get a very unfriendly bit of fog. It could be biological in nature, something naturally occurring in the environment here that's reacted with the atmosphere to produce this. Perhaps a type of living organism or environmental imabalance. I was examining it earlier before it decided to get hostile — rude, honestly! You weren't hurt by it, were you? Breathe much of it in?

[ Traveling from Milton to Lakeside in the midst of a fog that likes to suffocate and occasionally burn anyone caught in it probably wasn't the smartest idea, but Daisy's a hero and they aren't always known for making the smart decisions. When so many had made the first journey to the resort, she'd stayed behind out of concern for those left behind, but also fear that her powers might suddenly return and put others in danger. An earthquake in a mining tunnel would be a recipe for nothing short of disaster, after all. But now that she knows how unlikely that is to happen...

Well, she's never been able to stay in one place for long, and she could really use the distraction from how much she really misses computers that work. And the internet — fuck, she misses the internet. The only work she can throw herself into without it is trying to gather as much information as she can about this place, so that might as well include Lakeside.

As she nears what feels like the thirtieth hour of traveling and finally makes it to her destination, the fog begins to swoop in again, the previously clear day quickly becoming a distant memory. ]

Oh, hell no. [ Pinpointing a building in the distance, she makes a run for it, though the fog moves faster and she's gasping for air by the time she flings herself through the front door. There's a man inside, an arrival from last month she'd never properly met, and as she leans against the nearest wall, she shakes her head. ]

I'm okay. [ Just a little winded. Shrugging off the stuffed-full purple backpack she carries everywhere, she pulls down the grey scarf from over her mouth, tucking it back into her ugly plaid coat before giving him a slightly skeptical look. ] The Doctor? That's a title, not a qualification.

A name, actually! One could be Doctor so-and-so, let's go with Doctor Shaw — good friend of mine, actually, dear Liz — where was I? Yes, Doctor — they can be anywhere on the spectrum from medical to academic. One could doctor someone up, or more odiously, doctor up information. Broad applications in those two syllables, but in my case, it really is just a name, the one I chose, or what they call me, rather.

[ Yes, hello, new person who's just come in from what was undoubtedly not the most pleasant of experiences. Meet this absolute weirdo (who really means well).

As he winds down from his hurried chatter, collects his breath, and remembers he actually has company who might prefer a moment to collect herself, he quickly pivots and queries her gently. ]

And who do I have the pleasure of meeting and keeping away from the fog with?

[ The Doctor, at least, prefers to think of it as keeping away rather than hiding, mostly because he doesn't fear it so much as he's forced to accept his physiological limitations in this world; limitations he's never had to contend with before. He's the stubborn sort and it will be a battle against his instincts to stay in here, even knowing the threat out there; people could be in trouble, for one. That's always his first concern. Alongside that is his desire to study it if he can, however he can. He also, quite simply, just gets restless when trapped in a small space for very long. But lucky (or not?) for them both now, he has company to occupy his mind! ]

[ He's not the only one with a mind that's always active and in need of something to do. Back home there's always something: a mission to go on, code to rewrite, research to be done... And in the rare moments when she ran out of all of those, there were internet rabbit holes to fall down, videogames to beat, and teammates to bond with. She misses all of those things desperately in this place where her research is stored in a battered notebook instead of a tablet and her only teammate is the housemate she trusts to have her back.

The one I chose is the part of his ramble that sticks with her, and as frustrating or even annoying as some might find his manner, she finds it endearing. He reminds her a bit of FitzSimmons in those early months when they'd been young, slightly socially awkward scientists eager to see the world and make great discoveries. So when he asks her for her name, she smiles at the way he phrases the question, appreciating it more than he could know. ]

Daisy. Daisy Johnson. [ She tugs her gloves off and stuffs them into the front pocket of the backpack, using that brief moment to decide to share a piece of herself, as well. ] I chose my name too. Sort of.

Daisy Johnson.

[ He repeats her name with a slightly melodic lilt to his voice, a hint of delight at knowing. Everyone is important to him, so he finds the occasion of meeting someone new to be significant. Perhaps just an ordinary blip in the span of most people's lives before they carry on meeting other people and having other adventures, but not so for him. At least, not now, not these days. People known to him — whether for one day or years upon years — are held with reverence inside of him.

Just as important as a person is their name, of course, and he's particularly interested in the fact that she chose hers. That's a shared detail he's rarely come across, finding that most people had a name given to them by someone else. ]

You're the first Daisy Johnson I've known in the whole of the universe, and that alone is interesting enough, but you chose it, now you've got my extra attention. We're here for a bit, so — do tell! Wait — actually, you had the scarf over your mouth so you should be fine, but if you saw any of that green fog out there and breathed it in, do tell me if you start to feel a sharp pain in your lungs.

[ And then he quickly goes from ominous back to curious. ]

Now! Please, carry on. [ He gives her a little wave of his hand and playful bow, slightly fidgety even as he stands mostly still. ]

[ There's something in the way he says her name that first time that makes her of the first time she said it. Testing the name, trying it on, deciding it isn't so bad... And trying not to show just how delighted she was to finally know it at all after a lifetime of wondering.

She makes a bit of a face at the mention of the green fog, indicating her distaste and overall doneness with all of this bullshit. As if the Darkwalker isn't bad enough, they also have to worry about the air outside trying to kill them? What a load of bullshit. But his quick shift back to wanting to know about her leaves her smiling in almost affectionate amusement. ]

Why don't we sit down or something first? [ She's managing to catch her breath again, but it's still been a long trip to get here. Which— ] Where are we, anyway? The fog came in too first for me to tell.

the fog (lakeside) —

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lakeside resort and surroundings —

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