Forums » General Roleplay » The Pub In The Middle of Space and Time (Open RP)

"the TARDIS is ready." I say smirking. "Let's go"

Tardis smiles and gets up with a slight grunt.

I wait and kiss her head.

Tardis takes his hand with a smile and puts one hand on part of her lower back.

I decide to activate the TARDIS myself.

(you never said so)

(it's ok)

(yes)

(( Thanks.... ))
Tardis smiles and watches him.

(would you make a separate thread??

"Thanks for saving me I guess,now please let me out,I have a pub to run."

(he was already let out before they left)

Tommy would sprint back into the pub getting back to business and such serving drinks to his customers.

Isaiah sprinted into the pub and slammed his hands on the bar. He looked terribly disheveled and his eyes were bloodshot.

"I need to find Tardis. Now!"

"She has gone god knows where with a friend of hers,wonder if their carnal knowledge will be hardcore."
Tommy would shrug and go back to cleaning some dirty dishes and cups.

(i think this is still open, forgive me if i’m wrong)

Sat at the far end of the bar’s counter was a younger (human) man, adorned in a beige military uniform, his body slumped over onto the counter, as if asleep.

“Ngh...”

The man slowly pushed his face off of the counter, and pushed back the brim of his Adrian helmet, his eyes squinted in confusion, and he speaks in a light Belgian accent

“God... What was that?...”

"Greatness my friend. You want anything man?"

Tommy finished cleaning and awaited for a reply from the man at the counter arter twirling his revolver.

The man, a bit dazed, ran his gaze slowly over the interior of the Pub, and he groaned, reaching a hand over to touch the French WW1 Lebel rifle that is propped up against a nearby wall, a long, pointy bayonet fixed onto it’s muzzle.

“Where is this?..”

"Jesus it is in the middle of bloody and time space,cyoar you look like a mess. Where in the timeline did you come from?"

He caresses his eyes tenderly, seeming to only have half-heard what the barkeep said.

“Verrek.. My head...”

The man releases the chinstrap of his helmet and lets it fall onto the counter with a thud, and he grumbles,

“I enlisted with the Belgian Army just last year, when the Germans began their offensive..”

The man frowns, as if deep in thought, and asks,

“Perhaps it was all a dream.. Maybe Belgium is still free.”

He blinks, and glances up at the man through unkempt brown hair, inquiring,

“It is still 1916, right?”