Application: Fifth Doctor, "Doctor Who"

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

"Come on," came an almost-but-not-quite irritated voice from some unknown point in the sorting room, followed by the beginning of a long-suffering sigh. This was truncated, however, by a thump: and this thump, strangely enough, originated from a mass of beige appearing quite against his will in the room and promptly stumbling over a chair with a startled grunt. "Hello!" he sputtered, scrambling for the hat that rolled away, and then... he noticed his surroundings.

He scrambled up and spun around. This wasn't Androzani Minor, and the TARDIS wasn't where he'd just walked out of. If that had been walking at all, of course.

"Hello, there!" he called again, more confidently. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I assure you that I mean no harm, and neither does the young friend of mine you've just..." He trailed off as a piece of parchment shimmered into existence on a nearby table, along with a quill. That wasn't right at all. Usually someone would appear and begin making demands or boasting about their perfect evil plan right about now. Or at least point a weapon at him; he was rather more accustomed to that, really.

He snatched up the parchment and pulled a pair of half-moon spectacles from a coat pocket, donning them to inspect the document. This was followed by a rather anticlimactic "...oh."



State your full name.
This was met with a huff. "I suppose if I've been spirited here in such a manner, you really ought to know that already, oughtn't you? But if you must hear it again, I'm the Doctor."

1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
"Oh, I don't know. The cream brie from the northern regions of Teritanze is rather delightful with tea and toast. The court of Teldevar's Iron Castle produces quite a respectable gouda, but..." And then he grinned to himself, a vague smirk. "Australian cheddar, actually, happens to be my favourite. Brazen, terribly obnoxious, a little bitter, and altogether endearing in the long run. Acquired taste."

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
He looked up from the parchment, frowning. "What a horrid question. Must killing be the answer at all? I'm sure there's another way."

3. What time is it where you are?
"That would be much easier to answer if I were to know where I am, exactly. As it stands, perhaps you, whoever you are, might tell me that instead."

4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
"I don't believe in harassment, to be honest. I prefer the ideal of mutual consent, particularly when it comes to the more tawdry activities. That said, what about that Remus fellow, if he's game? I've always had a weakness for lyc... err... intellectuals." Cue baffled look. "Now, how did I know who that was?"

5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
"No, thank you. I'm not much for alcohol, nor for questionable environments that don't pose an immediate danger on at least a planetary scale."

B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
Long, drawn-out sigh. "I must be on Earth. It seems only Earth is still preoccupied with monogamy. Honestly, what's the harm in letting the lot of them have at, altogether?" Muttering under his breath, "I wouldn't blame him, you know. Two gingers..." Cough.

C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
"Ah, that could be due to the fact that you might not have harnessed the full benefits of pocket dimensions. You see," he explained, perking up into that terribly cheery tone that could only mean Excessive Science™, "the four major dimensions surrounding our perceptions--those involving Time and Space, really--are simply the foundations of an infinite number of other dimensions. Think of them as something like genetic code. With these at the base, you can really bend space to your will in all manner of interesting ways, including folding bits of it into other bits in sort of a..." He would never shut up now. Interestingly enough, however, during his lecture, he'd begun to empty his coat pockets. By the time he was finished talking (not that anyone was listening), he'd amassed an unreasonably large pile of oddments on the table before him.

"And that," he concluded happily, shovelling it all back into his pockets, "is how pocket dimensions work, and honestly, any idiot with a quantum physics certification could tell you that."

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
That earned an insulted look. "Of course I'm not useless. I'm the Doctor, or weren't you listening before?"

6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
"Bribery," he sniffed with disdain. "Sorry, not really my forté. Too political, and nothing I've got would be useful anyway. But..." Pause. Grin. "I could probably build a pocket dimension field generator, given enough spare parts and a suitably sized Tesla coil, and you wouldn't even have to pay me. I rather enjoy engineering."




_{~*OOC*~
I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. -Doc
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. -Doc
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. -Doc
One day, marmalade will rule the world. My vote is for clotted cream, actually. -Doc}

Comments

[vislor-turlough.livejournal.com]

Turlough had spent most of his 'incarceration' in Hat Shore (as he put it) holed up in his room, emerging only to make himself some food.

It was during one of those food runs that he caught a glimpse of the monitor that listed who was currently in the Sorting Room.

Couldn't be.

Turlough bullied one of the limo house elves to take him to the Sorting Room.

It was, suffice to say.

"Doctor!"

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

Having taken to inspecting his surroundings once the strange parchment had gone on its merry way, the Doctor was suitably surprised to be addressed by such a familiar voice. He spun on his heels from his stance of attempting to listen through a wall, startled... blinked... and was across the room in a flash.

"Turlough! What are you doing here?"

[vislor-turlough.livejournal.com]

"What else? The Sorting Hat dragged me here too. I guess I should say welcome to Hogwarts."

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

"Sorting... hat," he repeated uncertainly. "Are you quite all right? You didn't... crash that ship and sustain some grave injury about your head, did you? Turlough, I'd hoped you could look after yourself."

[nolongerprimal.livejournal.com]

Dialga was still stuck in the Sorting Room for his sorting. He lowered his head and sniffed at the Doctor.

"YOU SMELL OF THE TIMESTREAM," he said.

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

If only the Doctor could say that being sniffed by a dragon was a new and singular experience. As it happened, unfortunately, he couldn't. Instead, he remained still, mentally berating himself for not having noticed that particular niche (or the massive creature in it) before. Not that he was afraid, though.

"Really?" he replied amiably. "I'm often told I smell of linseed oil, actually. I wasn't aware Time had a particularly distinctive scent."

[nolongerprimal.livejournal.com]

"PERHAPS YOU CAN'T SMELL IT BECAUSE YOU ARE HUMAN. OR PERHAPS IT IS BECAUSE I AM THE TEMPORAL POKEMON, AND THEREFORE SENSITIVE TO TIME THAT I CAN SMELL IT."

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

He couldn't help but bristle a bit at that. "Well, if I smell human to you, then perhaps you might do with a bit of lemon in your tea to clear your senses," he muttered under his breath before coughing and speaking up.

"I don't believe I've heard of a 'pokemon', sorry, but the ability to smell time is impressive indeed. Are you a sentient descendant--no, not descendant, you haven't got the physiology by far--are you distantly related, by chance, to the vortisaurs?"

[redunderwearman.livejournal.com]

Freakazoid didn't spend much time as Dexter anymore. He preferred to be Freakazoid, where he could be as cooky as he wanted and no one cared, and be popular, which is something a nerd like him lacked.

However, he happened to be Dexter when the Doctor came to Hogwarts, and listened in fascination at the Doctor's explanation on pocket dimensions.

"Gee, that's all very fascinating!" he said as the Doctor pocketed everything. "But I'm not sure technology's good enough to do that yet, mister."

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

The Doctor glanced up from having watched the quill and parchment disappear, and grinned. Ah, young scientists.

"It depends on your know-how, really," he countered, rummaging in his pockets again. Out came what at first glance was an ornate little snuff box, but when opened, revealed a small button. "Or, I suppose, what system you hail from and the trade laws in place there. Some planets refuse to import materials topping a certain technological cap, unfortunately, but honestly, once you've familiarised yourself with some of the more useful elements in the Universe, you can make anything if you put your mind to it."

Someday, people would learn not to encourage him to talk.

"Have you got something small on you? Bit of paper, perhaps?"

[redunderwearman.livejournal.com]

Well, it's certainly not going to be Dexter.

"Oh, um..." he rummaged through his pockets. "You sound like you're from another planet," he said as he pulled out a piece of scrap paper.

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

" 'From' is relative, chap, as is 'another'. I mostly tend to flit about, as it stands, probably too much to consider myself 'from' anywhere these days." He gave a lopsided grin, and held out his free hand for the paper. It didn't seem as if he were actively trying to avoid an implication, but it was easy to tell he was accustomed to talking in circles.

"Now, to bend a small segment of space around itself, all you'd really need is a quantum volume manipulator, like this one. It's a bit more complicated than a standard pocket-pocketer, because I was lucky enough to find a self-sustaining singularity rather than a wormhole, but the principle stands."

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

Oh, that wasn't even fair. He spent enough time brooding and second-guessing old memories, and now his nose was being rubbed in a whole set.

Oh, the Doctor really had been this young, hadn't he? It seemed like so long ago. And he might have broken into a rage, might have unleashed some of his always-simmering fury into a wonderfully enraged 'welcome', but...

"Australian cheddar? You're comparing them to cheeses now, Doctor? Can I try a few?"

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

Had the Doctor known exactly who that remark was coming from, he might have reacted with a bit less indignation and a great deal more outrage.

"I beg your pardon?" was what happened, with a guarded and somewhat offended expression. "A few of what?"

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

Indignation was a nostalgia trip enough; he'd rather have at least a minute or so before being faced with full-on outrage. It was fascinating, really, watching the Doctor, this Doctor, from his current (and somewhat confused) perspective.

"Your little friends, Doctor. If you're going to start thinking of them as the cheese course, surely I can make a comparison or two?"

[captian-smexy.livejournal.com]

((This is Jack after getting the whammy with the Time Vortex thanks to Rose))

Any good excuse to get out of the Hat Shore, right?

Jack all but bounded into the Sorting Room, looking around. Who was it this time? He had missed the green guy, which was a pity, but maybe this time -- drat. A not entirely unattractive blonde, so there was at least a little hope.

He leaned against the table, exuding that casual sort of sensual energy that seemed to either get him into bed or into trouble. Most days he was happy with either. His brows drew together in a frown.

"Doctor? Again? Really burning through the lives, aren't you?"

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

_{(( It's all good! I actually chalk Nine/Ten's canon issues with Jack's condition (wow my spellcheck gave the TOTALLY wrong word) up to something massive that happened to Eight in HIS canon, so the worst Five will get is a touch of vertigo :3 ))}

The Doctor turned to address the voice, mildly startled. At the mention of lives, he raised a brow and removed his spectacles, giving the Captain a sceptical gaze. Something about the man seemed vaguely off, but the Doctor couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"I beg your pardon," he replied after a moment, "but I don't believe we've met. Will have met. Yet," he added, sounding vaguely disoriented. "Who are you?"

[captian-smexy.livejournal.com]

((Hehe! Tricksy technology!))

Jack waved off the confusion with an easy grin, "Yeah, I know. It's hard to keep it all straight. I mean time travel's one thing, but changing your look? It's like you're trying to make it harder for the rest of us," he joked easily.

A part of him was still bracing for the reaction. The 'holy crap you're not normal, not supposed to be', but for now, he'd wait it out. Maybe this Doctor wasn't going to be quite as weird about his fixed point in time issues.

[i-am-an-hero.livejournal.com]

A had been doing a little harvesting in the mangosteen grove, and peeked into the sorting room out of curiosity. It was a great testament to the progress he'd made in the past few years that he wasn't distressed by the applicant's name (or, rather, title), if a subtle one.

It helped, of course, how very reassuring all the answers were. Most new arrivals managed to make him vaguely uneasy in one way or another, but a distaste for killing or 'harassment' were both very good starts. He set down the basket of fruit he was carrying.

"Could, could, a pocket dimension, could you use one to house a compost heap?"

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

"Sorry?" The Doctor looked up from the gizmo he'd fished from his pocket to fiddle with, looking vaguely out of sorts. And then he blinked, stricken. For a brief, distracted moment, he was looking at Adric. Staring in disbelief, it only took him the moment of setting the device on the table to realise it wasn't; this boy's face was all wrong. But a bit around the nose and chin, and if the hair were thicker, and the tone a bit less meek... it was almost unnerving.

Oh! There'd been a question, hadn't there?

"Err... sorry, yes. It's possible to store nearly anything in a pocket dimension, if you can fit the gateway around whatever it is, or transport smaller bits through it. I expect a compost heap would accumulate, so you'd likely only need a gateway the size of... oh, a kitchen bin, probably."

[i-am-an-hero.livejournal.com]

The reaction startled A; no-one had ever looked at him like that. There were never new arrivals that recognized him because there was no-one to recognize.

"So you think it would be practical? It, it would be nice if the compost didn't take up as much room. I could put in some more fruit trees, or, or maybe a bench." And because it wasn't in his nature to ignore distress, "Are you all right? People are upset sometimes, when they arrive. I, I, I was." He smiled sheepishly at the understatement. "But most of the people here are kind."

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

If the Hat had proper eyes instead of folds of fabric, they would have glazed over during the impromptu science class. The Hat, wise and all-knowing as it was, did not sit in on classes for a reason.

"I see you are a smarty-pants."

[a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com]

The Doctor was about to expostulate in defence of the honour of his pants before he remembered that particular "pet" name when Peri liked to tease him. Which, granted, was rather often. And so, instead, he made a strange face, and then... sort of smiled.

"And I see," he replied smoothly, "that you are a hat. We seem to be at an impasse."

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

The Hat glared suspiciously at the Doctor. "Touché." It wiggled its straps, perhaps akin to a gunslinger wiggling his fingers over gun holsters, except there were no guns to be found so the gesture was effectively wasted. "So you like science, and cheddar, and time and space... do you like movies about gladiators?"

Ravenclaw!

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

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