{Outside Port, WHOA!}

Shiro watched as Eward and Shikin both made introductions to Nisha, helping the lady to feel welcomed. He started forward and smiled happily to her, his hair bouncing behind him as the highknot kept it elevated a bit. "It is nice to meet you, I am Shiro W-" He stopped abruptly when he saw Nisha's attention turned to something past his shoulder. His eyes, still brown from his image inducer, went as wide as they could as he beheld the brightest, most decorative man he had ever seen. He'd only seen two others that wore more clothes, but they were never so colorful, nor did they wear such...paint on their faces.

He did a literal flip in the air as Wattles came over toward Nisha. Shiro landed two feet to Wattles' left, nearly landing on Eward. His mouth was agape in awe. He slowly stepped closer, bending and tilting his body. He carefully examined every article of clothing he could without touching. The coat, the cuffs, the hair... Is that fake?! He blinked a few times and leaned close behind Wattles, nearly poking his nose into the other man's neck. "... What?!" He nearly yelled as he backed away.

Fake hair?? Shiro began scratching at his head, then tugged his hair a bit, flinching when a hair came out of his scalp. "Okay, it's not contagious... Is it medical? A cultural tradition?" He walked around to Wattles' right side, looking immediately at the cufflinks of the decorative coat. He glared at them a second, wondering if they would should signs of teeth.

Careful... Those things are good at playing dead.

Shiro was astounded and utterly confused by the man's mere existence. He tapped at his chin, his attention so distracted, "****@%% !!%#&*(((#3.... @^**((@!!~!##.... ???," that he forgot to not speak in his natural, odd language. He quickly covered his mouth when he realized, knowing that some of the words he'd just said were commonly mistaken for curse words and profane swears in a few other dialects. "Sorry, um..." He paused a moment and stared at Wattles' face. "... I apologize if this seems rude, but... Is your race born with such colorful skin? Or did you have an accident of some sort?"

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What's she looking at? thought Shikin as Mia stared over his shoulder. You're meant to look someone in the eyes when yo- Oh god. he thought as the three eyes on the back of the head reported a moving pink anomaly behind him. He stepped to the side and turned to watch Wattles introduce himself to Mia, his bandages writhing a little as he fumed about being overshadowed like this, waiting impatiently for Shiro to finish talking too.Whatever he's called, he's certainly spouting a lot of waffle. Shikin muttered as he looked Wattles up and down, not that there was much difference there. ...Anyone ever told you that more isn't always better? He asked, the tone he used was a little snarky and condescending, and he couldn't help but begin to tidy himself up a little, straightening his hat, pulling back down his sleeves, etc as he stared at this pink eyesore. Gods this man was annoying him, pink was all very well and good in moderate dashes, but even eight year-old girls would think Wattles was going a bit too far. So did you mix a red with your whites or do you really like pink then? He asked, fidgeting with his hands as they pulled hankies and multi-coloured flowers out one sleeve and stuffing them up the other. Up until he pulled out his own rose with black and dark red petals and held it out towards Mia, his three front eyes still staring blankly at Wattles.

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“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.”

(Space Port)

Jerry shakes the offered hand, and gives it a friendly shake. “It’s good to see someone from the homeland.” He says with a grin. “Inception? Well a great movie from 2010 directed by Christopher Nolan, who did the last two Batman films, in 2005 and 2008.” He says to Taylor, and turns as well and glares when Wattles arrives. “Alright, this is getting weird… wears drag, wig and lipstick… and hits on the only chick in class… I bet he is French.” He sniggers to the other two British guys Alex and Taylor. “Being guests here and all… seeing this guy… I could use a stiff drink right now mates.” He says watching the other group of students interact.

Alex, 21st century?

Alex swallowed hard as he heard his two countrymen speak, they spoke of film and other strange subjects he had never heard of but what shocked him was the fact that both of them came from a time period far, far ahead of his own. With trembling hands he neared them both, "Did you say both of you were from the 21st century? From The United Kingdoms?" He paused for a moment trying to comprehend all of what was happening before swallowing again, "I'm Alex Chaplin, born in 1920, a member of the 6th Airborne division..... did...did we win the war? The second great war?"

There was a strange hint of desperation to his voice, it longed to know what happened to his company, to his friends, to his family and to his country. Dozens of questions swarmed his mind but he knew that now was not the time ask them. Who knew what kind of consequences could occur if he found out information before the appointed time? But then, with his change, Alex probably would never return to his own time. Not like this though Braxiatel did say they could alter his memory... however that worked.
He shook his head not paying attention to what his countrymen were looking at as another thought entered his mind, "... Please don't tell me I'm somehow related to either of you... it would be terrible if I found out this way that I'm a grandfather or a great grandfather..."

Wattlegallopavo

~Space Port----I'm A Fool~

Wattles beamed at Nisha, delighted more than anything that the people here had a sense of humor. He was afraid he'd have to force it into them. Yet here she was, laughing. "Nice to meet you my dear! My name is-!" He was distracted by a man who was studying him as if he was a piece of art at an art museum. Wattles regarded him back with patience and a smile, he probably didn't get around much. He had to laugh when he asked about his face. "No, no, I'm Gallifreyan. This, good sir is only powder, paint, and glitter." He chuckled some more. "If you want, I could share with you some of my secrets later. You don't see many men who are interested in the sacred art of cosmetics." His smile towards Shiro was genuine. This was the sort of man he could share anything and everything with and not be judged on his strangeness. Quite unlike some people who stood here.

Once again, the man turned to face Nisha and gave her a deep bow of respect, before standing tall and proud in front of his new peers knowing fair well what some of them thought of him. "Actually, I must say, it's quite swell to meet all of you! My name is Wattlegallopavo, loomed to the House of Pavo, and of the Patrex Chapter. Usually people call me Wattles but you know what? I think I might like the name Waffles better!" he added, grinning playfully at the tall man in the bandages. "And I beg to differ my multi-eyed friend. How would you know how far you can go, without taking a few risks? Like when I mixed my wonderful pearl white frock, with my red jammies. And now I've got this." He pointed to his frock for good measure, "It was so horrible. I thought, 'I must give this a try!' And so I did. Now look how happy I am!" Once again he bowed gleefully, enjoying the attention he was receiving. His face lit up when Shikin pulled out a type of rose he had never seen before. "Now I must ask, dear sir, what sort of rose is that? Why, I've never seen it before in my life. It's quite perculiar..." He paused, and then questioned, "Is it poisonous?"

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Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

(Space Port with the British Bunch)

“Oh we tottaly did, mate!” Jerry patted Alex’ back with a wide smile. “Hitler and the whole Nazi command was assessinated by a jewish special force while attending the movie premier of a german propaganda flick.” He says, but stops and blinks for a few times. “No, wait… that was a Tarentino movie.” He mumbles. “Ah yes, Hitler commited suicide while his bunker was under siege by the Red Army, in 1945… May I believe. Then Germany was torn into two for… 45 years. They reunited in 1990 I think, and are good fellows still then. And our queen is Elizabeth the 2nd…” He kept on dumping history on Alex despite he asked him not to. After a while his brain caught up with the request. “Oh… well… why? I mean do we two look that ugly?” He pointed at Taylor and himself before laughing. “Take it easy mate, everything is gonna be fine home.” He said, and wrapped an arm around Alex’ shoulder and gave him a nudge to cheer him up.

Wait, so this maniac actually did mix a red with his whites? I suppose sometimes there's just no accounting for taste with some people. he thought irritably, mentally glaring at the man. A small bead of pride grew as he heard he hadn't seen the rose before until he ruined it by asking if it was poisonous. Of course not, I made these flowers myself, and why would I go and give a poisonous rose to... his voice trailed off, anger quickly fading as he reconsidered something. He looked back at the rose, then Mia, the rose, then back to Wattles, pulling the rose back hesitantly. I know it's not poisonous to humans. Err, perhaps a different token of our greeting would be safer, better, I mean.. He moved the flower up to his face, holding the very bottom of it between finger and thumb, then he gripped it with his other hand and pulled it upwards, his hand sliding up the stem and over the petals. Et voila. he muttered as he pulled his hand up and off, revealing the same black and red rose, but now slightly translucent. This rose will never give off seeds but it will last much longer then it's brethren. It's now made from Vicrast, a sort of living crystal, do take care of it please. He said briskly, his other hand now hung loosely at his side, a few drops of blood meeting at the tips of his fingers before he carefully put it in his pocket. I never got round to naming it by the way Wattles. Never wanted too. He sighed as he looked back at Wattles. Sorry for the introduction, I think I've been a bit unpleasant to you so far.

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“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.”

   Nisharahamin Lah Kashingmahalia, Nisha / Miahalia, Mia    - Gallifreyan Spaceport

Nisha tried to comprehend the situation that slowly unraveled around her, feeling slightly confused by the sudden amount of new faces and names. The man in pink whom she had just met, had somehow rubbed the bandaged man the wrong way. Meanwhile, she witnessed another alien who seemed to resemble a human having one of the weirdest reactions to a pink wig. "   Oh um, thank you. I guess?   " the man in wrapped in bandages had offered her another rose, which was rather unique in appearance, and her surprise prevented her from making a proper response. Instead, all the engineer could do was accept the little gift with her hands. Out of curiosity, she began to examine the rose while everyone else bantered. Behind her visor, a digital screen popped up and scanned the plant that she held in her hands.

Hmm, normal plant life. No oddities or anything that stood out, other than a slightly altered content of glucose and water... she remarked in her thoughts before turning her attention back to what was happening around her. "   It doesn't seem to be poisonous,   " she replied upon hearing Wattles' question and added, "   In fact, it looks rather lovely.   " There had been a tone of happiness at her last few words and it was surprisingly genuine coming from a person like herself.

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Captain of Innuendo Strike Forces & Founder of Innuendo Striking Technique

{Port}

Shiro tilted his head a bit as he started understanding the "how" of Wattles' appearance. Though, the "why" still escaped him. "Hmm... Actually, at first I couldn't think of a reason why someone would want to wear such things. But now... Well, I'm suddenly inspired as to a little joke I could have at my family's expense using such cosmetics." He smiled happily at first, then his mind registered what Wattles had said to Shikin. It'd taken a few moments for him to catch up, what with his mind ablast with random trivia he was overhearing about a great war of some kind.

Shiro stepped aside a bit, giving Wattles and Shikin a bit more room. He looked over to the bandaged man, his brow lightly furrowed with a quizzical glance. Are his colors really that bright? Does he dislike pink? Shiro couldn't honestly ponder what could actually be odd with what Wattles was wearing, other than it attracted attention very quickly with the patterns and-Ohhhh, now I see... Thank you, brain. He started to chuckle and snicker upon finally catching up with what his brain was telling him. Shikin likes the attention and spotlight. Wattles naturally distracts with bright colors to play upon baser instincts of all creatures...

Shiro put his hands behind his back and smiled wide again, deciding to wait and let the situation resolve itself further. Then he watched Shikin apologize. Ahhh, resolution! He brought his hands back down to his sides. "That's better. See? We can all be friends, now." He stated, more as a means of thinking out loud than trying to converse. "Actually, I'd enjoy having you fellows as friends. You both seem knowledgable, and I've hardly gotten to know much of the finer details to the local society." He lightly scratched his cheek with a finger, wondering if he'd managed to propose the idea in the correct manner.

Blast... I really do have to get used to this language. Shiro's eyes lowered and looked aside a moment, inadvertently missing Nisha's response to the situation while he was distracting himself again with thought.

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Gilbrid Bhaltair – Part of Your World

Gilbrid looked at Dayvan with wide red eyes and a wide crooked smile. “Ja! Nice meet you, Da-van,” he chirped, his chipped teeth showing and rubbing the pale scar on his cheek, “Would be rude to ask what Da-van is?” he asked softly, a tenor voice, curious but trying to keep from being insulting or discourteous.

He stared slightly at Wattles, seeming curious but not quite brave enough to go over to the brightly coloured man, [color=#0080FF] “Is bright, ja?” he commented to Dayvan. He bounced on the balls of his feet with his white hair swaying, curious as to what the Starman was thinking, but not wanting to pry. He wanted to make friends and learn things, not push himself into a corner where he would have no one to help him or like him. He brushed his fingers against the fur around his waist. Luck, luck, luck, he thought watching to people interact around him.

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Dayvan - Space port

The little human seemed awfully excited. He had all right to be though, it was an exciting day after all. "You are more than allowed to inquire about my race. Although I'm surprised you have not heard of my people." Perhaps the media on Samum were a bit too overzealous in explaining how far their trading contracts ran? Or maybe Gallifreyans didn't interest themselves in foreign races. If this boy even is a Gallifreyan, it was difficult to see the differences. "I am of the Samum. A trader race known in this system for it's centralized trading hub." Dayvan took another short bow and looked at the peculiar pink man.

"Yes, the pink... man is indeed very bright." Dayvan pondered for a few seconds. He could easily approach the strangely colored man alone, but he'd rather do it with someone else. Making new friends was always easier when nobody knows nobody. "Shall we meet with him? Perhaps he knows what we must do next?" He looked back at Gilbrid.

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Gilbrid Bhaltair – Strangers Like Me

Gilbrid nodded, “Samum. I not know much, Time Lord say I am from far past. All I know is Teutonic Knight, and fighting wars. I did not know of different things, is big learning.” He grinned and took into step behind Dayvan, “Ja, maybe he know, we see.” He bounced happily, but took the place he had been taught to in the Order. Two steps behind and one to the left, the inferior man, the guard. His job was to protect, there was no way he saw himself as equal. “Er hat weiße Haare haben. (He has white hair too.) War er verletzt wie ich? (Was he hurt like me?)“ he muttered softly, waiting to follow the taller man, his curious eyes jumping around.

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Wattlegallopavo

~Space Port----Everything's Alive~

Fascination overtook him as Wattles gazed at the bandaged man's skilled fingers as he made the rose somehow translucent. He was still dumbfounded, even as the man offered it to the lovely lady. What was even more impressive, was the fact that this guy had apparently created the gem. "Oh wow." he breathed. "You created this huh?" He looked up at Shikin, giving him a warm smile. "Well, sir, you have a gift! he exclaimed "It's a shame though, that it hasn't had a name given to it yet. One would think that it is only proper to name something, whether it be living or dead."

Suddenly, the man stopped his lecture, bending down to open his suitcase. It was an average looking suitcase, like the sort you would see at an airport. Naturally, one would believe that nothing but clothes and maybe a toothbrush was packed in here. However, once opened it appeared....empty. That is, until Wattles reached in with one of his gloved hands. It reached all the down, up to where the only visible part of his arm was his shoulder. Even then he continued to dig deeper until his head had completely disappeared from sight. Every now and then, some materials would bounce right out from within the seemingly never ending depths from the suit case; A unicycle, a donkey's head, a large cup, a tube that made a "groaning sound", a fiddle, and a kite until Wattles exclaimed with triumph "Aha!"

The man in pink ascended from within the suitcase, an accomplished look on his face. In his hand, was a rubber chicken. "See this little guy? This..." he took a moment to prop him upon his shoulder, fighting hard to keep him erect. "This is George, my only and most loyal friend. Now, I know what you're all thinking. 'What's the damn point', right? Haha! Well...It's hard to explain..." Wattles looked at George, who uncannily seemed to stare back, piercing his soul even. "I like to think that somehow, everything is alive. We're just to blind to see it, somehow... It's like a warrior and his sword, a hunter and his gun, a man and his hammer..." There was a long pause, that was just as awkward. He smiled softly, before bursting out in the most conventional way, "I say we should name him Fred! That's appropriate enough, if you don't mind me saying so! Are we in agreement, my new friend?" Wattles held out his hand for Shikin to shake.

_________________

Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

Alex Chaplin

Swallowing hard as more information was just dumped into his mind, "So we won the war after all? T-that's a relief to hear, I.... you can't imagine the relief I feel right now. Thank you, thank you so much." He said grabbing Jerry's hand and shaking it thoroughly, "Though it's a shame that the reds got to Berlin before us, at least they did keep their end of the line after all. Command always thought they would turn on us the second we let them."
Alex nervously let the man go, "Well it's good to hear that everything is...is fine back home." He let out a sigh and moved away to look at the ships that were still arriving.

Although Alex seemed genuinely happy that his country had survived the war, it also showed how much he missed his home. He was saddened but with a shake of the head the emotion passed ever since he was trapped within that living nightmare, that he'd never set foot on England's soil again. But that was fate, that was the hand dealt to him and now Alex had to make the best of it so mopping around wasn't the best answer.
With a heavy sigh he turned back to the two brits, "I suppose we should head to the meeting point, Braxiatel requested that I be there on time, not sure about you two but I'd rather not disappoint the man. But I honestly have no clue which way we're meant to be going... "

-Spaceport: "A Lady In Green"-

The walk to the spaceport had been a long one through the streets of the capital city of Gallifrey. The city was a still a strange and foreign place to Tos-Strue with it paved streets, buildings of carved stone, metal, plastic, and glass, and artificial lights that advertised the existence of many a place of business. At night the city could get so bright that you couldn’t even see the stars, and even when you could they zipped around the sky in ways no star ever should. It was all at once bewildering and beautiful in its own way despite how artificial everything was. Even the secluded green places were kept in these strange little square places called ‘parks’. Tos-Strue took root in one of these places now to rest during the night time. The people of Galifrey had much more regard for their own creations than for that which grew around them naturally. The plants in these ‘parks’ were strong and healthy for the most part however. It was as much as could be asked of the Gallifreyans. Still, Tos-Strue has to shake her head in the negative. It was a gesture she had picked up recently, and a convenient one. No one seemed to understand the smell of ‘limes’ as many put it, and there were not antenna to shake like back on the beetle planet.

After a while she could see the spaceport shining in the distance. It was one of Gallifrey’s strangest places of all. Giant towers of metal and flame and smoke fell to the ground and rose to the sky all day and night. She had once been told that those shining towers took people to other worlds and back. Space travel had been one of their pinnacle of achievements. To Tos-Strue it seemed like big waste. She and her fellows could travel near anywhere without the aid of such things, and to be so close to so much fire was unthinkable. She didn’t want to get too close, the whole place managed to smell of depression and pride all at once. It was strange. She had to remember though that for the Gallifreyans smell only provided minor pleasure or annoyances. To herself however, it was so much more. Luckily she didn’t have to go inside.

As she approached, Tos-Strue could see a gathering of what she believed to be other students chatting with each other. Some were Gallifreyan others were quite obviously not. There were so many different creatures from different worlds to see here. There would be much to learn indeed even if this place was backwards. Among the group were a man in cloth wrappings and a man in pink talking energetically about giving a name to a name to a single flower plucked at its stem and given to a lady in the group. Tos-Strue had been told once that people buy and sell flowers so that they can appreciate their smell and beauty. The Gallifreyans had an odd way of showing it if appreciating that which is beautiful involves dismembering that which lives so that its parts wither and die. “This one disagrees.” She stated matter-of-factly to the one dressed all in pink. Tos-Strue examined him intently with her unblinking black eyes. “Would it not be better to let the flower give its own name?” She turned towards the man in the cloth wrappings and then to the flower held by the woman in succession. “If you will allow me, this one may be of some assistance in the matter before the flower wilts.” She held a hand out stretched towards the flower and smiled practicing another Gallifreyan gesture.

Even for a being that could see all around himself at once, there seemed to be a lot suddenly going on right now. He was grateful for the mild twinge of pride as the girl praised his flower, it was one of his more complex creations. He'd spent years adapting the rose, bit by bit each generation, improving it, trying to make it so it could survive anything, whilst limiting it's breeding potential proportionately, all he wanted was to make sure it could bloom anywhere, not that it would bloom everywhere. It was a tricky balance to get and he was still trying to perfect it, magic could be a bit... inaccurate at times. I'm afraid I won't be able to help you much with society here Shiro, I think most of the knowledge I have of it is quite outdated by now. All the books I've come across have been very diverse about it. Although... He smiled a little internally. I wouldn't mind sampling some of it with company. The one source that came across the subject says the nightlife here in certain areas is absolutely wild.

Another spike of annoyance came up though as Wattles insisted upon a name, it was a perfectly reasonable suggestion but it just seemed to piss Shikin off like nails dragged across a blackboard. Typical time-lord, everything needs a name, everything needs a place. I know what it is when I see it, when I smell and feel it, why should I limit it to something so mundane as a name? I may as well let him call it Ivy and be done with this. He really was lucky he didn't have to worry about facial ticks giving away his emotions, another reason he kept on his bandages, plus there were countless people and even some species out there who had learned to read people just by looking them in the eye. So much better just to hide yourself away, giving you so much more freedom over your natural actions. And then, Wattles pulled out a rubber chicken. Eh? Shikin said blankly as he listened to Wattles blather on about everything being alive and then about naming the flower Fred. I was following you right up unto you decided to call the flower Fred. He said carefully, not entirely sure how to react to this loonie. He'd met his fair share, sure, but it was too soon to decide this guy wouldn't be dangerous. Then again, he's seemed harmless enough so far, just a bit erratic perhaps. Maybe I should loosen up a little.

He nodded and was about to shake Wattle's hand but jerked it back as he saw Tos-Strue coming their way. He listened carefully, and had to admit, he liked her suggestion, anything would be better then "Fred" although...was his flower sentient enough? Yes, the magic he'd fed into their race over the years had indirectly given it a certain higher quality then the other earth flowers, he'd been able to feel that from them for decades now but...just how aware is it? he asked himself, some panic rising. Calm, calm, it isn't that intelligent, and it's not like you spilled out your life secrets to them, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. He took a deep breath, steadying himself and replid to her. You don't have to worry about it wilting now, so long as it's kept in company it'll last another century without water, three if given good care. It's quite a special flower, a unique rose from my own adapted species.

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“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.”

-Spaceport: Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue...-

Tos-Strue turned her gaze back toward the man whose face was wrapped in cloth. Why he did such a thing she did not know. Perhaps the fabric was his face, like her own ‘clothing’ was a part of herself. She examined the fabric intently for a moment before speaking once more. “It is a great feet for a flower to last so long without wilting after being plucked so.” She seemed impressed if a little confused. “This one thinks so. A century is a long time, yes?” She froze for a moment, thinking. Time words didn’t translate so very well. The ‘day’ here was shorter than on some worlds and longer than on others. ‘Year’ was an odd concept. It was the time it took worlds to travel around their sun she had read. Tos-Strue knew not of moving worlds but of moving stars. The Gallifreyans must need a different measure with stars that move so quickly and without pattern. “Yes.” She confirmed.

“You are a farmer of the flowers? You choose its path and not let it grow as it will?” Tos-Strue was filled with intrigue. A plant guided on its path by another intelligent creature, and not the passing of an insect or the blowing of the wind. There were many on Gallifrey but this one would not wilt, so the man said. “This one would very much like to see.” She nodded, then paused for a moment. “Excuse this one. This one must introduce itself. This one is Tos-Strue of Sentrent. This one is pleased to meet you all.”

Dayvan - Space Port

Dayvan approached the strange pink dressed... man carefully, with the strange short red face boy in tow. There were some others around the... man. Even up close Dayvan wasn't entirely sure if it was a man or not, he wasn't awfully familiar with these races. For all he knew the woman here could look a bit too manly.

"E-excuse me... Sir?" He tried carefully "If I may have some of your time?" He really hoped that he didn't have the gender wrong, or that he was interrupting anything important. "Me and my... companion here were hoping that perhaps you could enlighten us on things to come?" Dayvan took a deep bow, the same he had given the short red faced boy.

He gave the same bow to the others around, a man, a woman -- Or at least, that's what Dayvan thought. He wasn't yet ready to make such assumptions -- and a green woman who looked unlike anything he'd ever seen. For a moment he was just dumbstruck, there was a primal beauty in this creature that just captivated him. But he quickly regained control again. "A pleasure to make your acquaintances, my name is Dayvan Onwuka." He'd led the little red faced man introduce himself, it would be rude if he would do it for him. He kept looking over to the green woman though, he wondered where she was from?

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Gilbrid Bhaltair – Hakuna Matata

Gilbrid turned a slightly brighter red but grinned innocently at them, “I Gilbrid Bhaltair. I please to meet you.” He was half hiding behind Dayvan but watching with open curiosity, his red eyes on the bandaged man. He rubbed his scars and tilted his head, asking timidly, “Vhat your names? Und vhere vere you before you come here? How vere you found by Time Lord?” He rubbed the tail-belt around his waist and smiled. Things vill be fine.

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Wattlegallopavo

~Spaceport----The Clueless One~

Wattles was so transfixed by the discussion between the bandaged man and the interesting alien that was happening before him, that he did not notice the strange star man who was trying to talk to him. He beamed at the star man, not really knowing how to answer his question. In fact he didn't really know how to approach the being at all. Although He himself, did not know what the heck was going to happen after this. To be perfectly honest, nor did he care. Whatever happened, happened. Wattles wasn't one to worry about it. But he did feel sorry for the star man, the poor fellow probably never even set foot on Gallifrey before, let alone hear of it. The least he could do was give an answer.

"They'll only lead you to the slaughterhouse where they will skin you alive until nothing but your muscle and then-"

"That's enough George!" shushed Wattles, giving off a nervous laugh. The rubber chicken began struggling within his grip, it was almost as if it was staring angrily at the Gallifreyan. Wattles chuckled nervously again, thinking nothing of the fact that he was talking to a rubber chicken. "Pay George absolutely no mind" he assured the star man, "He just dislikes being cramped up inside a suitcase is all. Really, he is quite harmless." "Turn back! You will only find pain and suffering!" "Quiet you!" Without further notice, George was stuffed back into the bottomless suitcase. Leaning on it with a grin, Wattles assured the human once again, "See? Harmless?" Absentmindedly, Wattles began stroking the back of his neck, ignoring the noises that the suitcase was making. It was getting pretty hot up there. Or maybe, it was only his imagination. Wattles tried to give the star man his softest look of compassion, and honesty.

"Actually, this is my first time coming to the Academy as well. So, I'm just as clueless as you are! Funny huh?" He paused, trying to get past the fact that he could almost see the universe in his skin. Dayvan would notice that he wasn't actually looking at him in the eyes the entire time. Rather, he was staring at his skin. "Say..." he begun, now curious, "Of what race are you? You certainly aren't human."

He then heard another being beside him, this one was most definitely human. He looked at him and beamed, and then looked back at Dayvan. "I am Wattlegallopavo by the way, but I'd much prefer it if you were to call me Wattles. Or Waffles." he added, winking at Shikin."Whatever you wish." His gaze returned to the human once again, nodding knowingly. "Anyways, I came from the Midtown sector of this city, wonderful place. We should go their together. It has all sorts of stuff! Theatres, museums, a wonderful art gallery, libraries, the best taverns with the best rum around, plenty of marketplaces for the ladies, and plenty of tourist attractions to go around. I grew up inside a theatre you know. Our theatre is simply the best, and worth a visit. All the plays you can think of will be presented, the best of comedy and the best of tragedy. Maybe even a magic show~!"

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Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

And I'm Shikin. he replied politely to Tos-Strue. Yes, I do grow some flowers and other plants, I find them very calming to look after and be around. Normally I leave most of the specimens on their own and just dabble with a few races at a time. Make an adaption, leave them for a few generations and then go back and see if they're better off from it or need to be reverted. Apart from the Bonsai tree, that one is just tricky to deal with. He sighed happily as he thought back to his own private forest with that little garden in it. One of his own private little worlds. Emphasis on private. But I'm afraid it's not open to visits. he added, a touch of steel entering his voice. Especially to beings I've just met I'm afraid. He touched the tip of his hat, tilting it forward slightly, shading his eyes. Speaking of which, don't go promising them anything from me Waffles. He said, stepping towards Dayvan and Gilbrid. Not until we've discussed my fee anyway.

He shook his arms and then showed the empty insides of his sleeves to the pair, one arm at a time and then tipped his hat off, showing the empty inside to them. I will give you two a little preview though, Waffles can pay me by showing me some of the supposed wonders of Midtown, but first I'll need a volunteer, and it seems I have one. He reached into his hat and pulled out a certain rubber chicken. Thank you for agreeing to help me with this George. One of his eyes winked at Wattles as he gently placed George back in the hat and showed him sitting in there to Dayvan and Gilbrid before pulling it back, the inside out of their sight. He twirled a hand and with a flick of the wrist pulled a plain-looking wand out of the air. Nunc id vides... He tapped the bottom of the hat once, twice, three times. Nunc ne vides. Witha "bu-CUCK" a small poof of yellow smoke erupted from the hat which Shikin quickly waved away as he stuck his hand down and out to allow the others to look down into. There, I decided to take some years off him as gratitude for his help. he said coyly as the little chick cheeped happily as it scurried around the inside of the hat. Although, I have to say, I wouldn't have though George would be so excitable, he seemed quite lazy to me. In fact, I don't think this is him. He raised his wand hand to his face in mock horror. Oh dear, I wonder where I sent him, we're going to have to search all over for the poor fellow. Unless... In one dramatic movement, he stuffed his hand, wand and all into Wattle's wig and pulled it back, except instead of his wand he now held George in it. Huh, guess he's really attracted to you then.

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“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.”

[Ewaradiancidental] "Time for time?"

Eward being Eward had left himself get drawn into his own little world as he so often does, however he had just finished tuning his screwdriver. She was now fully able to read any alien biology and send it back to him without having to do his silly little motions, you see the signal wasn't clear to him that's why he kepy having to bring it closer to him first to his ear so he could find out if it was done then to eye to actually read it. That's why his responses ere very vague as the screwdriver couldn't do proper DNA pinpointing on each of those he scanned. Obviously it had taken him a while but it was worth it in the long run because as he looked up once finished he realised that the grouping had gotten bigger and oh look another Gallifreyan....A strange one at that. "Oh you must be from lower midtown, I guess that as that is where all the entertainment lies, and a chicken named George? I mean come on where's your comedy from, the early 19th century? Why don't you throw a custard pie in the process." Eward began to circle Wattles inspecting his dress sense with extreme thoroughness. "Pink, pink pink pink, why not call yourself a Carebear and have done with it, I mean I admire the georgian themes and the sense of nobility but the colour scheme and actual items you put together are an absolute eyesore. You look worse than them robes that the council of Time Lords wear." The well suited Gallifreyan folds his arms and takes a step back, he then scrunches his face as if seeing how his actually could be 'improved'.

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Dayvan - Space Port

What a peculiar man, was this common among Gallifreyans? And what was that floppy thing the man was holding, this George? Dayvan leaned in for a closer look of this George. Was it a sentient being? Did it use the peculiar man as a host to communicate through? It didn't look particularly alive. Dayvan decided not to ask.

"Mr. Wattlegallopavo , it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Dayvan took another short bow. He was surprised that this man wasn't a teacher or official. He looked so out of place, then again so did he himself. "You are correct in noticing I am not human, I am a Samum. A trader race." Once more someone who never heard of them. It was a bit distracting that the man wasn't making eye contact all of the time, seemingly more interested in his skin. It was probably something he just had to get used to.

The other man, the one covered in bandages did... something. Dayvan wasn't quite sure what it was he did, but it confused him. Where did George go? And what was this little fluffy thing? "So where did.." before he could even ask it, the bandaged man did another one of those... tricks, that's the correct word he believed. Street peddlers did tricks like this back on Samum, he believed. Pulling George out of Wattlegallopavo's hair. Dayvan wasn't sure whether to be afraid, or applaud.

These were some strange individuals. Was this common among these kind of people? It would make the coming years very interesting. Yet out of all the people, out of all the various races and things happening around him, all the sights in the distance, Dayvan had the most interest in the beautiful green plant-like woman. He had read about plants, seen a few around the space port. But this, this was something on a whole new level. He'd love to walk up to her, introduce himself and ask all kinda of questions, but he was too afraid.

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Wattlegallopavo

~Space Port----Haters Gonna Hate~

The look of confusion Wattles was soon replaced by a look of approval. His family's theatre was always sort of run down in terms of entertainment ever since the unfortunate disappearance of his brother. Who knows what would happen if uncle let him bring in some new talent. It was a thought, but it had potential. Wattles didn't mind showing this guy around town. In fact, he needed a new buddy for a while. George was okay, but alas, he was only a chicken. He looked over to where George was supposed to be, only to see that he was missing. Instead, he was now in the hands of the bandaged man. Wattles stared back at him in a moment of dazed horror. 'What's he going to do to poor George?' Even though he knew this was an act, he couldn't help being generally worried about George's well being. After all, he was his only source of companionship. Imagine, if you will, the look of great relief and happiness that brightened up his pampered face when George came out of his wig. "George, you naughty child!" he scolded, "What were you doing hiding up there!" He then gave the rubber chicken a big squeeze, applauding Shikin for his performance. "Very very good! Though I must warn you, my uncle is not easy to please, but if I can somehow convince my cousin to put in a good word for you I'm sure you'll be fine. Some of the actors are quite tolerant! Well, most of them!" He began opening up his suitcase so he would be able to put George back where he was, no offense towards Shikin, "As for your pay, my family knows the owners of a well kept tavern in Midtown. They serve some of the best drinks in the city if I may mention, and you might be able to earn an extra buck there as well, presuming the owners won't object. They're really tight on performances on my watch ever since I performed there." He gave one of his nervous giggles.

"What have we here?" Wattles directed his attention to his fellow Gallifrey, giving him his utmost respect even though he probably didn't even deserve it. Right off the back the Gallifreyan seemed to him like a guy who was a bit too comfortable sitting on top of his high horse. Absentmindedly, he leaned on his cane. This guy was very tempting. "Well sir, now that you mention it, your outfit could use some style as well. Say! I have a question for you" he suggested, reaching his cane into the suitcase. "What is black and white, but red all over? I'll give you a hint, it is not a bloody newspaper. But until you answer that question, let me amuse you with this comical display of a plate spinning." On the edge of the cane, there was a blue plate that was spinning perfectly in place. Wattles had to struggle a bit, until the other end of the cane was firmly placed on his nose. "But wait! There's more!" The man in pink dug into his pockets, turning them inside out in his search for...something, until he finally presented three rubber balls in the palm of hand. One by one the balls filled the air. "I can juggle!" he announced, "Kind of." Just as quickly as they filled the air, the balls slipped through his fingers, and in no time at all he was struggling to catch them. Soon they all fell to the floor, bouncing off of one another, and the plate propelled through the air, heading towards Eward. "Well, my friend, I might as well tell you the answer after that unfortunate mishap."

"The answer is you."

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Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

[Ewaradiancidental] "Mr. Thick thick thickity"

Eward looked down at his outfit when Wattles said it needed more style. "Well it's more more stylish and fashionable than what you are wearing, at least I won't stick out like a giant pink bullseye." Eward's mind ran through all the stupid answers to that almost ancient of jokes, he was also however watching Wattles do this very poor balancing and catching act, he'd known the answer Wattles was going come out with before he even stated it as it was obvious the Gallifreyan was also playing the mocking card quite like he was. As he saw the blue plate shoot off towards him, he whipped out his screwdriver and fired a high energy pulse that shattered the plate into dust, he then spun it around in his fingers like a cowboy would theatrically do with a gun, he brought it to his lips and blew on the end before putting it back in his pocket. "Oh ha ha ha." He laughed sarcastically. "Like I'd never heard that one before, next time come up with something better before you want to knock me off my high horse as you so thought." Eward crossed his arms, still not truly amused by this poor excuse for a comedian.

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