bowtied:

Oh, my problem wasn’t paying attention. I paid very good attention when I wanted to. My problem, as it happened, was just a habitual repetition of… not-attending classes.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, Doctor. [Romana taps her chin in consideration.] I recall reading somewhere that you had an absentee rate of…[her brow knits together, before her entire face lights up] aha… ninety-one percent. [She tilts her head] What on Earth were you doing when you were supposed to be in lecture? 

bowtied:

I did do the report? Let me guess, that confidentiality wasn’t so confidential either?

Not at all. I couldn’t help but look up some of your work. [Thoughtfully] You know, I wonder what would have happened if you actually paid attention at the academy.

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romanaofheartshaven replied to your post: What kind of food does the Time Lord made? What is the gastronomy of Gallifrey?

Doctor, we did *not* invent pizza.

We definitely did. I did a report on it in forty-third year. Or was that pizzicato…?… did I even do the report…?

[She’s just going to humor him.]

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[The Doctor looks forlornly at the still-boiling kettle of water, and then peeks over his shoulder towards the doorway that leads out into the corridor. His curiosity is piqued, because while he’s certainly aware of the TARDIS’s capability to pilot herself, he knows she isn’t wont to do it often.]

It must be important. [He says eventually, and he reaches to turn the kettle off.] Tea can wait. Let’s go see what’s outside those doors, shall we?

Yes, let’s. I’m eager to know where we are. [She pauses, then—] It’s a rarity isn’t it? That she’s materialized without some kind of direction from you? [Her brow furrows in thought as she pushes through the door, out into the corridor. Romana’s gut twists a little in warning. Something isn’t sitting right with her. For now, she doesn’t voice her feelings, reserving any protests until she sees what they’re up against.]

(Source: romanaofheartshaven)

@romanaofheartshaven

coordinatrix:

Narvin nods.  “Right,” she says.  “Your war—and I’m fairly certain it was your war, from the way you look at this Gallifrey—your war, and its equivalent conflicts in other universe, took a toll even on those of us who never fired a shot.  This universe is chronologically ‘behind’ the Time War by what I understand to be at least a century or two as yet, but the walls of our universe have been badly damaged from the outside by the effects of that conflict elsewhere.  The resultant cracks in the skin of our Vortex have led to… accidents.  TARDISes from other universes, crashing in at a rate of two or three per week so far. 

“Many of the pilots were robbed of their Gallifreys by that same war, or are otherwise outcasts with no homes to return to.  I have devoted two of the CIA’s safehouses to house these refugees, and placed them under my personal care.  Their presence is a secret to everyone else on this world, with the exception of Cardinal Braxiatel, who has agreed to take over the task of protecting these visitors should anything happen to me.  Meanwhile, the top scientists on Gallifrey are working on a plan to repair the cracks in our universe’s walls, and I hope to use the foreknowledge you and your fellow refugees can provide to ensure that the Time War never occurs in this universe, and that we, in our turn, do not inflict that kind of damage on the next universe down the line.

“You, of course, are welcome join the other resident visitors here if you wish.  You would be fed, housed, clothed, and offered safety, medical care, and, within reason, any form of comfort, employment or entertainment that it is within my power to provide.  My only conditions are that you offer no violence or harm towards myself, this world and its other residents, and that you agree to live in secrecy from all but your fellow refugees.  If remaining does not appeal to you, I am willing to help you to repair your TARDIS, or offer you somewhere private to do so yourself, but on the strict understanding that, having repaired it, you immediately leave this universe and never return to it.”

Narvin sits back in her chair. “Questions?”

“None.” Romana answers with a curt nod. The coordinator had made herself quite clear. And really, she hadn’t expected anything less. “I understand, and wish to thank you for your hospitality.” The Time Lady hesitates, it would be easiest to keep herself to herself, work on the TARDIS and go. But Romana could feel her morbid sense of curiosity getting the better of her. She wants to see Gallifrey, even if it’s only a small section. Logically, she knew that this was horrible idea, however, what harm could be done from staying within the safe house? The answer, was obvious.

Forming an attachment was not an option. This was not her Gallifrey. No matter how much it may resemble the past. “I would like to stay in the safe house, if it’s all the same to you, Coordinator. Once my TARDIS has been repaired, I will be on my way. No muss, no fuss.” Romana drains the last of her tea from the cup, and places it gently onto the table with a sense of finality. “I can promise you that.” Even as the words leave her lips, there’s a small twinge of… well, uncertainty. If she kept her head down and stayed out of the way, things would progress fine.

Then again, ‘keeping her head down’ and staying out of the way, really wasn’t Romana’s style.

Write a Headcanon about my character

nonamenotheralias:

If it’s good, it will become official.

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romanaofheartshaven:

bowtied:

[The Doctor blinks at the flick, crosses his eyes as if he could see the very spot.] Overthinking and overcomplicating metaphors is my niche, Romana. If overthinking and overcomplicating metaphors were an Olympic sport, I’d be top of the class. Gold medal.

Well, thank goodness for small mercies. I’m sure if it were an Olympic sport, Doctor, and you happened to win a gold - K-9 and I would never hear the end of it. [She’s smirking now, trying very hard not to laugh] Because, let’s face it, modesty has never been your style, has it?

Oh, Romana, don’t be absurd. [The Doctor raises his eyebrows at her at that, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.] My humility is second only to my ego.

Shocking. [Romana says, brushing her finger tips over the console, casting him an amused glance.] Truly. 

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romanaofheartshaven:

bowtied:

Oh, yes. [he grins] Madder than a box of cats. No- …not a box of cats, that doesn’t make sense… cats love boxes, it wouldn’t make them mad. [He purses his lips, taps his chin. Thoughtful.] Maybe if the sides of the box were laced with catnip…

[Aaaand now she’s rolling her eyes, oh and huffing.] I could be wrong, but I’m quite certain you’re over thinking that metaphor. [Romana gives in between his eyes a little flick.] Stop it. You’ll think yourself into a tizzy. [Okay, so maybe she just wanted to flick him between the eyes.]

[The Doctor blinks at the flick, crosses his eyes as if he could see the very spot.] Overthinking and overcomplicating metaphors is my niche, Romana. If overthinking and overcomplicating metaphors were an Olympic sport, I’d be top of the class. Gold medal.

Well, thank goodness for small mercies. I’m sure if it were an Olympic sport, Doctor, and you happened to win a gold - K-9 and I would never hear the end of it. [She’s smirking now, trying very hard not to laugh] Because, let’s face it, modesty has never been your style, has it?

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romanaofheartshaven:

bowtied:

[eyebrow quirk] I don’t think I sleep often enough or long enough for you to spy in on me during that time. [And the places he tends to sleep are sporadically random, so finding him in that state is another matter entirely.]

[She arches an eyebrow in turn] It was merely a thought. I would never invade your privacy. It was just…  [Romana searches for the proper expression, and after a second or two she softly ‘aha’s’] idle fancy. One can’t help but wonder what goes through your head. [Her own head tilts in consideration, lips twitching —] It must be a mad house.

Oh, yes. [he grins] Madder than a box of cats. No- …not a box of cats, that doesn’t make sense… cats love boxes, it wouldn’t make them mad. [He purses his lips, taps his chin. Thoughtful.] Maybe if the sides of the box were laced with catnip…

[Aaaand now she’s rolling her eyes, oh and huffing.] I could be wrong, but I’m quite certain you’re over thinking that metaphor. [Romana gives in between his eyes a little flick.] Stop it. You’ll think yourself into a tizzy. [Okay, so maybe she just wanted to flick him between the eyes.]

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romanaofheartshaven:

bowtied replied your post Why on Gallifrey would I do that?

[awkward face] Why would they even /ask/ that question?

Your guess is as good as mine, Doctor. [She pauses, then says rather sheepishly.] Although the thought, has, admittedly, crossed my mind.

[eyebrow quirk] I don’t think I sleep often enough or long enough for you to spy in on me during that time. [And the places he tends to sleep are sporadically random, so finding him in that state is another matter entirely.]

[She arches an eyebrow in turn] It was merely a thought. I would never invade your privacy. It was just…  [Romana searches for the proper expression, and after a second or two she softly ‘aha’s’] idle fancy. One can’t help but wonder what goes through your head. [Her own head tilts in consideration, lips twitching —] It must be a mad house.