Beware the Ayslish Paparazzi!

We step out of the TARDIS... and right into a large crowd of people.

"Erm," says the Doctor ruefully as the crowd presses towards us. "Perhaps we might have picked somewhere a bit more inconspicuous to land."

An excited murmuring has started up in the crowd. "It is him! It's really him!" comes from all sides of us. "Mr. Pertwee, can I have your autograph?" someone calls.

"Great," I mutter. "You're a frelling celebrity!" (And I've been hanging around with the Farscape people long enough that I'm starting to swear like them, I notice with some amusement.)

I suppose I really shouldn't be too surprised. London, after all, is a Core Earth hardpoint -- or was, before the laws of reality changed in this universe -- so it's not too surprising if there are still Core Earthers in England who have fond memories of watching Doctor Who. Come to that, even the folks who were transformed to Ayslish reality when the bridge came down are likely to have vague memories of it, themselves, even if they might now have trouble remembering exactly what that "television" thing they watched it on was.

All in all, I muse, the wonder is that we don't meet this reaction more often...

Inquirer begins to back into the TARDIS, even as Sigin and Chiana are starting to emerge behind her. "Maybe I'll just go and reset the cooridnates..." she says.

But at this point, the noises from the crowd alter, and they begin to part. I can see a man coming towards us: richly dressed in the medieval style that is common here.

The crowd flows back around him, but keeps a respectful distance as he approaches us. "I am a respresentative of the Court of Lady Ardinay," he announces. "You have been expected. Please come with me."

Expected? Ah, I suppose the PCs must have sent word ahead of us.

"Excellent!" says the Doctor. He gestures ahead of us with a flourish. "Lead on!"

The crowd of onlookers seems disappointed, but lets us pass. One teenage boy in Core Earth clothing rushes forwards, though, and waves a bit of parchment at the Doctor. "Autograph?" he says breathlessly. "Please?" Our court escort scowls at the boy, but the Doctor smiles and scrawls a couple of symbols on the paper in what I believe is Old High Gallifreyan.

1. And we are escorted forth to the court of Pella Ardinay...

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