"We'll have to try and make it happen again, then - oh, we're here, right."
They're in a part of the TARDIS that's different to his own. It was the same up until a few corners back, so he roughly knows in which part of the ship they are, but if they were on his TARDIS, they'd be standing on the observation deck right now, facing the huge transparent "window" wall that gives a view of the outside of the TARDIS.
In this TARDIS, they're standing in front of a door, which is taking quite long to respond to his other's attempts to open it. The Doctor frowns; it looks like a simple isomorphic lock - which is good, that means he'll be able to get in and out easily enough without them having to recalibrate anything - but it seems to be not quite in 100% working order. He knows how it is, though, he's got quite a few technical bits in the TARDIS that would need some fixing up, which he never seems to get around to. Finally, though, the door does open, and the Doctor's pleasently surprised.
"Oh, you've rebuilt it!" It's one of the things he always wanted to do but for some reason never did - rebuilding the Zero Room. It really is the best place for a laboratory; its close approximation to a closed system makes it perfect for conducting experiments - even though this can also sometimes render the experiments rather theoretical. His own lab is situated in a big Victorian ball room - not because he's got so much equipment; he's pretty sure there's more crammed into this room, but because he has a habit of knocking things over if he doesn't have enough space at his workplace.
Space is the one thing of which this room doesn't have a lot. The Doctor edges around a table into the room, pulling his glasses from his pocket as he does so, and starts to examine the equipment and lab utensils. A lot of this, he realizes, was probably brought here from the infirmary; mostly diagnostic devices the Doctor recognizes as standard TARDIS medical equipment. Some of the stuff he recognizes as medical or scientific devices from all sorts of different planets - from Earth (there's what seems to be a modified EEG reader on a table in one corner), but from other planets as well, most of them home to a humanoid species - except there's also an ESP meter from Laguanate, a planet whose inhabitants exist as incorporeal wisps of energy. And some of the stuff he doesn't recognize at all, or he recognizes it only in parts.
He picks his way through the lab, running his fingers over some of the equipment here and there but not picking anything up. Despite the vastness of instruments on display, this whole lab does seem meant for one purpose only: the study of a living, sentient metabolism. Any medical researcher would have a field day in here, while a nuclear physicist might find their resources somewhat limited. Be that as it may, it's a pretty awesome lab.
"This is really quite impressive, I have to say." He stands in the middle of the room, in one of the narrow spaces between the tables and workbenches, and does a 360 degree turn to take it all in. He gestures at the shelves bending under the weight of the folders and lab journals. "Your notes, I take it?"
no subject
They're in a part of the TARDIS that's different to his own. It was the same up until a few corners back, so he roughly knows in which part of the ship they are, but if they were on his TARDIS, they'd be standing on the observation deck right now, facing the huge transparent "window" wall that gives a view of the outside of the TARDIS.
In this TARDIS, they're standing in front of a door, which is taking quite long to respond to his other's attempts to open it. The Doctor frowns; it looks like a simple isomorphic lock - which is good, that means he'll be able to get in and out easily enough without them having to recalibrate anything - but it seems to be not quite in 100% working order. He knows how it is, though, he's got quite a few technical bits in the TARDIS that would need some fixing up, which he never seems to get around to. Finally, though, the door does open, and the Doctor's pleasently surprised.
"Oh, you've rebuilt it!" It's one of the things he always wanted to do but for some reason never did - rebuilding the Zero Room. It really is the best place for a laboratory; its close approximation to a closed system makes it perfect for conducting experiments - even though this can also sometimes render the experiments rather theoretical. His own lab is situated in a big Victorian ball room - not because he's got so much equipment; he's pretty sure there's more crammed into this room, but because he has a habit of knocking things over if he doesn't have enough space at his workplace.
Space is the one thing of which this room doesn't have a lot. The Doctor edges around a table into the room, pulling his glasses from his pocket as he does so, and starts to examine the equipment and lab utensils. A lot of this, he realizes, was probably brought here from the infirmary; mostly diagnostic devices the Doctor recognizes as standard TARDIS medical equipment. Some of the stuff he recognizes as medical or scientific devices from all sorts of different planets - from Earth (there's what seems to be a modified EEG reader on a table in one corner), but from other planets as well, most of them home to a humanoid species - except there's also an ESP meter from Laguanate, a planet whose inhabitants exist as incorporeal wisps of energy. And some of the stuff he doesn't recognize at all, or he recognizes it only in parts.
He picks his way through the lab, running his fingers over some of the equipment here and there but not picking anything up. Despite the vastness of instruments on display, this whole lab does seem meant for one purpose only: the study of a living, sentient metabolism. Any medical researcher would have a field day in here, while a nuclear physicist might find their resources somewhat limited. Be that as it may, it's a pretty awesome lab.
"This is really quite impressive, I have to say." He stands in the middle of the room, in one of the narrow spaces between the tables and workbenches, and does a 360 degree turn to take it all in. He gestures at the shelves bending under the weight of the folders and lab journals. "Your notes, I take it?"