Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28920015-20170210012130/@comment-26977364-20170211073533

The Heavy, a lumbering bald Russian clutching a large gun-mettle black Minigun, and the Medic, a thin, tall German with glasses and a strange backpack-like contraption stumbled out of a portal, toppling onto the dusty ground. They picked themselves up and dusted themselves off.

"Gah!" The Medic exclaimed in frustration, "Zat is ze last time I let ze Engineer steal equipment from ze government!"

"Do not worry, Doctor." The Heavy said in his thick, accented English, "We have travelled, now let us kill babies!"

"I told you, Mikhail, ve are not here to kill! Ve are here to study." The Medic looked forlornly at his Uber Saw tucked at his belt, hidden by his lab coat, "Much to my disappointment. Come along, zen."

- - -

The air was cut by a rough, coarse sound that seemingly appeared from nowhere. This was a sound reknown across the universe for being either the saviour or the demon of their world. A blue telephone box phased in and out of reality, slipping out of the time vortex and landing here. The groaning and wind ceased, and an old, aged man dressed in a midnight-blue frock coat and hoodie stepped out, his checkered trousers rustling in the wind. He wore a pair of Raybans on his face, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Where have I landed this time?"