In the grand scheme of things, Freudenthaliante was a smooth talking creature put in this universe specifically for the sheer fun of it and how utterly amusing whatever great creator out there would find it. Apparently, Denny was an amusing guy and had gained favor because. . . Well, he was actually on a planet that wasn't Gallifrey.

Feel that underfoot? That's actual land. The stuff that is making you suddenly aware of that tiny baldspot just beyond the ear is actual breezes. Nothing had felt so wonderful as a breeze at that moment. Even in the current weather-partly cloud with a very very heavy chance of sprinkling rain-Denny was absolutely pleased about where he was.

London was quite a ways away from whereever in the world his TARDIS was. In fact, it was the very definition of 'far.' He hardly even felt the slightest awareness of it when he had hitched a ride to Earth under the excuse of 'examining architecture and art to improve the appearance of our future home.' All he felt was . . . a sense of freedom tinged with a taste of duty. Damn it. He would actually have to look at things for business reasons. Well, at least it was all very . . . architecturally sound. . . Yes, that would excuse the fact that the only thing Denny was really looking at was how new everything was.

He began to wander, taking photographs for later examination when sketching out the building plans (if he were to draw influence from this at all, which he doubted. However pretty they were, it didn't seem to fit what he felt was appropriate.) He did, however, like the big circle thing. That would've been rather interesting if it were apart from the gray background the sky was giving.

It was very tourist of him, he knew. The locals were looking at him oddly, Den had noticed. Yes, definitely tourist-y. He wondered if it looked the same at night. Or at sunset. He figured it did for the second bit, considering the fact that the sky was so cloudy that he didn't quite know if someone could see the sun. Was it always like that?

In a moment of realization that he had yet to look at the ground, he did and froze. A coin! How delightful. He picked it up and stood still, causing a bit of an outcry from whoever was behind him, but it was all well and good. Minted 2018.

Wait. 2018? No, no, it was. . Denny had to think a moment. His fellow traveler had said 2011, maybe 2012 if the dates got funky and gunky. He examined the scene. People smoking, people walking, people wandering. . . They had a different look. No real purpose. He recognized it well. The wanderers were the fun ones. . . But first, to check the date.

"Excuse me," he said, approaching a man who honestly appeared to be one of the said wanderers, purposeless and possibly eager to be informative. The best types. "Could you inform me of the current date, please?"

( Yay for sinking into character!)