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After the latest universe destroying sandbox inevitably gets erased, there are effects all across reality. Sometimes they're miniscule, others end planets. Either way, everything has an end destination and that’s where everyone here is, having been brought in by one mean or another.
The world around was just wrong, simply put. It was made to look like A waiting room, but someone had failed in the process. The walls are painted a strangely bright shade of orange, the wooden floor pitch black to offset it. There are chairs, but none made with humans in mind; their either too tall, misshaped, or just piles of wood. There’s a magazine rack with no words and Strange pictures Inside them. There’s a desk with a scarecrow at it, posed to look at the computer in front of it.
“The universe Doctor will be in shortly” says a note on the door out.
The world around was just wrong, simply put. It was made to look like A waiting room, but someone had failed in the process. The walls are painted a strangely bright shade of orange, the wooden floor pitch black to offset it. There are chairs, but none made with humans in mind; their either too tall, misshaped, or just piles of wood. There’s a magazine rack with no words and Strange pictures Inside them. There’s a desk with a scarecrow at it, posed to look at the computer in front of it.
“The universe Doctor will be in shortly” says a note on the door out.
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