Everything. Everything is always the same in this place. The baker, the bread, the books, the flowers, the people... everything.Walking through a field, Belle came around something different. Nothing was different. Everything seemed to be set in stone. Had she found her adventure in the great wide somewhere?
She did indeed.
She stepped closer to the new...something. She looked up, examining the blue box that stood in front of her now.
Belle pondeered what could have been inside, "When did this-"
She was cut off by the doors opening in front of her, a man standing face-to-face with her.
"Hello!" He grinned, "I'm the Doctor! Now, you you could be a dear and tell me where I am, and the year, that would be magnificent!"
"You're...You're in France. In the year seventeen hundred and fifty-two."
"Oh, lovely. Right where I wanted to be!"
"Who are you? A doctor of what? Doctor who?"
"Exactly! Now, how would you like to get away from here?"
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