The Time Lord, the Wizard, and the Wardrobe
@huffleprincenewt
The universe tends to throw some interesting curve balls at you whenever she pleases, and she seemed to find just the right trajectory to hit the Doctor every time. So, with nothing but all his masses of bad luck, the Doctor found himself dropped in the middle of London sometime in the early... 1900s, he assumed, by the taste of the air. And he was stuck there for a while, until he could let the poor TARDIS recharge a bit of her energy.
As such, this found the Doctor roaming the streets aimlessly, observing, as he did nowadays, and trying so very hard to blend in and not set anything aflame (one time he’d done it and now he was labeled some sort of arsonist?).
Walking the streets of London now, hands shoved deeply into the endless pockets of his trench, he bumped shoulders with another man and turned, nodding his apology. “So sorry about tha’,” he murmured, reaching up with his left hand, across his chest, to tug at his right ear. “I wasn’t watching much where I was going, now was I? Oh!” His eyes lit up. “That is a nice coat!”