dollyrose09 replied to your post “canadican replied to your post “I was tagged by dryadalis. Six random…”
Happy birthday hun! :)
lyricalprose replied to your post “I was tagged by dryadalis. Six random facts: Today’s my birthday,…”
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! :D :D :D I shall have to whip up some random facts now, haha. I hope your day has been just the loveliest. :)
Danke, lovelies! It really has been. I have been lazy as hell, and it’s great.
He’s sure they think he’s crazy; the flighty Lungbarrow heir who took his family’s charity work a bit too far when he started adopting the orphans he’d performed surgery on.
(He’s also sure they’re right, but he doesn’t think about that.)
(He’s never been quite sure who they are, though.)
But as much as he loves to take his passel of kids with him as he travels around the world, it’s getting a bit much for him to handle on his own.
There’s a knock at his office door, and when he calls out a welcome a young woman steps in, her smile shy but her handshake confident. “Dr. Foreman? My name’s Rose Tyler, the agency sent me.”
Oh. Oh, dear. Falling for the nanny, they’re just going to love that.
(He’s never really cared what they think.)
It was supposed to be a nice day at the beach, one that would help ease the half-frightened look from her eyes whenever she looked back and couldn’t see him. He should have known, really. Bloody beaches. He was doomed from the start.
Rose curled closer to him, her hands tightening on his jacket as she muttered something in her sleep. He shifted her further away from the entrance of the cave, eyes locked on the lethal Threadfall outside.
He blinked and looked down into Rose’s bleary eyes. “Yes?”
"Good." His eyebrows drew together, but she just turned into his chest and went back to sleep.
Well. Arms full of a warm, sleeping Rose Tyler…
There have been worse ways for him to spend his time.
canadican replied to your post “I was tagged by dryadalis. Six random facts: Today’s my birthday,…”
Happy birthday, lovely one. :}
abadplanwellexecuted replied to your post “I was tagged by dryadalis. Six random facts: Today’s my birthday,…”
Happy Birthday!!!! <3 <3 <3!!!
1. If Jenny concentrates hard enough, she can see the timelines stretching out around her. It’s taken a long time and a lot of patience, which has never been her strong suit, but traveling around the galaxy without “disappearing here and reappearing there” has given her more time to practice than she’d ever anticipated.
This woman, though, this woman with her caramel curls and her wary eyes, is unlike anyone she’s ever seen. The timelines shimmer around her, gilding her skin in possibilities.
"Oh, you’re beautiful.”
2. You stop being surprised, when you’re called in to clean up the wreckage of people’s lives. They don’t thank you for it, an’ why should they? The storm’s taken everything from them, everything, and you’re here to rub it in their faces. It stops meaning anything to you, the torn-off limbs of a stuffed bear, the shattered picture frames. Just another wreck. (You try to ignore how familiar it is, how your family’s faces ghost over the strangers’ in those photographs.)
It’s just another job. Until you see a young woman, barely more than a girl, a stained bandage wrapped around her arm as she digs through the storm-flattened houses around you.
"Oi, you. Don’t think you’re s’posed to be in here."
She looks up, and her eyes are startlingly large, a warm hazel that you notice more than you should. “Yeah, well, don’t really have anywhere else to be, if you’d notice.”
Years ago, you would have winced at that. Today, you scowl at her. “‘S not safe in here, not for the likes of you.”
"Some things are more important."
Your scowl doesn’t phase her, which is a novel sensation. Normally you’re left on your own on jobs like this, with none of the camaraderie of the other groups. (It’s far easier to sneer at their naivete than to play nice.)
After a half an hour in the frigid breeze, she straightens. You’re sure she’ll have a stuffed animal, a broken doll, some memento of a childhood she’s barely left behind… but she doesn’t.
She’s carrying a small wooden urn, its top cracked but whole. Your eyes meet hers without your consent, and she smiles at you. Her eyes are red, and you’re suddenly caught by what she would look like if she smiled at you and meantit.
And she’s carrying a bloody urn. Your co-workers have called you heartless before, but this surprises even you. You turn back to your work, and her scrambling retreat fades into the distance.
Still, when you’re leaving that evening and you see her sitting next to a woman who must be her mother, it’s easy for you to pull off your leather jacket and drop it over her shoulders.
It’s just a jacket, after all. Some things are more important.
3. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
"Oh, like you wouldn’t. People will play loads of money for this."
"You’re not s’posed to interfere, Mum! The whole world could end, and for what? For a bloody toupee!"
"Listen to you, you’re gettin’ just as snooty as Himself over there. He’s not gonna miss it, I saw that closet. He’s got loads of ‘em in there."
"Don’t bring me into this, Jackie, this is entirely between you two."
"As if, Doctor! She just stole Elvis’ wig!"
"Well…… he does have rather a lot of them."
"But don’t think I’m okay with it! Rose, where are you going? Rose?"
"Think you’ll be sleepin’ on the couch tonight, you plum. If you’ve even got a couch in here."
Ode to Apollo 11 and the joy of discovery
If you’ve seen the teaser trailer for Interstellar, its damn near impossible to NOT read this in Matthew McConaughey’s voice/accent. lolz.
I was tagged by dryadalis.
Six random facts:
1) Give me a pairing.
2) Give me an AU setting.
3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.