Oh and hello! Should have led with that. We need to catch up.
[ Another minute later. ]
This will be awkward if you don't remember me. Tell me you remember me. I'll really be quite cross otherwise! Although if you don't remember me you won't care if I'm cross probably but you should. Imagine a big permanent frowny face and a giant rain cloud following me about and bear that in mind when you answer. Lie to me if you have to.
[ Ah, but— ]
Really don't. Okay. I'm stopping now. Respond in the manner of your choosing. Morse code could be fun.
Y'know, I'm kind of impressed with the fucked-up request of wanting someone to lie to you cause the truth is something you don't want to handle.
Bravo on that avoidance tactic, and sorry for whoever among us has forgotten who you are, cause that would be pretty terrible. Personally I'm hoping people start remembering sooner than later cause this whole acting like they're strangers thing feels weird.
I don't know how to do morse code or yodeling or interpretive dance (other choices I considered) so you got plain text. I'm at the dock, contemplating the meaning of life. ;)
[ Because of course, it's not like he knows anything at all about lying or avoidance tactics. Certainly not. He will also carefully dodge talking about who's forgotten him; he's more concerned that it's happening at all. ]
Oh the meaning of life, I know all about that! There in a moment!
[ And when he does arrive, he's smiling—despite their circumstances—and rubs his hands together excitedly upon seeing her. And then he immediately launches into conversation, picking up the threads of where they left off. ]
Of course, many different approaches to the meaning of life, old as time itself. Religion, spirituality, scientific principles of the universe all coalescing— never a right or wrong really unless it's— [ He does finally stop himself. ]
And you were joking weren't you? We should revisit the interpretive dance, though, at some point. Could be precisely what we need in a perilous situation. [ A softer smile now as he tapers off. ] Yancai - a new adventure, more chances to help, sort out what's gone wrong with everyone's memories. And...I'm to gather worms, evidently.
( Red smirks at him as he starts to go into the details of the meaning of life - deep and vast and well, she's thought about it some given now she has had a life for the last couple of decades, but - It's still fun to hear all his theories about it all, because he's certainly been thinking about it longer. )
I was joking.
( But her smirk slips into a smile that's more fond. )
So yeah, tabling the interpretive dance for later. Cause there's shit to do here like finding worms. Vital. ( She's joking, making a face. ) ... and so's all the rest of it. You're always focused on helping, huh? ( Excited about it even. )
[ Of course she was joking. Absolutely. He totally, definitely, completely knew that. And he tosses a fond smirk her way in return. ]
It's what I do, what I've always done. Suppose I could be a... [ He pulls a face, a purposefully exaggerated face, halfway between a grimace and an expression like he's just eaten something sour. ] ...a blob of sorts. Sticky and rolly and a sickly grey color, an absolute mess of a blob. Lazing about, prattling on about absolute rubbish while everyone else is toiling towards a solution. Hah! Hardly. Not the sort. But you know that already.
[ He holds up his index finger then, for good measure. Or something. It's all part of the point he is, eventually, coming to. ]
I'd argue everyone here is focused on helping in one way or another. Some just take the long way 'round.
[ Retracting the index finger now in favor of clapping his hands together in a burst of energy. Not excitement, no, nothing like that, but an ease with the unknown that most certainly sets him apart from others and always has. ]
What assignment have they given you, and should we adopt codenames?
Yeaaah, really cannot visualize you as a blob of any kind. ( Red makes a face at the very attempt to visualize this. He is much too active, nonstop energy really for any of that. ) And I don't know about everyone, but we are all here in the same boat - so to speak.
( Some people only want to get back home, and she can't blame them even if she doesn't feel the same. Would she ever? But especially not there at the end - least she's got a better sense of herself now, better sense of her powers too. )
Codenames? Always. But as for my assignment, you're in luck - I've been given the prestigious assignment of soil collector for feeding and fostering good worms so. Seems like our assignments go hand-in-hand here.
( Cause this is obviously the most important part of all of what they're doing here... or something. ) We can always pretend to do our assignments and then fuck off to explore under the guise of worm/soil finding.
[ With his vivid and overactive imagination, he's now very briefly conjuring a visualization of a disembodied and rather unctuous blobby sort of creature; by turns, horrific and adorable. Such is his mind! ]
We are that. [ And he thinks well of everyone, even if they don't want to help so much as just get home. They have a right to it. ] At times, even literally in the same boat. Or train. Caravan. Dragon. I do wonder what other modes of transportation await us!
Now, codenames— are we thinking something complex and fantastical like...Wise Supernova or short and simple like Cobra? Give it some thought while we work.
[ Along with their Very Important Jobs, codenames are clearly essential, too! He wouldn't have it any other way. ]
Work, I mean. And then do what your not-to-be-repeated-by-me vernacular suggested and we shamble off to explore. Apart from the memories — unsettling as that is — time's gone wrong. They mentioned that, I know, but I feel it here, in a way I haven't before.
( Immediate worry swarms Red's chest as she reads these words - from nearly drowning to death to being choked by the tree to everything Red knows about Clara's life outside of this place - ) Clara, what the actual fuck. You were choked by a tree?
Are you okay? I mean I'm always of the opinion that trees are secretly dicks judging our lives while they stand there growing. But seriously. How's your neck? Jesus.
[ She didn't mean to make Red worry, and Clara feels guilty, trying to brush it off. So she made a tree angry, she lived! ]
I'm definitely okay, the Doctor was with me. He had scissors and we dug up a piece of the Huntress' heart, all in all, not the worst time we've spent together. I guess the trees didn't like what we were doing?
My neck looks like a mess but I promise, all I need is some kind of recreational fun.
Okay, I believe you. Glad you were with the Doctor, and I do have a bit of an idea of the kind of shit you two have seen on a regular basis so I can even believe you there. Just don't like to think about that shit happening to you.
As for recreational fun, I can always help with that. Anything you have in mind? I stole a bunch of alcohol from the train.
You read my mind. I know it wasn't that long ago we were together, but this place is really screwing with time.
I wanted to be sure you were okay and invite you to my fabulous seaside villa, now complete with a bonus view of the dead bobbing in the sea. I made cupcakes.
[ Even though Red is strong in ways that Clara can't even fathom, she still worries about her. Maybe it's silly, but she worries about everything inside of her and what this place might do to hurt her. ]
[ Clara's been looking for the Doctor, looking because she hasn't been able to find him. Granted, she hadn't looked very hard the first day, but now she's searching for him in earnest because it isn't like him to not check in on her like a mother hen. An over worried, overly fussy mother hen.
She never does find him. Instead, she finds his pocket watch lying down in the grass face up as if placed there, and she stares at it stupidly before picking it up, turning it over in her hand. She knows then, that he's gone, and so she goes back to the cave she's been sharing with Red and holds up the watch. ]
He's gone, Red.
[ Clara doesn't elaborate because there's no other he she'd be talking about. She thought he'd be there longer, she thought she'd get to tell him about this small piece of happiness she's found with Red, but she waited too long. ]
omg no ;o; i want all the threads with these two esp this one ๐ญ
( ooc: also sorry for the delay, i have been sick lately ;; )
( Red does not react at first. The words exist in the air between them, but they do not settle in her heart. They do not strike her - not really. They rattle around inside of her ribcage somewhere, and they do not- She doesn't process it even though it wasn't long ago she talked to the Doctor about being older than time, about understanding that there are certain inevitabilities.
And it's okay that no one can change them.
It's okay, and it's not on anyone to shoulder or to hold or to-
Even with that mature conversation she has recently had, she's not able to process this as quick as she should. ) What? But that's not- ( possible? no. right? no. fair? no. it's none of those things. that's not how the world works, and she knows it. Her eyes burn, because all at once the realization comes with the knowing. He's gone. He's dead. Even if another version of him shows up, he won't remember her, and what a stupid thing to get so angry about but it carves raw into her throat. She remains seated where she'd been before she pushes herself up slow, steps closer to Clara and sees the reality of it in her expression. )
Oh. ( a breath out like being hit in the gut. ) He's gone.
[ It's Red's reaction that pushes Clara over the edge to tears; she's done pretty well so far, but she can't hide, here. He's really gone, not just gone. He's stardust, that version of him, and all she can do is nod. The tears fall silently as she reaches out for Red with one hand and shows her the pocket watch in the other. ]
This was his. And my messages to him are just...
[ She shrugs. They won't send, that's what happens, she's been told. ]
( Red's expression crumples briefly especially when she sees Clara's tears, and her next breath is shaky even as she nods in answer to the pocket watch. Words are failing her. Isn't there those stages of grief? Anger then bargaining then all the rest...
There's just a hollow acceptance instead of all those other steps. There's just this knowing even if part of her wants to rail against it, tear something apart.
She steps forward and wraps both of her arms around Clara to pull her in close. Screw their home for taking them away. Screw it to fucking hell, she thinks, but doesn't say. Words aren't coming, and words won't change anything. )
[ The Doctor cared about Red so much, and Clara wants to make sure she knows it. But for now, her hold is tight and as comforting as she can make it, while taking that same comfort. She can't imagine how what this would be like to process without her there.
When she manages to finally pull back, it's only to drop her lips to the top of Red's shoulder softly, breathing her in. ]
( Red doesn't know why there's that burst of fire in her chest, of that anger-stage still wanting to rail against it. He was always very good at showing it so she knows that's true, and she loves Clara finds it's important to point that out even in the middle of all her own pain and grief.
She lifts her hand, cradling the side of Clara's hair, slipping fingers through the dark strands of her hair. )
He really loved you. ( It's whispered against the top of her head in some cracked, pained voice. ) And I'm so sorry you have to lose him again. ( She's already lost so much. It's not fair, resounding through her - her fingertips dig into Clara's side with a protectiveness like she can possibly stop any further loss from occurring. She can't. )
[ Clara wasn't with Red this time when she left and returned. This time, she has to deal with the fallout of her re-arrival alone, which means she has to sit with everything that happened and decide how to tell Red. Because she has to tell her, she can't let her see it first. As soon as they see one another, the metaphorical cat will be out of the bag, and Clara can't do that to her. So, after a couple of hours, she finds a room and sits down, grabbing her device. ]
You'll never guess on a scale from 'the beacons worked for a second' to 'we're stuck here forever' what just happened to me.
( Clara's voice sounds... normal, casual even, but something hard like a stone falls in Red's stomach, to the pit of it at those words nonetheless. Gods, she knew she should have attached herself to Clara as soon as the beacon started being talked about at all. They're so fucking unpredictable. There's this delayed kind of panic in her heart, because Clara could have been gone for good, and-
She's already moving to try to find her in person, to see that she's still here for herself when she answers. )
[ It was easy, to start. Always start with a joke when it's going to get bad. There's a few seconds worth of a delay before she replies, and there's a marked difference, a huskiness to her voice that wasn't there a moment ago. ]
Yeah, so that was a couple years for me. [ She clears her throat and wets her lips, trying to bring back an even tone. ]
Just like last time, barely a blip here, I think. Red, something happened. I—fuck. [ Not crying is harder than she thought it would be. She thought doing it this way would make it easier and she was completely wrong. ] Listen, before that, I need to say this. I love you for making me feel like me again. You've made this place better than it has a right to be, and if I'd left and not come back, I would've never told you that.
( The more she talks, the more it's clear that something really bad happened. Two years. So much can happen in two years especially with the kind of life Clara leads - out between time and space and planets. She's already lost so much, sacrificed so much. Red can't begin to imagine what might have happened in those two years, but it scares her.
The way Clara is talking now scares her.
Her words are beautiful, but they sound like goodbye. She's come back though. She's come back, Red reminds herself. )
You don't- ( Her voice cuts off on emotion clogged in her throat. Her fingertips press into the palms of her own hand. )
Where are you? Please. I'm already on my way, but it's faster if you tell me.
[ It's desperate and she knows there's probably no secret anymore. She can't drag it out, it's too much, and it already hurts enough. ]
There was a young dad with an infant, he was gonna die. I couldn't let him. I couldn't.
[ It's out, she hasn't walked into a room and sucked the air out of it because she caught Red by surprise. Was this better? She doesn't know, but it's done now. So, with shaking fingers, she sends her location in the south wing of the castle. ]
( Red stops - she wholly and fully stops at the please. It sounds desperate enough, and there's little Clara could ever ask of her that she wouldn't at least try to do. No matter how much of her feels like it's burning to get near her, to not wait, to-
Her hand presses to her abdomen. Her eyes burn. She understands, but she doesn't at the same time. Can't.. She can't wrap her mind around what Clara is trying to say, because she doesn't want it. The universe is going to keep hurting beautiful, wonderful people like Clara, and she hates it so godsdamn much.
Clara couldn't let him. So she took his place-
Fuck the man. Fuck all of it. She doesn't say any of it though. She can't actually find the words at all, but only follows where Clara's sent her. She stops in the doorway, sucks her breath in sharp at the sudden abrupt changes as her eyes burn at that realization in person (no heart beat, no breathing, no, no, no), but she swallows it all down to some other part of herself as she starts to move closer. )
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text | un: dollhouse (mid-afternoon-ish day 1)
[ A few minutes later. ]
Oh and hello! Should have led with that. We need to catch up.
[ Another minute later. ]
This will be awkward if you don't remember me. Tell me you remember me. I'll really be quite cross otherwise! Although if you don't remember me you won't care if I'm cross probably but you should. Imagine a big permanent frowny face and a giant rain cloud following me about and bear that in mind when you answer. Lie to me if you have to.
[ Ah, but— ]
Really don't. Okay. I'm stopping now. Respond in the manner of your choosing. Morse code could be fun.
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Bravo on that avoidance tactic, and sorry for whoever among us has forgotten who you are, cause that would be pretty terrible. Personally I'm hoping people start remembering sooner than later cause this whole acting like they're strangers thing feels weird.
I don't know how to do morse code or yodeling or interpretive dance (other choices I considered) so you got plain text. I'm at the dock, contemplating the meaning of life. ;)
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[ Because of course, it's not like he knows anything at all about lying or avoidance tactics. Certainly not. He will also carefully dodge talking about who's forgotten him; he's more concerned that it's happening at all. ]
Oh the meaning of life, I know all about that! There in a moment!
[ And when he does arrive, he's smiling—despite their circumstances—and rubs his hands together excitedly upon seeing her. And then he immediately launches into conversation, picking up the threads of where they left off. ]
Of course, many different approaches to the meaning of life, old as time itself. Religion, spirituality, scientific principles of the universe all coalescing— never a right or wrong really unless it's— [ He does finally stop himself. ]
And you were joking weren't you? We should revisit the interpretive dance, though, at some point. Could be precisely what we need in a perilous situation. [ A softer smile now as he tapers off. ] Yancai - a new adventure, more chances to help, sort out what's gone wrong with everyone's memories. And...I'm to gather worms, evidently.
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I was joking.
( But her smirk slips into a smile that's more fond. )
So yeah, tabling the interpretive dance for later. Cause there's shit to do here like finding worms. Vital. ( She's joking, making a face. ) ... and so's all the rest of it. You're always focused on helping, huh? ( Excited about it even. )
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It's what I do, what I've always done. Suppose I could be a... [ He pulls a face, a purposefully exaggerated face, halfway between a grimace and an expression like he's just eaten something sour. ] ...a blob of sorts. Sticky and rolly and a sickly grey color, an absolute mess of a blob. Lazing about, prattling on about absolute rubbish while everyone else is toiling towards a solution. Hah! Hardly. Not the sort. But you know that already.
[ He holds up his index finger then, for good measure. Or something. It's all part of the point he is, eventually, coming to. ]
I'd argue everyone here is focused on helping in one way or another. Some just take the long way 'round.
[ Retracting the index finger now in favor of clapping his hands together in a burst of energy. Not excitement, no, nothing like that, but an ease with the unknown that most certainly sets him apart from others and always has. ]
What assignment have they given you, and should we adopt codenames?
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( Some people only want to get back home, and she can't blame them even if she doesn't feel the same. Would she ever? But especially not there at the end - least she's got a better sense of herself now, better sense of her powers too. )
Codenames? Always. But as for my assignment, you're in luck - I've been given the prestigious assignment of soil collector for feeding and fostering good worms so. Seems like our assignments go hand-in-hand here.
( Cause this is obviously the most important part of all of what they're doing here... or something. ) We can always pretend to do our assignments and then fuck off to explore under the guise of worm/soil finding.
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We are that. [ And he thinks well of everyone, even if they don't want to help so much as just get home. They have a right to it. ] At times, even literally in the same boat. Or train. Caravan. Dragon. I do wonder what other modes of transportation await us!
Now, codenames— are we thinking something complex and fantastical like...Wise Supernova or short and simple like Cobra? Give it some thought while we work.
[ Along with their Very Important Jobs, codenames are clearly essential, too! He wouldn't have it any other way. ]
Work, I mean. And then do what your not-to-be-repeated-by-me vernacular suggested and we shamble off to explore. Apart from the memories — unsettling as that is — time's gone wrong. They mentioned that, I know, but I feel it here, in a way I haven't before.
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text | un: hide-and-seek (late, like dumb late, end of day 1)
This is your friendly warning that the trees are dicks.
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Are you okay? I mean I'm always of the opinion that trees are secretly dicks judging our lives while they stand there growing. But seriously. How's your neck? Jesus.
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I'm definitely okay, the Doctor was with me. He had scissors and we dug up a piece of the Huntress' heart, all in all, not the worst time we've spent together. I guess the trees didn't like what we were doing?
My neck looks like a mess but I promise, all I need is some kind of recreational fun.
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As for recreational fun, I can always help with that. Anything you have in mind? I stole a bunch of alcohol from the train.
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I wanted to be sure you were okay and invite you to my fabulous seaside villa, now complete with a bonus view of the dead bobbing in the sea. I made cupcakes.
[ Even though Red is strong in ways that Clara can't even fathom, she still worries about her. Maybe it's silly, but she worries about everything inside of her and what this place might do to hurt her. ]
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( Seriously though. Being both incredibly beautiful and a baker of cupcakes is like a double skill attack there, Clara. Red is entirely vulnerable. )
Let me gather up the alcohol and I'll be over following that incredibly kind invitation. How could I say no?
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Well that hurt /wheezes
everything's fine ;o;
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forgive me if they already talked about this!! I really should track threads
they have not!! ;o;
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๐
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A few days after arriving in Unkharil (not to bombard you ๐ญ this can be short if needed!))
She never does find him. Instead, she finds his pocket watch lying down in the grass face up as if placed there, and she stares at it stupidly before picking it up, turning it over in her hand. She knows then, that he's gone, and so she goes back to the cave she's been sharing with Red and holds up the watch. ]
He's gone, Red.
[ Clara doesn't elaborate because there's no other he she'd be talking about. She thought he'd be there longer, she thought she'd get to tell him about this small piece of happiness she's found with Red, but she waited too long. ]
omg no ;o; i want all the threads with these two esp this one ๐ญ
( Red does not react at first. The words exist in the air between them, but they do not settle in her heart. They do not strike her - not really. They rattle around inside of her ribcage somewhere, and they do not- She doesn't process it even though it wasn't long ago she talked to the Doctor about being older than time, about understanding that there are certain inevitabilities.
And it's okay that no one can change them.
It's okay, and it's not on anyone to shoulder or to hold or to-
Even with that mature conversation she has recently had, she's not able to process this as quick as she should. ) What? But that's not- ( possible? no. right? no. fair? no. it's none of those things. that's not how the world works, and she knows it. Her eyes burn, because all at once the realization comes with the knowing. He's gone. He's dead. Even if another version of him shows up, he won't remember her, and what a stupid thing to get so angry about but it carves raw into her throat. She remains seated where she'd been before she pushes herself up slow, steps closer to Clara and sees the reality of it in her expression. )
Oh. ( a breath out like being hit in the gut. ) He's gone.
oh no, i really hope you feel better soon โค๏ธ
This was his. And my messages to him are just...
[ She shrugs. They won't send, that's what happens, she's been told. ]
I guess we both went home.
i do!! thank you ;o;
There's just a hollow acceptance instead of all those other steps. There's just this knowing even if part of her wants to rail against it, tear something apart.
She steps forward and wraps both of her arms around Clara to pull her in close. Screw their home for taking them away. Screw it to fucking hell, she thinks, but doesn't say. Words aren't coming, and words won't change anything. )
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When she manages to finally pull back, it's only to drop her lips to the top of Red's shoulder softly, breathing her in. ]
He really loved you, Red. He was proud of you.
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She lifts her hand, cradling the side of Clara's hair, slipping fingers through the dark strands of her hair. )
He really loved you. ( It's whispered against the top of her head in some cracked, pained voice. ) And I'm so sorry you have to lose him again. ( She's already lost so much. It's not fair, resounding through her - her fingertips dig into Clara's side with a protectiveness like she can possibly stop any further loss from occurring. She can't. )
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holy shit i'm taking over your inbox lmao i'm sorry we can always move this!| audio
You'll never guess on a scale from 'the beacons worked for a second' to 'we're stuck here forever' what just happened to me.
[ Again. ]
nooo, i love it ๐ and i'm ready for pain
She's already moving to try to find her in person, to see that she's still here for herself when she answers. )
You went back?
buckle ya seatbelt
Yeah, so that was a couple years for me. [ She clears her throat and wets her lips, trying to bring back an even tone. ]
Just like last time, barely a blip here, I think. Red, something happened. I—fuck. [ Not crying is harder than she thought it would be. She thought doing it this way would make it easier and she was completely wrong. ] Listen, before that, I need to say this. I love you for making me feel like me again. You've made this place better than it has a right to be, and if I'd left and not come back, I would've never told you that.
/buckles up ;o;;;;
The way Clara is talking now scares her.
Her words are beautiful, but they sound like goodbye. She's come back though. She's come back, Red reminds herself. )
You don't- ( Her voice cuts off on emotion clogged in her throat. Her fingertips press into the palms of her own hand. )
Where are you? Please. I'm already on my way, but it's faster if you tell me.
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[ It's desperate and she knows there's probably no secret anymore. She can't drag it out, it's too much, and it already hurts enough. ]
There was a young dad with an infant, he was gonna die. I couldn't let him. I couldn't.
[ It's out, she hasn't walked into a room and sucked the air out of it because she caught Red by surprise. Was this better? She doesn't know, but it's done now. So, with shaking fingers, she sends her location in the south wing of the castle. ]
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Her hand presses to her abdomen. Her eyes burn. She understands, but she doesn't at the same time. Can't.. She can't wrap her mind around what Clara is trying to say, because she doesn't want it. The universe is going to keep hurting beautiful, wonderful people like Clara, and she hates it so godsdamn much.
Clara couldn't let him. So she took his place-
Fuck the man. Fuck all of it. She doesn't say any of it though. She can't actually find the words at all, but only follows where Clara's sent her. She stops in the doorway, sucks her breath in sharp at the sudden abrupt changes as her eyes burn at that realization in person (no heart beat, no breathing, no, no, no), but she swallows it all down to some other part of herself as she starts to move closer. )
You took his place, or-
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