❝ Sometimes I tell myself I’m okay. I repeat it like a mantra. Because I’m afraid if I stop, even for a moment… ❞
― 𝖳𝖾𝗇.
― 𝖬𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾.
― 𝖬𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖫𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗒.
― 𝖲𝖫𝗌/𝖡𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋.
❝... I will drown in all the reasons I am not. ❞
@thedameofpowell –
Oh well. He can totally make the most of this, too, now that they are here and this is a perfectly normal, albeit unplanned stop. “It’s market day!”
— starter for @thedameofpowell ;
The doors to the blue box open, converse shoes landing in the wet grass, in what seems like an empty field, on a cold autumn’s day.
“Ahh!” He hisses regrettably, nose scrunching in light disappointment at the bitter wind that greets them. —
@thedameofpowell them like ghosts, because they are not quite in the same immediate space or network as them. As if they were uploaded onto another server.
“Rural France.” He mumbles, a bit sheepishly. In the middle of wet, empty fields. With cows mooing to their right.
“Nineteenth century.”–
—still with them, he’ll take it. And yet.. the thought alone is enough to instil a moment of doubt into his mind and he turns back to the doors, eyebrows raised, hands in his coat’s pockets.
“Are you coming?” Granted, it doesn’t look like much, but they’ve stopped for less, too.
��� “Okay.. so slightly off course.” He’ll admit that much. It isn’t too unusual, given how temperamental the TARDIS can get, and after what he had put her through in recent events, he’ll allow her this much. As long as they can go back to their usual adventures now, with Rose —
@HeelsAndCuffs – seem completely oblivious to the shortcomings of that domain, unlike many archeologists who would laugh and scoff at him, a time traveller, for correcting their misconceptions. She isn’t like that.
@HeelsAndCuffs The TARDIS arrived at its destination with a bang, followed by a typical silence. His curiosity never failed to peak whenever his ship finished landing somewhere new, the door beckoning him closer, as if daring him to resist whatever lay behind it. Sometimes, ––
@HeelsAndCuffs – Given how they… parted ways last time, he can at least assume her intentions aren’t wrong.
“Oh, I was just… passing by. Wondered what else archeology came up with that I could- comment on.” He clears his throat. “Why archeology, River?” It still bothers him. She doesn’t–