bossily: (clara341)
Clara Oswald ([personal profile] bossily) wrote in [community profile] ximilialog2022-02-13 07:07 pm

[open] it's okay to be afraid

CHARACTERS: Clara Oswald & OPEN
LOCATION: Around the station
DATE: Mid February
CONTENT: General open catchall
WARNINGS: will update as needed



General Pacing;
[The first thing Clara does after coming back from the mission is the same thing she always does. Check in on the people she cares about. Those check ins quickly lead to Clara realizing something that is absolutely devastating. The Doctor isn't here any longer. Or rather, one of him is still around, but the younger of the two is vanished without a trace. She tries to recall the fact the same thing had happened to her months ago, but it's hard to remain calm when her thoughts are racing and all of her worst fears are coming true.

The Doctor is gone, so soon after getting injured on the mission. And she hadn't gotten to say goodbye. She's not ready for this. Not yet. It doesn't matter if she's already lived through his loss once. She isn't ready to do it again. Not until she says it's time.

Her lack of control over everything here spirals out of control, and for the next day she'll be found wandering the corridors of the station in an anxious, frantic state. She doesn't eat, doesn't go shower or get changed. She simply frets and works herself up into a state that has her ready to break into the North Wing so she can go yell at the orb and demand the Doctor's return.
]


Simulation Room;
[It's well past the point where any rational person would be sleeping, especially given the physical strain their bodies all have recently gone through. Clara can't sleep with how many thoughts are currently storming their way around her head. So she takes to the simulation room and finds her way back to the planet where her adventures began.

She sits out at the edge of one of the rocky surface, legs dangling over the edge as she watches the old god off in the distance. Her head's tipped to the side as she regards it, hand clutching hold of a giant maple leaf. She's vaguely aware that someone's come to join her, and she doesn't glance their way before speaking.
]

Do you really think it's possible that our regrets can be undone?


Infirmary;
[She has friends in the infirmary. People who were injured on the mission, and those that seem to never leave the sides of people who are currently on bedrest there. So she's in and out of the area frequently, bringing deliveries of tea and offers of company. Most of the time she's reading from one of her books, pleased to share her love of literature with them.

But for those that are standing watch over others she often arrives with a snack and coffee on a tray. She's ready to lecture them on taking care of themselves, knowing she hasn't slept in days and could use the lecture herself.
]


Mess Hall;
[Clara sits for hours at a table after preparing tea in a little mug. She doesn't drink it, she just cradles the mug in both hands and stares down. Her mind is starting to slow down from sheer exhaustion, but she stubbornly refuses to give in. So she starts to doze off, head dropping downward each time she does. But instead of just letting herself sleep, she keeps snapping awake, clutching hold of the mug tighter. Each time, she only starts to nod off moments later.

Eventually, she does fall asleep, draped across the table. The mug of tea is still in one of her hands.
]

Sunlight Room;
[Her hydroponic garden has become her baby. She's grateful for the distraction that it offers her, and the hard physical labor that it provides. It helps keep her mind clear enough to focus on what needs to be done, on pruning and ensuring water supplies are kept level and things are growing properly. There's also the matter of harvesting what's now ready to be picked, something that she's all too pleased to grab the nearest person and drag them over to help with.]

These have a date with the jars I've asked for.

[She explains, holding a small basket of what looks to be strawberries and blueberries.]

You don't mind lending a hand in the kitchens next, do you?


[ooc: Closed prompts to follow in the comments. If you're interested in a closed start, hit me up at [plurk.com profile] trashpanda. Also open to Wildcard options, if you'd like to do something else!]


kovach: (■ 298)

[personal profile] kovach 2022-02-19 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ everything he's done has been to save her life in more ways than one. because he knows first hand now the kind of price that the orb requires, and now it's even more widely known with what they've learned of welford's deal. if clara talked to the orb, there's every chance she could lose even far worse than just her life, as if that hadn't been the worst of it. and yet, kovacs knows that the orb could keep her alive and still twist her into eternal torment if it wanted.

he couldn't take that chance. he wouldn't take it even now.

and he's reminded of that when she looks up to him with the genuine truth of her eyes, when her fingers gently brush his hand and still trace an easing warmth. it reminds him that the way he felt for her — still feels for her — he wouldn't turn back on his choice, even if things have changed for them, even if he's a different man than he was just three months ago.

swallowing hard, his eyes finally meet her, soft and genuine without the signature stern sharpness he so often tries to clutch. he looks at her the way he so often did before things had fallen apart. it's only with those eyes that he could say what needs to be said, what could make her furious with him once she hears it. ]


You can't make that deal because I already made it for you.
kovach: (■ 300)

[personal profile] kovach 2022-02-19 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ he can see the way she slowly processes the confession, the shock in her stare, the way she tries to piece it together. and he wishes that were enough, that he could leave it at that and not have to say anything more, but there's no realistic possibility of her not questioning it, of avoiding the welling up of tears he can see already forming in her stunned expression.

his throat feels dry and he tries to swallow it away, knowing he doesn't have an answer to her question, not any that he wants to admit to. ]


Clara —

[ he thinks of a distant memory, of her sitting upon his bed beside him, letting him see the fall of her tears, opening herself to him, trusting him, and he remembers holding her, whispering reassurances, lips to her forehead, vowing the things he'd make sure he never betrayed.

it doesn't matter that what he felt for her hadn't been enough to make them last. it was never about that — that's where he'd gotten it all wrong. it was about the words he always told her.

I got you.

even if there's nowhere to hide, he doesn't turn his eyes away from her. ]


Because I promised you that I'd make sure you never had to pay a price. Whatever happened with us — it doesn't matter. I'd have always made that choice for you.
kovach: (■ 159)

[personal profile] kovach 2022-02-24 04:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ there's guilt in not having told her before, but he'd known what to expect if he ever did tell her, that she'd get upset about him taking on that responsibility, that he'd taken on the cost of what it takes to make a change to a deal in the first place. he'd told her that they'd figure this thing out together, and yet, he went on to do it entirely on his own without telling her about it.

but the reason comes back to her bringing up that question, the one he dreaded on hearing eventually asked. and he knows he can't provide the real answer, because he can already see her crumbling before his eyes, ready to see the distraught tears on her face once she knows what it's costing someone to save her.

it won't matter that kovacs doesn't regret it. he won't let her hate herself for his choice. ]


Time.

[ he doesn't take long to answer, allowing only a few short beats for him to sigh, like there's minor hesitation but not enough room to make it seem like he's trying to come up with a lie. he can't let her catch on that he isn't being honest with her here. it's one truth he can't afford to spill, even if he has to confess to the rest. ]

I have to hang around here a bit longer than everybody else. Put in the extra work.
kovach: (■ 188)

[personal profile] kovach 2022-03-10 04:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ he doesn't elaborate anymore than that, relieved that she doesn't try to think about it too deeply. he knows viveca tries to warn them before hand, and he's not surprised that she'd done the same in warning clara (and he's also relieved that viveca never made any mention of his decision to her either).

he hates to lie to her, he really does. but he doesn't have a choice here. she's already in tears, and the truth would only break her more, knowing that clara's heart is too big for the people she cares about, that she cares about him enough to hate what he might be going through for her. but he doesn't want the pity. not when he knows well what choice he's made — and that it might not even have entirely been about clara, either, but also in relation to the way he sees his own self-worth.

all he can do is bring his arms around her when she moves in to embrace him, sighing as he brings his fingers to her hair and brushes gently.

whatever's happened between them, whatever fantasy he'd had to wake himself from, he still cares about her. and he'll still do whatever he has to in order to protect her. ]


Because I knew you'd try to stop me from doing it. [ just as he'd been quick to stop her in turn. ] And ... then, things with us weren't really in a ... good place for me to ever bring it up.