Clara Oswald (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bossily) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2022-02-13 07:07 pm
bossily) wrote in 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]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
trashpanda. Also open to Wildcard options, if you'd like to do something else!]
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
no subject
[She whispers, her eyes a little wide as she glances up at him.]
You're not weird, Newt. And you never have to apologize for being yourself. Or explain to me why you don't want a kiss to the cheek.
[Of course, her reaction had led him to feel like he needed to explain. And she feels bad for that.]
If anyone should be apologizing, it's me.
[She doesn't apologize, however. Neither of them have done anything to be sorry about. It's not entirely her fault that her face is so expressive, even if she could've done a better job keeping a mask on things. ]
Come on. [She motions with a nod of her head.] We'll bring what we've picked to the kitchen. And you can focus on helping me chop this all up.
no subject
[Newt follows her, though there's a nervous tension to his shoulders as he carries his own box. He's guilty, and he explains himself anyway, even when she tells him he doesn't have to.]
I've just been feeling kinda out of it. That's all! And then the thing with Hermann, and the getting shot at, and all of that, I've just been kinda... frazzled. Maybe. Ugh, I just need to chill out. I haven't felt this wound up since the last few weeks of war back home.
I'm great at chopping up stuff, though! Totally a champion at it.
Just don't ask me to actually cook, because I'll burn it all to a crisp.
no subject
[She half-teases, as she hands over a basket full of what looks like yellow squash. He can put his muscles to good use carrying that for her.]
Every evening between now and the start of our next mission. You and me, in the kitchen. I'll make sure you can cook without burning a single thing.
[It gives them something to do together, and it'll make her feel better by enabling her to teach him something new.]
Deal?
no subject
So he puffs him his chest and smiles and says confidently:]
You're gonna make me a bona fide chef? Is that what you're saying?
Because that sounds like a deal.
[Him and her, in the kitchen. They'll cook. It'll be nice.]
Wait — do you really know how to cook?
no subject
[She teases him, laughing and giving a playful roll of her eyes. Gathering up two baskets in her arms, she leads the way off toward the kitchen.]
I'm not a chef or anything, but I'm not hopeless either. Between the two of us, we'll make something everyone on the station can enjoy.
[It's one of her ways of taking care of everyone here. preparing large meals to leave out and in the fridge if anyone wants to grab something. So yes, she'll make him an almost chef, just the same as she is. She's determined.]
no subject
But she seems to be — recovering. So his defenses drop, and his eyebrows slooowly rise.]
... I know how to make mac 'n cheese.
And pizza rolls.
[He's just saying, he totally already makes things everyone on the station can enjoy. And if they say they don't like either of those, they're lying or evil, there's no in-between.]
no subject
[She teases, giving him a nudge as they round the corner toward the kitchen. He seems to be a bit more like himself now, and that puts a content smile on her face. Whatever's going on can't be that big of a deal. Her Newt is doing just fine.]