be_seeing_you (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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come_sailaway2022-09-01 10:51 pm
be_seeing_you) wrote in come_sailaway2022-09-01 10:51 pm
September Catch-All [OPEN]
Who: Number 6 & YOU
What: Trying out the new fencing gear he got, drawing portraits, casino daydreaming, trying to steal jewelry & more!
When: September 1st for fencing, thru the month for other prompts
Where: All over the ship, see individual prompts
Warnings Potential for violence, alcohol/smoking, will warn for more as necessary
Challenge him to a friendly duel
When the notification comes that he has a package waiting in Sundries, he has no earthly idea what to expect. But, he must say, once he's torn the nautical paper off to find a fencing practice kit inside, he is rather pleased. Well, with one exception. The Epee he's been provided is neither blunted nor is it tipped with plastic the way it should be for safety. It very much seems to be a live and dangerous blade. Admittedly, he's not too sorry to have a functional weapon given the characters around here, but it means he'll have to be especially careful when practicing with it.
He's up on the sports deck making use of one of the empty tennis courts as his makeshift practice arena. In the absence of a tip protector, he's wrapped some gauze and medical tape from the infirmary around the sharp tip in an effort to achieve close to the same effect. That way, when he stabs the wall at the back of the court, it leaves slightly less of a divot.
He puts himself through some familiar drills, re-familiarizing himself with his technique and generally working to improve his stance and remember his form. It's clear just from looking that he's had some experience with this. If only he had a proper partner to fence, alas.
Have your portrait drawn
He doesn't tend to flaunt it often, but Number 6 actually does have a bit of talent for the arts. Perhaps he's not the most creative of minds, but he's rather good at capturing likenesses in portraiture. So, on various days and in various places throughout the ship, such as the dining hall, the sports deck, the library, and even in some of the pubs and bars (or anywhere, your choice), he will sit himself down quietly in the corner with a pad of paper over his knee and a pencil in hand. Anyone who catches his interest may become the new subject of his drawing. For the most part, they are flattering renditions. He doesn't mind if someone wants to observe, he'll simply nod to them and keep scratching with his pencil until he's satisfied.
Once he completes his drawing, he'll approach his subject and hold out the sketch to ask, "Excuse me, I wondered if you might like this?"
Lost in the game
With a cigarette in hand and whiskey in front of him, he sits at one of the blackjack tables idly playing against an invisible dealer. It's hard to tell if he's enjoying himself. He's got a far-off look on his face as he idly scratches the table to request another "hit." Win or lose, he doesn't seem to have much of a reaction. His mind is obviously elsewhere. He's so zoned out, in fact, that on this rare occasion even someone who isn't particularly stealthy might be able to sneak up behind him unawares.
Jewelry shopping
Right. The time has come to investigate that jewelry store. Why is it that no one is allowed to take anything? Of all the places on this ship, why there? He can be found bending over the displays, scrutinizing the various pieces through the glass. There doesn't appear to be any way to get at them. Not any way that doesn't involve a bit of violence, that is. So be it.
He goes, briefly, to the nearest bar and brings back with him one of the bar stools. Raising it over his head, he prepares to bring it down on one of the cases. Little does he know, that won't be enough to shatter it no matter how many times he bashes the glass.
But, he has to try.
Wildcard!
Hit me up with anything! Feel free to plot with me over on plurk![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
KansaiBanzai or on discord Cmdr.Crackers#5481
What: Trying out the new fencing gear he got, drawing portraits, casino daydreaming, trying to steal jewelry & more!
When: September 1st for fencing, thru the month for other prompts
Where: All over the ship, see individual prompts
Warnings Potential for violence, alcohol/smoking, will warn for more as necessary
Challenge him to a friendly duel
When the notification comes that he has a package waiting in Sundries, he has no earthly idea what to expect. But, he must say, once he's torn the nautical paper off to find a fencing practice kit inside, he is rather pleased. Well, with one exception. The Epee he's been provided is neither blunted nor is it tipped with plastic the way it should be for safety. It very much seems to be a live and dangerous blade. Admittedly, he's not too sorry to have a functional weapon given the characters around here, but it means he'll have to be especially careful when practicing with it.
He's up on the sports deck making use of one of the empty tennis courts as his makeshift practice arena. In the absence of a tip protector, he's wrapped some gauze and medical tape from the infirmary around the sharp tip in an effort to achieve close to the same effect. That way, when he stabs the wall at the back of the court, it leaves slightly less of a divot.
He puts himself through some familiar drills, re-familiarizing himself with his technique and generally working to improve his stance and remember his form. It's clear just from looking that he's had some experience with this. If only he had a proper partner to fence, alas.
Have your portrait drawn
He doesn't tend to flaunt it often, but Number 6 actually does have a bit of talent for the arts. Perhaps he's not the most creative of minds, but he's rather good at capturing likenesses in portraiture. So, on various days and in various places throughout the ship, such as the dining hall, the sports deck, the library, and even in some of the pubs and bars (or anywhere, your choice), he will sit himself down quietly in the corner with a pad of paper over his knee and a pencil in hand. Anyone who catches his interest may become the new subject of his drawing. For the most part, they are flattering renditions. He doesn't mind if someone wants to observe, he'll simply nod to them and keep scratching with his pencil until he's satisfied.
Once he completes his drawing, he'll approach his subject and hold out the sketch to ask, "Excuse me, I wondered if you might like this?"
Lost in the game
With a cigarette in hand and whiskey in front of him, he sits at one of the blackjack tables idly playing against an invisible dealer. It's hard to tell if he's enjoying himself. He's got a far-off look on his face as he idly scratches the table to request another "hit." Win or lose, he doesn't seem to have much of a reaction. His mind is obviously elsewhere. He's so zoned out, in fact, that on this rare occasion even someone who isn't particularly stealthy might be able to sneak up behind him unawares.
Jewelry shopping
Right. The time has come to investigate that jewelry store. Why is it that no one is allowed to take anything? Of all the places on this ship, why there? He can be found bending over the displays, scrutinizing the various pieces through the glass. There doesn't appear to be any way to get at them. Not any way that doesn't involve a bit of violence, that is. So be it.
He goes, briefly, to the nearest bar and brings back with him one of the bar stools. Raising it over his head, he prepares to bring it down on one of the cases. Little does he know, that won't be enough to shatter it no matter how many times he bashes the glass.
But, he has to try.
Wildcard!
Hit me up with anything! Feel free to plot with me over on plurk
no subject
"Then, I won't mind if I do." He pulls up a nearby chair next to her and seats himself upon it primly. Books are nice, but stories told one person to another will always be his preferred method of information gathering.
"I'll do my best to interrupt you as little as possible."
no subject
"The Doctor and I, we...have a history of saving one another's lives. He hates it when people get hurt or die for him, he can't stand it. He's the one's supposed to do that for others, not the other way 'round. But all that to say we were close." Somehow, even without a heartbeat, she's able to blush, and her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.
"I love him, and he loves me, but not the way people think of what that involves." She'll have to let Number Six assume what that means on his own.
"It's important to know the Doctor's part of a race called Time Lords. Pretentious sounding, yeah. But they can do things like manipulate time to bring people back from the dead for a brief moment, not permanently."
Clara smiles sadly but pauses. "Still with me?"
no subject
"I understand his feelings. I dislike others putting themselves in harm's way for me." Which is why the events of that final day at the diner gnaw at him so badly. Rin had died for him. He still doesn't know what to do about it.
"But I do understand the kind of bond that can form from that. Now that he's here, I hope you are able to bring comfort to each other still." He'll spare her any signs that he notices the blush.
That part about Time Lords does still take him a moment to process. Always, he's having to remind himself that the impossible is real here. "I think so. Is that what happened, then? Your death was stopped in time?"
no subject
"The other Time Lords locked the Doctor in a prison, essentially." The specifics of his confession dial don't matter, really. "His people can live an extraordinarily long time, I don't even think he knows how long. After I died he stayed locked away. All he had to do was give information. I think he was punishing himself for letting me get hurt even though I was the only reason I died. He let them keep him locked away for four and a half billion years."
The amount of time still makes her chest hurt. "They brought me back to get what they wanted but he ran with me, soon as I opened my eyes. My heart, it's...between one beat and the next. Feels weird not havin' it there, beating. I breathe but it's just habit."
Clara pauses; this is the first time she's told the entire story beginning to end and she looks at Number Six. "I'm sorry I'm rambling. If I tell anyone else, I have to find a faster way to get to the end."
no subject
"My dear, don't be sorry. I'd hardly call that rambling. In just that explanation, you've told me a great deal about what a dedicated companion he is to you. It must be just as much a comfort for him to see you here. I don't know how he could tolerate this situation otherwise, to be frank. To be held captive once already should have been quite enough."
no subject
"He did it for me. I don't think he would ever question doing it again if he had to." She thinks about everything they said to one another after the amount of time brought her to her knees.
Why? Why would you even do that? But she'd known why.
"He murdered someone for me. Never had done in all his life. Ever, not cold blood. And when he couldn't find a way to restart my heart, he decided it would be worth it to rip apart the universe, literally, to make it beat again. I'm supposed to be dead, my death it's...it's a fixed point in time and when you mess with those it breaks everything. I couldn't let him do that. Not to the universe. Not for me."
There's a single tear she brushes away. "I had the TARDIS create a program that would wipe away his memory of me. He-" Here, Clara's voice breaks but she clears her throat yet again. "He agreed and the next time he looked at me we were strangers. All of the things we did together he...remembers them but there was a hole where there should've been me."
Clara gives a small shrug of resignment. "I traveled alone for a hundred years and I couldn't stand it anymore. Just before I woke up here I'd gone back to the Time Lords. Asked them to make my heart beat. Then the Doctor showed up a couple weeks later, remembering me. But he has no idea what I did."
no subject
"I feel confident in saying what you did took a bravery most do not possess. You know this, of course." She must.
"I'm going to tell you something about this place that to any other person would be a horror, but to you, it may come as a comfort. We, the we that are here, are copies. Our original selves are still where they belong living out our lives as they were always destined to be. We are fragments, split from our own timelines." Clara has Ava to thank for giving Number 6 this explanation.
"Because of that, we cannot return to where we came from. We are not part of our own worlds anymore. For you, it means death never needs to come. For you and for him, it means that you no longer have to be beholden to those rules. You could start over here. You could have that chance."
no subject
"That is...one of the best things anyone's said to me since I woke up here." She could hug him, but instead, her stunned expression melts into gratitude.
"People who want to leave should be able to do that, so there's still the Captain to tackle." There's the risk that by helping and stopping him, all of this ends, and what Number Six just described turns to ash. But she won't stop helping because she might not get what she wants. No one deserves to be held against their will.
no subject
"Yes. The forced nature of this is still intolerable and I'm not inclined to forgive the Captain for it. But whatever we do must be done carefully, or else if he perishes then so do we all." He's willing to let himself be obliterated, but he isn't willing to do the same to all the others here.
no subject
There are so many questions though, and the implication of what could be happening every time the door is opening - that a hole is being torn in the universe - is unnerving.
"Thre are more of us than him, and I know eventually we'll all figure it out. Or he'll run out of power. It can't be limitless, it has to come from somewhere."
no subject
"There are a lot of us putting our effort into discovering the true nature of him and this place. I do hope we will succeed before he decides the game is not fun anymore."
no subject
"As long as you're here though, would you mind if I called you a friend?"
He was kind to her when she first arrived, and no one's ever drawn her portrait before - that she knows of. "Maybe I could even be the ear at some point. I've been alone so long I got used to talking to myself. I miss listening."
She'd traveled with Ashildr for a bit but the woman was too much for Clara, having her fun by stealing and causing general disruptions. They'd parted ways and she never had anyone on board the TARDIS long-term again. Sometimes, she forgets she can stop talking.
no subject
A rare touch of pink rises to his cheeks. He's not sure he's ever been asked so sincerely by someone to be called a friend. What is this foolish giddy flutter in his chest? Her sweetness seems to move something in him that he thought was long-dead, a desire to listen but more... a desire to share.
"Of course, you may think of me as a friend. And I consider you one. I think... yes, it might be good to have a confidant. You will have to forgive me if I still sometimes hesitate. I've been on my own for a long time as well."