clara "why are you booing me i'm right" oswald (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
makemeasong) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2022-12-10 07:36 am
makemeasong) wrote in westwhere2022-12-10 07:36 am
the snow falls down, it's a magnificent signt
WHO: Clara and you + any closed starters as requested
WHEN: December
WHERE: Around the inn and the grounds
WHAT: Shenanigans, direwolves, bathhouses, and more
WARNINGS: Will change if needed, but for now none
β π΅π’π π¦ π‘βπ βππππ
β π΅π’π π¦ π‘βπ βππππ πΌπΌ
β π‘βπππ’πβ π‘βπ π€ππππ
β πππ‘ββππ’π π
β ππ¦π π‘πππ¦ ππππ
β ππππππππ ππππ
β π€πππππππ
WHEN: December
WHERE: Around the inn and the grounds
WHAT: Shenanigans, direwolves, bathhouses, and more
WARNINGS: Will change if needed, but for now none
β π΅π’π π¦ π‘βπ βππππ
Once Clara finds a routine at the inn, a fair amount of time is spent in the kitchen. It's the warmest there, and she promises to go out and gather things for their meals. A sudden influx of people is no small thing, and Clara's nothing if not helpful. Keeping busy helps her thoughts stay focused instead of wandering toward feelings about her time with the Doctor. She never wanted him to know how he died, but at least Red's assured her that he shouldn't remember. That's enough to keep Clara from worrying the Doctor might try and do something to stop her from saving his life, because she knows he would if he could.
In the kitchen most mornings because it's easiest to gauge what might be needed, she's glancing over the list and hums, calling out to the last person to add something.
"I don't see a number on the black trumpet mushrooms. How many, or should I forage with my heart?"
β π΅π’π π¦ π‘βπ βππππ πΌπΌ
Red-cheeked from being outside, Clara bounds into the kitchen with her basket overflowing, setting it on the counter to let the cooks pick through. There's a hearth with a fire and a stool which seems quite cozy, so she helps herself. A bucket of beans is thrust at her and she's asked to shell, so she does, happily. Some of her favorite memories with her mum were in their kitchen, and Clara starts humming a tune to herself from home, a random one she used to sing to Artie to help him sleep.
There's a second stool for company and she doesn't hesitate to smile softly when someone drops by.
"Feel sort of like a happier, better-taken care of Cinderella, sitting here." She knows it's 50-50 on if the story is known or not, but she's happy to tell it.
β π‘βπππ’πβ π‘βπ π€ππππ
Clara's found the wooliest of scarves and borrowed it for her trips out during the day. She's vaguely aware of the danger of wolves, but she has her new sword with her—not that she knows how to use it properly—and it's tucked in her pocket. She didn't understand at first, but it's convenient that it's only large when she puts the hilt of it in her hand. The rest of the time, it's pocket-sized.
When she hears the crunch of snow behind her, Clara stops and turns her head to the side, listening.
"Hello?"
If it's wolves, her plan is to just sort of...run, but she's also betting wolves aren't so loud if hunting. Fingers crossed.
β πππ‘ββππ’π π
Quietly thanking the ancient Romans and Greeks for this idea, Clara sinks into the warmer waters of the bathhouse after taking a quick dip in the cold. It's the first time she's truly relaxed since before she was even pulled into this place. She'd begged for the Doctor's life, been granted her wish for him to live, and after a few minutes of relief, the man she knew was gone. A new face, a new set of rules that included pushing her as far away as possible without actually telling her to go. Then Clara was here, no time to breathe in between. River's assured her it gets better in time, but if people really don't remember anything about this world when they go back to their own, then what? She'll lose the hope she has now.
It's much easier not to think about it, though her aura's a little more hued toward a pastel blue, just the slightest tinge of sadness. So much happened in Serthica that her mind wants to shut it all out, box it up and ignore it.
Hair messily pulled up in a ponytail, she's up to her neck in the water when she hears footsteps and opens her eyes. Finally, her chance.
"Do you know they charge an insane amount of money to use the bathhouse in Lancashire? Of course, they call it a 'spa' and offer massages, but still. It's water. No need to try and make it something fancier than it is."
β ππ¦π π‘πππ¦ ππππ
Has she ever been great at skating? No. Is she attempting it anyway? Yes. She's not wobbly, but she isn't that fast either, taking her time making loops around the hard ice. The last time she'd skated was with an ex who'd literally skated away after she'd dumped Clara. It's funny now, in hindsight—she can't even remember why they broke up it was so long ago.
She's smiling at the memory when she's suddenly knocked off her feet, not by someone bumping into her, but because something hit her feet from below. Struggling to get up, her eyes widen in alarm as through the opaque ice she just barely sees a shadow.
"No, not today."
She absolutely is not getting involved with anything terrifying, but she can't quite get her feet under her again. Managing to make it to her hands and knees, she doesn't look up; instead, she's still staring at the ice as the shadow continues, making her wonder how big, exactly, it is.
β ππππππππ ππππ
Clara didn't even have a chance to register what was happening before it was, pulled in by a group she doesn't know and given very loose rules for a drinking game. 'Where's the water?' is new to her, shot glasses full of clear spirits, and some with water. It takes her a few tries to pull out a convincing lie, but by then her throat is numb anyway. After four shots, she's pleasantly warm, and her laughter cuts through the air. Her eyes light up and she reaches out to pull in someone simply walking by, a light touch on a wrist, dimpled smile beaming upward.
"Can you bluff, and can you bluff well?"
β π€πππππππ
[ ooc: hmu with anything your heart desires. CR comment is here. I'll match prose or brackets, whatever you're comfortable with. Reach out on discord @ lifewasawillow#5524 or PM! Quite willing to do a ton more, but if I keep writing prompts you'll all have a novel to pick through, whoops. ]
Through the woods
There are wolves about, though, as the howling attests. For a second, he looks around, and then his eyes suddenly take on a silvery purple glow, and a wavy symbol appears on his forehead as is made of silver light. It only lasts a few seconds.]
Do not worry. They are hunting rabbits. They won't have any interest in bigger prey that can defend itself.
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That's good to know. I still think I need to get closer to the inn. I didn't realize how deep I'd gotten.
[ She gestures toward the basket on her arm. ] I came to forage and pickings were really good.
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[And, just as he mentioned, the next howl seems to come from farther away.]
I am quite sure we have spoken before, but I don't think we've had much face-to-face time. I'm Beitang Moran.
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I do have a weapon, but I'm not sure how to use it yet. I know there are people here who are handy with swords, though. [ She's pretty positive he's right, that they've spoken over the devices. ]
Clara Oswald. Nice to actually meet you. Are you foraging for the kitchen?
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[Because, as you don't know yet, Clara, he is an actual royal.]
I was just stretching my legs and trying to get the lay of the land. We've been attacked while staying in isolated lodgings before, although they were not populated prior to our arrivals. I was looking to see if there might be some areas more conducive to sneak upon the area.
And if you need help with a sword... [Let him hold up his.] I have trained a good number of soldiers in my time.
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[ She means that. At his offer and after taking a good look at his sword, Clara pulls what looks like a pocket knife out of her pocket. But as she wraps her hand around the hilt, it grows into a spartan sword. ]
I dunno how to feel about the sword knowing to adjust for me. It's weird.
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... Well, that's a first for me, I must say, but I suppose it makes it easier to transport. It looks heavy.
[he holds out his hand.]
May I ?
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That's—I mean it's...magic? I have a magic sword now that may or may not be useful later.
[ She sounds unsure only because she's used to the things on this planet hurting her, not helping. ]
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[But even as it changes size... Moran runs a hand along the blade, giving a tap that rings out.]
It's good steel, at the very least, even if I've never seen steel that could change shape in this way.
Do you have any experience at all fighting with a blade.
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[ Clara smiles at him sheepishly. She knows she needs work. ]
But I'm serious about learning. I've already been through so much in this place, I think I need to adapt.
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[Okay, that might not be his best joke, but he's used to bantering with people who have known him his whole life and would find it hilarious.]
Until you've learned to be more comfortable with it, if you need to use it, aim for the gut. Gut wounds are very painful, they're extremely disabling, and hard to heal.
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[ Clara smiles, appreciating the joke because she's beautifully nerdy. But she does look more serious and nods slowly. ]
On anything, right? I'm hoping it doesn't come down to people or a person, but if it's an animal, also the gut?
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[He hasn't gone hunting in a while, and he prefers bow and arrows when hunting, but he remembers that.]
Depending on the animal you might get better luck scaring it away with loud noise.
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Make yourself big and loud? I thought that was just for bears, but good to know. I'm not that big to begin with, so good luck to me.
[ She smiles in good humor though, obviously hanging onto his words and intent on actually learning things. ]
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[He'll give the sword a twirl, and then hold it out back to her, hilt first.]
Another good tip when it comes to weapons : don't take it out unless you're actually ready to use it.
the holidays murdered my brain i apologize for the slow!
That's pretty easy advice to follow. No one will even know I have a sword until I draw it and point it at them, which I'm gonna call an advantage.
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[He's actually grown a bit serious here, because he feels it's important.]
A blade is a weapon. Its sole purpose is to take lives. Every time you draw it, you must be prepared for the possibility that you will take a life, whether you intend to or not. And the life taken might be yours, too. If you're not prepared for that, do not draw the blade.
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Looking at the now small weapon in her hand, she knows she would never brandish it unwarranted. Meeting his eyes again, she nods at Beitang in understanding. ]
This isn't sport, we aren't fencing. If I kill something here, I have to be able to live with that. [ The sword will be her last resort, brandished only when she knows there isn't another option. And if she dies, she'll die fighting for herself or others. ]
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[But from her expression, he can tell his words have hit the mark. This is a smart young woman.]
If you're finished with your gathering, I'll escort you back. You won't have to worry about using just yet like this.
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Yeah, thanks. And the longer I can avoid having to use it the better, but this place? I doubt it'll be that long. Highly.
[ She doesn't think that's necessarily negative of her, more realistic. ]
Are you enjoying the semi-break? [ There are still ghosts, after all. And something under the frozen lake. ]
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[But that doesn't answer her question.]
It's nice to have some personal space again.
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[ She tilts her head just a little. ]
But I've met good people, so death puppets and ghosts aside, it hasn't been all bad.