westwhere | every life is a pile of good things & bad things

[ He pays little mind to whether or not she cares to join him, at least for the moment. She's here with him, that's all that matters. As though he's doing some very thorough and calculated research, he picks up another handful of the snow, then smashes it between his hands, testing how compact it is or isn't. ]

Good bit of moisture in this. We're in luck today! The wetter, the better. [ He grins, pleased at his little rhyme, before he drops the misshapen snowball to the ground and then stands up again. ]

A sea creature...as ever, the very best ideas. Oh, what sort of creature - something grand, you said. The Leviathan, perhaps? I'm sure we can manage it.

[ Her eyes light up a little at that. She wonders if it's possible he's seen the Leviathan in person. Some otherworldly version of it, perhaps? She'll have to ask. ]

With its many heads bursting from the waves?

[ She uses his shoulder for support while crouching down next to him, then reaches out to push at the snow to create tiny weaving piles. Like little waves. ]

Oh, yes, the big beauty. [ Now he's lost in a memory, though he has the wherewithal to realize, finally, that she needs her gloves back. As he retrieves them from his pockets, he's caught between two places; rooted here with her, and somewhere else far away. Careful not to jostle her suddenly (anchored as she is to his shoulder), he turns to face her and the smile that he aims at her is whimsical and tender, and just for her. But his eyes are darker, dimmer, cast adrift on a distant shore with its turbulent waves, the seas anything but calm, yet the chaos of it all absolutely stunning.

He tugs her cold hands closer, warming them with a kiss before he slips the gloves on. Slowly, so he can tell a story. ]

I'll show you sometime. On a planet called Estrade, there's a big, black sea that encompasses the whole of it. Dark waters, like obsidian, and a massive creature at its depths, comes out to say hello if you're lucky. Terrifying and beautiful - oh, is it beautiful. Eyes like amber, its back shimmering with moonlight. Can you see it? We'll have our own version of it here in the snow!

[ Vanessa could decide to keep her gloves one of these times, but it's much more fun to have him summon them from his pocket and put them on himself. Even without the curiosity if he may have left another surprise inside, he's so tender when he tugs them over her hands. The little kiss is, of course, a bonus.

The massive creature he describes sounds like something she could have dreamed up as a child, and she can easily picture it, especially when peeking at the mirrors behind his eyes. ]

Hmn. [ She laces their fingers together. ] A shame then that we won't be able to see our Leviathan in the moonlight. Unless we dared to break curfew.

[ Oh, Vanessa. Taunting him with a good time. ]

I always dare. [ Of course, she knows that already. That's the fun of it. ] Careful putting ideas in my head, I'll come for you and pull you out into the moonlight when you're least expecting it.

[ He squeezes her hand before letting go and moving now to circle around the small mound of snow before them, as though he's some sort of artist mentally sketching a pattern on canvas ]

If you keep doing that bit with the waves, I'll work on its head. Well, one of them. There's so much beneath the sea on Earth. Do you have a favorite creature?

[ But now she'll be expecting it. Of course, that's rather the hope, isn't it? Perhaps if they don't dally, they can make it out and back inside before the doors close at nine. This deep into winter, the night sky arrives early. Vanessa can be responsible enough to keep an eye on the time, can't she?

It means they'll have to make it a worthy enough beast to come visit again. She'll trust him to handle the difficult part. Most of the waves she'll need to add once he makes progress, but she can form a few outer bundles of snow, pinching them into uneven peaks.

She needs to think on an answer, but after a bit she sighs. There is so much life in the ocean's depths. So much decay feeding that life. Even here, buried in the snowy mountains, something primal in Vanessa yearns to swim to the center of the ocean and let herself float with feet dangling low—suspended above all of watery creation. Feeling their vibrations. ]

I can't choose. I think I love them all; even the ones I don't yet know.

[ But, if they're to linger on the topic of supernatural oceanic beasts... ]

It would be quite something to meet Scylla, though. I heard tell that before arriving in Serthica, some in our company encountered a kraken at sea. Perhaps that is a similar enough incarnation, do you think?

The ones we don't yet know are often the most fun. That bit of mystery in life!

[ He smiles at her softly, kneeling down and concentrating quite deliberately on forming multiple heads out of the snow. Using the creature on Estrade as his inspiration, the Doctor sculpts with such adroitness as to suggest that he may have other artistic talents lurking beneath the surface. He can paint and he has, though it's been a while. Sculpting in the snow is a different talent and the three-headed beast isn't perfect by any means, but as he works, there's the beginning of something discernible taking shape, at least. ]

Would be, from the sound of it. What a tale, that was. [ He can't help smiling at the mention of Scylla. Perhaps not the creature most would have chosen, but neither of them are 'most' and he appreciates the uniqueness. ] Pity we missed the kraken.

There are worlds out there where entire cities live beneath the ocean. I'll show you those, too.

[ Vanessa actually chuckles, though it's so short it's more like a loud puff of breath. They're likely in the minority in thinking it a pity not to have met a kraken. There are many more creatures of the deep that Vanessa hasn't seen, and far more that she's never heard of.

She's thrilled at the idea of seeing them, but she pauses in her work to sit back and contemplate the type of city that might be underneath an ocean. ]

Like Atlantis?

[ Of course it would likely be in ruins, but Vanessa likes to imagine that it just took on a different form of life once in the ocean's depths. ]

How would we breathe? Diving dress?

Atlantis! Which one? Different versions, different ways it's been destroyed or reformed, depending on timelines and perspective.

[ He'll tell her those stories, too, of course. But the specific planets and cities under the sea he refers to are something else entirely. ]

There's a planet called Itreria, their whole civilization exists beneath the water. A series of tunnels encased in the strongest type of Itruxian glass. Impenetrable. We'd be able to breathe normally, but could swim out into the ocean just as easily anytime. They have advanced diving suits that mold to your skin so you'd breathe normally even under the water.

[ He leans in closer to her now, eyes lit up at the idea of it. Holding a ball of snow between his hands, he holds it up to demonstrate. ]

We could touch one of the sea creatures as easily as I'm holding this snow now.

[ Which one? It still distorts even her broad way of thinking to consider what it means to have different timelines. The personal considerations are too...complicated. It does make her wonder if there is an Atlantis that never sank into the ocean for a fleeting moment—

But that's gone the more she listens and considers what it would be like to swim anywhere she wished, for leagues until she got too exhausted to even move a muscle. Then she could simply float in the depths and be one with it all.

Vanessa looks at the snowball as if it's a crystal ball showing their future—mesmerized. She can see it, but she doesn't want to touch it for fear that it will collapse, so her hand stays suspended. ]

The docile ones, yes? But what of the dangerous ones...? [ She glances up to him in curiosity. Surely a Time Lord must have an answer. ] The creatures who hunt in the dark? It's them I most wish to reach out and touch.

[ For a moment, the Doctor is lost in a whirlwind of thoughts about all the stories he wants and needs to tell her; in due time, of course. But he is, once again, far more interested in being able to actually show her all the things he's telling her. He wants to see her eyes light up with wonder, awe, uncertainty, hope. He wants to see her stand on the edge of the universe and trust nothing else but the weight of his hand tangled with hers. He wants to be that close to nothingness, to oblivion, to look over at her and know that she's there and not going anywhere.

They'll see all of creation together, the start of everything, the first breath, the first light, and the end of it all. Through it, there they will remain, anchored to one another. ]

The ones that lurk in the shadows, with sharp teeth and deadly intent?

[ The edge of a smile, a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth. He's fond of the question, of her even more for asking. ]

I told you danger is rather my thing, didn't I? I don't go seeking out docile anything, that's not the life I lead. Terribly boring.

[ That doesn't preclude him from enjoying docile creatures, quiet moments, simple pleasures. They'd had a beautiful day together in Eidris, filled with joyful and peaceful things and he'd loved that, but mostly for the sake of her company. He can and does enjoy those times, yes, but he's also always living his life on the edge of danger and trouble. It would be difficult to imagine and accept any other fate for himself. ]

Oh, they have their place, those lovely, gentle creatures, but the ones that come for us with our backs turned, they're far more interesting.

[ Vanessa would like to say that she has never craved oblivion and that she would do anything to avoid it, but something of her has been creeping towards it since the moment of creation—from beginning, to end, to new beginning, with only time as her vessel. The Doctor's unique understanding of this is the first thing that's made sense in her long life, and what is he if not time and space incarnate? He understands the limitless potential in all things—from life to death, from pain to pleasure—and he could share it with her.

It's a prophecy that Lucifer hoped to turn into poetry, and he had nearly succeeded in his courting if he hadn't vastly underestimated her. He was too small for her. His cruelty was too small. What had Lord Byron written? And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need of aid from them—She was the Universe. All She needed was Time.

Vanessa's gaze drifts across the Doctor while he woos her with his love for dangerous things, and she loves him from his eyes to his lips to his neck (she wants to free his collar and kiss him just there), to his hands that seem to defy cold, then back up to the bits of melting snow dusting his hair from intermittent snowfall. She can see him outside and in, and she thinks loves him more than she's loved anything. She loves him for the light in his eyes and the shadows cast behind them. ]

Mm, is that why you sought me out?

[ Gently swiping the snow from his hands, she'll settle it near to form into a wave in a moment, but for now she'll take both his hands and rub her thumbs across his palms, still marveling at his resilience in the cold. ]

Do you wish for me to catch you once your back is turned?

You know the answer.

[ His attention now drawn to her hands, albeit briefly, something of a mischievous and almost dangerous smile curves at his lips. She asks questions that might seem to anyone else playful and innocent enough on the surface, yet he feels, sees, even seeks the layers beneath the words, the dance that's all their own; between shadows, across stars, over ruins, to the end and the beginning, fearing nothing, perhaps, but the loss of the other.

He thinks briefly of other words she'd shared only recently, which had bound him to her in nearly an instant, even more than he'd already been.

I would live, I would thrive for the Doctor.

So, too, would he for her, yet more than that. He knows now that he would do anything she asks of him. A dangerous attachment to form to anyone, he's well aware, but it's the question she asks now that reminds him why this attachment to her is one of necessity, something he's never quite known or even understood before. When his eyes drift back to hers, that understanding begins to settle over him again.

The cold may not bother him, but his cheeks are a bit flushed; he'll leave her to consider from what on her own. His eyes glisten ever so slightly, the smile broadening as he leans in a bit closer, a whisper of a breath away from her lips. ]

Don't say that if you're not going to promise it.

[ Catch him with his back turned. Come for him in the night, in the shadows, in the ash, in the dying starlight; come for him, cover his eyes, drag him into the unknowing void and guide his steps into all that remains beyond. If he falls, they fall and rise together. ]

[ The color to his cheeks only sharpens her attention as it continues to dart over every miniscule feature, every little shift from moment to moment, memorizing. She wants to rip at his collar now—she doesn't want to undo it, she wants to tear it open so that the top button is lost until the snows melt—to press her skin to his so she can feel his hearts beating. She wants to stay near and listen to the quickening and the skips of his pulse until she can place it to a score and fall in love with music again.

But she stays hovering, just there, refusing that level of touch and instead devouring him with her gaze. The snow will soak through her coat and skirts before long, but she's hardly to notice. ]

But your eyes are always on me. How can I make such a promise? You don't ever turn your back.

[ Something she has loved him all the more for, but it does mean her hunting strategy has had to adjust. Somewhat. ]

[ As if it's something he should apologize for, yet he knows that isn't her intent in saying the words. It thrills him all the more to know that, in fact. He doesn't miss the way her eyes focus on him, and in fact, it sends a pleasant shiver down his spine. So many new sensations with Vanessa, he realizes. When has he ever felt a chill of pleasure coil down his spine at the mere thought of someone else? Is this a common experience for humans, he wonders? The sensations, though unfamiliar, are not at all unpleasant, just...different.

He leans in closer, now fully intending to kiss her, though first he must respond. ]

Where does that leave us, then? Always looking after the other. Not a bad thing at all. You'll find a way, though. You'll come for me when I'm least expecting it, around a corner, and that, I'm looking forward to, Vanessa Ives.

[ Would she hunt him, and does he want that? Yes, and yes.

And now, he wastes no additional time before leaning forward, feeling he's been denied a kiss long enough as it is. ]

[ There's no doubt in her mind that he means every word, and Vanessa's sharp scrutiny softens with her grin—thinking how his devotion provides a challenge all its own. Given the Doctor's propensity toward unpredictable behavior, there's little point in planning. She'll need to seize opportunity in order to catch him 'when he least expects'. How fortunate that she can also be a creature of whimsy.

Perhaps unfortunate in this case.

Just as he draws near enough that he's moments from a kiss, he'll find Vanessa's fingertips instead pressed against his mouth and her just behind with a breathless chuckle. Does he think she teases? He's the cruel one! Of course she would kiss him, but they're too close to the inn. Anyone could happen upon them. ]

Yet one more thing to look forward to, then.

[ While the Doctor is not quite pouting, his expression is one of clear disappointment. He stops where he is, of course, and he means to protest, but her refusal is valid—unfortunately, and much to his dismay. He feels quite dramatically bereft, but then she speaks of something to look forward to and she's suddenly lifted his spirits again in the space of a breath. ]

You won't tell me when, though. You'll just leave me wondering, won't you? When I least expect it.

[ It occurs to him now he'll be the reason for his own demise, left to wait, having put the thought in her mind to surprise him so he won't even know when that next kiss will come. ]

[ She may be cruel, but she knows the pay-off will be worth it. Of course, there's not much to be said for Vanessa's patience, despite the impression she may give off to strangers. Anyone who knows her at all knows that she is always struggling with her impulses.

The wheels are turning in his head, and she might almost pity him for having cursed himself in his moment of flirtation. ]

What is the fun in knowing everything?

[ She glances down to the clumps of snow beside them, the snow creature having yet to really form anything deserving of a name. ]

And before any discovery can come of that, we must first complete our Leviathan's creation. Would you leave it so desolate and half formed?

every life is a pile of good things & bad things

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject