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bakerstreet2022-08-08 12:19 pm
mllememe) wrote in bakerstreet2022-08-08 12:19 pm
Entry tags:
sws.
TELL A STORY IN SIX WORDS
1. Post your top level with a six word story prompt. Making up your own is fine as well.
2. Other people respond, write a starter, get a thread going somehow.
3. ???
4. Profit!
Original meme from here.
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Clara whizzed and bustled and pinballed around the little shop in her element; locking things, closing drawers and grabbing keys, whilst he did a frankly sterling job of helping by letting himself be ushered out the door.
Outside, the sun had almost finished setting beneath the horizon of sand and sea as it threw daggers of dying orange light through the wooden lattices of the North Pier. The Doctor briefly met Clara’s face, matched her smile and then turned and took in a hearty intake of breath.
“Ahh, classic Blackpool sea air! Doesn’t matter if it’s 1901 or 2021, it always smells the same!”
He turned to her again, “So, what’s it to be? Fish ‘n’ chips or sandcastle building first?” A pause, before he added, not entirely in jest, “Unless sandcastles haven’t been invented yet…?”
[OOC - oh mate! That’s absolutely rubbish - my wife and I got it at the beginning of the year and it was horrible! Drink lots of water and don’t worry about replying if you’re not 100%… Doctor’s orders.]
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"How do you know what the air smells like in 2021? And of course it would smell the same, what else would it smell like?"
Air is air, isn't it? She's smart, adventurous, and spunky, but she's been taking care of herself for over a decade already, and she's only 25. As much as she's wanted to learn, as much as she's devoured the books she can get her hands on, she still hasn't seen or done anything outside of Blackpool since she was thirteen.
Clara would never turn down a meal, but she isn't sure if he means to pay or not so she tries to remember how much coin she has.
"Been a long day. Food first, if you don't mind." Her hunger wins out, she'll figure the rest out later.
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With a grin, he rakishly straightened his bow tie and set off confidently in one direction before about-turning and confidently setting off in the opposite direction. He hoped Clara hadn’t noticed and was at his side. Presuming she was, he continued talking.
“Oh, you’d be surprised. Scarborough in 1978? Helluva stench! Mind you, Torquay smells lovely at this time of year—no wonder Agatha stayed there for so long.”
He stopped suddenly and turned to face her—assuming she was even there—and his voice was graver now.
“So, the tarot reading in the shop… what do you think it was? I have theories but you know your own head better than anyone and you’re clever, Clara Oswald. Cleverer than I think you’re letting on.”
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"Agatha who?"
But then the Doctor's in her face and she nearly stumbles back, eying him suspiciously again. But there's a flicker of genuine alarm when she thinks back to the reading.
"I told you I don't know, nothing like that's ever happened before. It was like images in my head I didn't ask for." And she'd like to get it out because not all of it is happy.
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“No wait. Images in your head?” He frowned his most frowniest frown. “What kind of images?”
He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer…
[Sorry it’s so short, it felt a bit like needless padding when I tried to write more.]
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