| Without warning, the silvery light that appeared to bring new people from other worlds and old items from home appears once more, and this time it lingers, forming portals as tall as an average human near each of the three Ingress shrines. The location does not appear to be a coincidence; this time, the portals are translucent, revealing the destination on the other side. Instead of taking Avagi's residents to the future, it will take them to another world.
If they step through the portal, travelers will find something far different from where they've been living this last month: Kaittos, a peaceful world containing one large land mass and a scattering of lived-on islands across a clear blue ocean. On the mainland, a large city-state occupies the central region and southern coast and resembles what some travelers from some versions of Earth might know of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
Bustling and lively, the city is clean and well provided-for due to the temperate climate and the bountiful natural resources found on its northern side; orchards, farms and forests extend into the distance, butting up against a small mountain range. The technology level is low compared to Avagi, with carriages and candles in place rather than cars and electric lights, but the craftsmen of the world have managed some very impressive mechanical feats.
Kaittans, the local residents of the world appear somewhat humanoid, but the bipedal race has hooves rather than feet, silvery skin and three eyes with vertical pupils. Although there is no sign of any other sentient species in the world, the locals are nonetheless excited to meet their guests, rather than suspicious or afraid; for some reason, they are not surprised that aliens exist, merely that they are here.
In the weeks to come, the stabilized portals will provide a respite from the more confined lifestyle aboard Avagi. Travelers are warmly welcomed and encouraged to explore the land. Some things they'll find include...
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With all their material needs taken care of, the civilization on Kaittos has come to highly value cultivation of the mind. The city itself is full of what can only be generalized as culture. Theaters, art galleries and sizable libraries can be found on every tier, but what they offer is not contained by their walls. Street musicians appear on every other corner, artists are easily found sketching at beautiful viewpoints or interested passersby, and people are as likely to find themselves pulled in to participate in a scene or improvisational performance as they are to witness one. Public debate and rhetoric are also valued, with credit given for style and clarity as much as substance. At the center of the city, a large conservatory teaches lessons in many fields to anyone who cares to study.
This love of culture is so encompassing that visitors who wish to acquire items or resources will find that culture is also the main form of currency. To get something, they will have to give something. Those with skills that fall into traditional arts and culture could offer a piece of art, a music lesson or participation in a debate with other philosophical scholars, perhaps. But visitors will also find that the locals have a deep hunger for information and wish to learn about other worlds; if they can offer nothing else, sitting down with a scholar to record a tale of folklore or an adventure from their own. Lessons in whatever skills they possess are likely to be eagerly sought after, although the aptitude to learn them may not be there.
For those who wish to gain resources or make purchases, a bartering economy does exist to a degree, but it is difficult to break into, as there is little that the locals would truly need from their visitors. The exchange of knowledge is much more prized. Keep in mind, though, that while the Kaittans are not ungenerous, they have an eye for value—the more precious something is, the more travelers will have to offer to earn it, and individuals have their preferences. What might be just the thing desired by one could be pooh-poohed by another.
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While many on Kaittos see food as the fuel that keeps their bodies going so they may better cultivate their minds, others see cooking itself as an art. This is especially prevalent in this section of the city, located deep in the heart of the city, where chefs toil over new recipes and experiment with new ingredients, serving meals free of charge—unless you consider sitting through a lengthy survey afterwards to be a payment, of course.
Although some meals are unpalatable or even dangerous to human bodies, most can be enjoyably consumed. However, around one in five chefs make extensive use of a particular herb that is incredibly delicious—and somewhat addicting. Those who begin to develop a dependency will visit again and again, and the more they consume, the more they may not want to leave at all...
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Spoken of in hushed voices, this section of woods is regarded with great caution. A space of around ten acres is home to many natural springs that form natural pools between copses of trees, many of which hang dropping branches with deep blue leaves over the surface of the water. If asked, the locals will say that this place is where some very old Kaittans—which are an extremely long-lived species—who have decided they've studied everything available in the world and mastered every skill they can, go to "renew" themselves. They prefer to speak of it in vague terms, as specific discussion of this choice is seen as something of a faux pas. If greatly pressed, it is possible to learn the details ahead of time—but difficult.
The truth is that the water of the springs, when mixed with a chemical secreted by the fallen blue leaves, represses memories of those who drink it. Not to the point of complete amnesia; a sip might do away with the recollection of a particular book that was enjoyed, while multiple glasses might hide the memory of a longer period of time. However, there is no control over what is forgotten, or how much is too much. The Kaittans who grow too frustrated with what they view as stagnancy drink to forget so they may have the joy of learning all over again, but the lack of control makes it a risky choice—and some continue to return to drink after they otherwise would have, as they have forgotten what they wanted to forget.
(Of note to those of the psychic persuasion: memories affected by the spring water are not utterly obliterated, but merely deeply sublimated. It is possible to retrieve them, but it would be a challenge, especially if the placement of the memory gaps are not obvious.) |
| While Kaittos’ architecture and culture includes plenty to admire, a few points of interest stand both literally and figuratively above the rest. Three large pyramids tower over the landscape, shining the brilliant metallic blue of a local ore. Over the coming weeks, these structures will be adorned with temporary murals and hangings—apparently, a yearly celebration is approaching.
What kind of celebration? The kind, fortunately (?), that visitors are welcome to join in! November 23 marks the anniversary of what they call the Great Awakening: a visit by a powerful spirit that opened their people's awareness to worlds and cultures outside their own. For the next few weeks, the temples offer welcome to anyone who wishes to participate in their trials. On the day of the Awakening, all who succeed will experience a remnant of the spirit's gift. While descriptions of the process vary, all center around heightened awareness: of each other, and of worlds and places far beyond their shores. Those who decide to make this attempt may choose which temple—and which trial—they would face.
Trial of Life
A test for warriors and scouts, this trial is not recommended to the casual. On entering the temple, participants will find themselves in a maze of obstacles and passages, struggling for survival against dangers both mobile and environmental. To succeed, they must pass inside with no more resources or weapons than can be carried in two hands, and survive for a period of five days. The attackers and hazards within the space are phantasms generated by the temple: solid enough to harm or kill, but prone to re-appearing even once a region should be cleared.
Needless to say, extensive warnings will be given to those expressing interest in the trial. Most who attempt do so in groups, and teamwork among participants is readily encouraged. Those who need to leave early are welcome to do so, but fleeing does count as a failure.
Trial of Communion
The inside of this temple is divided up into a series of open booths. Participants are assigned a station, and will be approached by members of the local population with various disputes that require arbitration. The purpose of the trial is twofold: to assist others with their problems, and to test those making the attempt—in patience, debate, and their skill at resolving conflict through the use of words.
No authority is granted to those taking this test. None of those who come before them are obliged to listen. The participants will be presented with conflicts that have been saved up through the year, and required to work out a solution. This can include anything from property disputes to marriage arguments to literal children's squabbles. Breaks are allowed for food and basic rest, but otherwise, those taking the trial will need to spend five days in continual discourse for the sake of others. Those who give up on any problems brought before them or resort to violence in solving them are considered to have failed the trial.
Trial of Healing
The third temple presents no dangers, whether to one's life or to one's sanity. Instead, it serves as a medical center. Those stepping inside will experience a strange peacefulness and sense of comfort—one the full-time staff confirm has helped many patients to recover. While this temple is open throughout the year, the weeks preceding the Awakening are nonetheless a time of gathering: when healers of all disciplines will come together to assist those in need.
While doctors or healers are welcome to share information with their peers, no special skill or training is required to attempt this trial. Instead, participants are asked to spend a period of ten days doing whatever work is required to assist the sick. While most of the ailments brought to the temple are longer-term in nature, it also functions as a triage center for those harmed in the Temple of Life. |
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thisavrou_log2017-11-09 08:50 pm
clara oswald | ota
[Life isn't a Disney movie. Clara's known that for a long time. She's still against singing in public, but now doesn't mind dancing and enjoying the music others provide. The street performers on Kaittos are wonderful, and Clara's easily drawn in by the native music. She wants to learn it and commit it to memory, same as she has on other worlds. So she spends a little too long watching and admiring the performances, and even takes to dancing if any of the locals happen to want to. She's just finished attempting to pick up on the style of dance that's popular in the city when she ends up bumping right into someone. Her hand instantly reaches out to grab their arm or hand, and she's laughing as she turns to face them.]
How about it, then? Fancy a go?
story time
[After her first couple of visits to the city, Clara's managed to gather a group of younger locals that all love to hear her stories. She gladly shares what she can, at least what she doesn't plan using in trade. She goes to the city often, and can easily be found with a large group seated and circled around her. She tells stories about her travels with the Doctor, usually embellished so she looks like the hero of the story. The stories she tells most often though, are ones about other children.
Her story this particular time relates to a young girl who was taken from her home at a young age and was forced into a very important but terrible role. Her life was expected to be given up to appease an old god, and she was expected to sing a very old and very long song to keep him asleep. But of course Clara and her friend the Doctor came in and saved the day, and the story's told with a great deal of animation and acting out on her part. Clara even pulls some of the younger audience members up to act it out with her.
In the end, they all beg for more. She's just about to agree when she glances toward the edge of the crowd and spots someone from the station. Giving them a grin and a quick wink, she motions with a crook of her finger for them to join her up front. Someone's about to help her make a grand escape or act out another story, she hasn't figured out which just yet.]
trading/bartering
[She's got plenty of stories and interesting tidbits to share with the locals, but what Clara doesn't have is a lot of patience. When she feels like she's talked herself hoarse and all she's got left is her incredibly sentimental mother's ring, she realizes she's barely made a dent in filling her bags with supplies and trinkets. She hasn't even managed to find some interesting clothes yet, either. Maybe this is one time her bubbly and chatty nature is working against her.
The vendor she's bartering with doesn't seem to want to hear anything she's got to say, and she eyes her ring with tired frustration. Luckily, she's standing right with someone who might be able to help her. A simple sleeve tug and a conspiratorial whisper should do the trick.]
What do you think that cloth is worth, anyway?
Trial of Life (closed to the Doctor)
[On second thought, maybe this was a terrible idea. The two of them generally have a problem with rushing into things that seem exciting and end up in over their heads. This just might be one of those situations. Somehow, all those extensive warnings and critical looks she kept getting didn't deter her. Just put one of those fascinating barbed bats in her hand and send her on her way. How awful could this possibly be? They've been through countless challenges and have always made it out.
After a three days of fighting for their lives and surviving the general nature of this place, Clara's realizing that she probably wasn't in the best of shape to be doing this. She hadn't been eating or sleeping properly back on Avagi. Now she's exhausted and is pissy because all she wants is sleep and a warm shower and something decent to eat. But she went into this willingly, and whatever doesn't kill her better run because she's surprisingly fierce and vindictive when she's pushed to this point.
This point being her shoulder being knocked out of socket after fighting something three times her size. Logic says they should call it quits so she can get medical attention. Her stubbornness dictates that she's not quitting unless she dies.]
Just pop it back into place already! I can already hear something else growling, we don't have time for this.
[Yeah, this is going to go so well.]
no subject
and besides, the two of them do this kind of thing on a regular basis, without the expectation of a cool reward at the end anyway. no problemo.
...of course, after three straight days of it, even the doctor's beginning to look a bit worse for wear. alright in the sleep and food department, cheaty alien that he is; he also hasn't really armed himself with any practical weapon, because when does he ever (a pair of magic space sunglasses and a yo-yo, what else does he need?) but he could honestly use a snack, and now there's a hole in the sleeve of his coat that he's been fretting about for days because he hasn't got another coat here, and he keeps finding himself briefly imagining that he can feel the tardis nearby, somehow.
also, clara's shoulder is dislocated. that's a bigger problem. he's currently got himself pressed up against a wall, eyes bugging as he watches like a hawk round the corner for anything that may be approaching to eat them, though his gaze keeps flicking back to his small, irate companion with the bad arm. ]
Clara... it might be time to think about heading back—
[ okay, one of them has to attempt to be the voice of reason.
he doesn't want to say, of course, lest he incur further wrath, but the implication appears to be that she quits. alone. ]
no subject
[The words instantly come out of her mouth, and she gives him a look that says she can't believe he'd ever give up on something. She's too competitive and stubborn to ever give in willingly.
At first she thinks that he's saying they both should quit. Then she looks at his face and really lets his words sink in. When she fully processes it, the fire is clear to see in her eyes.]
As soon as you pop my shoulder back into place, which you are doing, I'll go.
[The implication in her icy tone is that she'll keep going on by herself. Because she's an idiot.
Whatever prize is waiting for them at the end of this, she plans on obtaining.]
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[ shot back just as fiercely.
then he groans, tipping his head back and rubbing his face. something has to be done about her shoulder, regardless, and quickly. to reduce the pain, and also reduce their chances of being mauled by whatever might be lurking around the corner whilst they stand here, arguing in circles. ]
Fine, fine, alright. Sit down— lie down, something. And give me your arm.
[ slides his hand from his cheek and holds it out towards her, palm up. ]
no subject
Count to three.
[She insists, bossing him around even as she wants him to help her.]
Then pop or...whatever it is you're going to do.
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one they're not going to have at this moment. right now, it's shoulder relocating time. ]
It's really going to hurt if you rush this.
[ he takes her arm in both hands, bracing her elbow against her side and holding her forearm straight out. ] Hold still.
One... two... [ he counts very slowly. it's fortunately not a complicated procedure, it's only a simple ball and socket joint and he's done this sort of thing countless times. rotate her arm, slip the bones back into place... as gently as he can, while her nerves are screaming. he moves her arm out, then up, then in. she'll soon feel it pop back in, may even hear it—
which will actually be something of a relief, once it finally gets there. fortunately, putting the arm back where it belongs helps ease the pain a bit. gotta take what you can get, in this situation.
he didn't bother to get to three. ]
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Thankfully, the Doctor makes sure it's not long lasting. When he gets things back in place, her pathetic little choked off sobs die down and she's left feeling intensely relieved. She doesn't try to move the arm though. That's coming much, much later.]
You didn't count to three!
[She weakly accuses, just because she's embarrassed he's just seen her like that.]
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he's not apologizing for the counting.
those were sounds he never wanted to hear (not again.) like a knife, twisted between his hearts. he hurt her— entirely necessarily, in this case, he knows that. but it's his fault: she wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. wouldn't be whimpering in pain with an injured arm in some alien death trap. she would, of course, still be leading a perfectly adequate and relatively safe life on earth as a nanny or something, if it wasn't for him.
he's leading her by the hand to her death and he knows it, and he's still not going to stop.
and yet, not a conversation they're having. he tamps it all down. pulls himself to his feet and offers her a hand up.
neither of them is in the habit of slowing down, certainly not for a thing like this. ]
We've got to keep moving, come on.
[ they've got an alien death trap to beat. ]
no subject
You've missed this, haven't you? The holding hands and running.
[The adventure.
They were on one when they ended up here, so it's not like they've gone long without one. If he's leading her by the hand to her death, she's more than eager and willing to follow him and jump headfirst toward the end of her life. She knows that she dies back home. The timelock can't be escaped. The mark's still on her neck, sitting there in a frozen countdown. That's staying properly hidden from the Doctor for as long as possible.
For now, he doesn't need to know. She gives his hand a big squeeze and laughs as she tries running on ahead of him.]
closed to Adrien
Despite the Doctor's teasing her, she did take her time in getting ready this time. Now that she had access to dresses and makeup, she wanted to impress him. She was attracted to him, and enjoyed his company. Of course she wanted to make an impression upon him.
The biggest problem with Clara liking someone was that her mouth tended to have a mind of its own, and lacked its usual filter. She had to take great care not to ramble too much about stars or her travels, or say anything that might be insulting. By the time they were on their second course, she had taken in enough wine that she was able to relax and be a little less anxious about the whole thing. That was good because eating outside in a candlelit and beautiful environment left her feeling like she was going to end up spectacularly ruining things.]
Do you mind staying out late? I've got other plans for us after this.
no subject
The doctor wasn't quite as lulled into a sense of relaxation by the planet as others might be, but then he was forever a paranoid sonofabitch. Still, he put on some of his best clothes, the cape going on atop and his Glock tucked discreetly into the small of his back; under the cape. This way he could at least pretend at being civilized, while still prepared if things went south.
However, by the time they were to the second course, he had to admit to having relaxed ... in so much as he ever relaxed. The candlelight, the atmosphere and Clara's good humor did a lot to coax him towards being less hyper vigilant. He was not partaking of the wine, sticking to a sparkling water but he did his best to hold up his end of the conversation as they moved through their meal.
Her question caught him just as he had taken a sip of his water, and before he could stop himself, he choked slightly. Not a laugh exactly, but a sound that was a combination ... choking and amusement. ]
Unless we hear differently, there is no immediate need for me back in MedBay so, I am at your disposal for the evening.
[ Despite the lack of alien bug juice to prompt him along, Clara may have noticed that bit by bit, like a rusty machine being brought back online, Adrien's manners reasserted themselves. Manners that held shades of what could be considered a very old world style of politeness; hold her chair for her, standing if she stood, he had tripped up slightly when the waiter had presented their wine at the table.
Though he had accepted the cork for inspection, when the waiter went to pour him a taste, he had to wave them off towards Clara's glass. Adrien had apologized, for the gaff once they were alone once more, and had actually tossed out a conversational gambit to try to smooth over the small bump.
The topic had been ... stars. ]
no subject
Now that he had given her the okay to keep his company for the rest of the night though, thoughts of anything but getting him to enjoy himself were pushed out of her mind. Stars and talk of them could wait. Her focus was right here on solid land.]
I thought we could try dancing again.
[Only this time, he'd be doing it of his own free will. Not that he had been forced before, but things had helped him along. For her, it would be nice to not only re-create a memory, but to get to form new and (hopefully) better lasting ones. His increase in manners hadn't gone unnoticed by her, though she hadn't commented on them or even outwardly shown a sign that she found them to be endearing. The things he did reminded her of wealthy boys she knew growing up. Wherever he was from, Adrien was a gentleman. She wanted to see how that translated to dancing. Or if she even could get him to, for that matter.]
I found the most perfect place to give it a try, though if you weren't too keen on the idea we could always just go to hear the music.
no subject
At the suggestion that they dance he blinked, caught his lower lip between his teeth and looked down at his plate for a moment. He took a moment to think about it, tilting his head to the side as he considered, before giving his response. ]
I haven't danced, since the last time we danced. [ He admitted in a quiet tone. He still didn't smile, though he felt a pinch as if he should at least try to grin, but those expressions were so far away for him.
Besides, Clara seemed to smile enough for both of them.
Adrien tilted his head slightly and raised one eyebrow. ]
What sort of dancing are we talking about though? [ It wasn't an innuendo, but a legitimate question. ]
no subject
Her hands rested at the table's edge, fingertips pressing and fidgeting together. The urge to tease filled her, but she was feeling a little less bubbly now that the wine had taken effect. She was far from even being tipsy, but just a little helped take the edge of her usual high strung tendencies. ]
I didn't have a particular style in mind. I thought we'd be spontaneous and see what happened.
[Only Clara Oswald would make a plan to do something and then suggest that they could also be spontaneous within the constraints of said plan.]
Why? [She questioned, hands stopping their fidgeting to clasp together. Her thumb curled inward and began to move against her mother's ring that she wore on her right hand, slowly spinning it about her index finger.]
Is there a particular sort that you fancy?
no subject
Of the many situations that Adrien had trained himself to be capable of navigating, a simple question about dancing saw him stop and blink, liked a deer in the headlights. Honestly, he could handle life and death chaos all around him with aplomb, but her question left him sitting there looking like a complete idiot.
The truth was complicated. Dancing usually meant large groups of people. Large groups of people being something he tried to avoid like the plague. Growing up, he'd been educated in every gentlemanly dance art (waltz, ballroom, tango, etc) and the educations had come as a forced education -and discipline when he didn't measure up- from his father. When he'd briefly been on his own with the military, he had discovered club dancing but that usually came with an even greater press of people around him.
And honestly, you went to a club to find a bed partner for the night. Dancing was sort of ... the early audition.
Strangely enough he didn't like club dancing nearly as much as he was trained to the classic ballroom. But at the moment he just sat there looking kerfluffled by the question. He wanted to suggest that maybe they could just enjoy a nice walk? But she looked so bright, vibrant and even sweet in her teasing, that he didn't have the heart to shut down the option of dancing. ]
How about we ... as you say, be spontaneous and see what happens?
[ Adrien Arbuckal, suggesting he not over analyze something to the nth degree? Well to be fair he'd already over analyzed it, but ... he was trying! ]
no subject
She wasn't very good at compromise, she tended to like getting her way. He was letting her have that, so she was appeased. The fact he took her words and turned them into an answer that suited him only made her that much more charmed by him. Her hand reached out across the table and touched at his. He really had been gobsmacked by her asking, poor thing.]
Spontaneous it is then.
[She had completed a trade for their meal the other day, and since things seemed to be gearing toward the direction of spontaneously seeing what happened she signaled that it was time for the final course. Dessert was promptly brought out, a small spongelike cake that was drizzled with some kind of fruit. Clara guessed it was local berries.]
I thought it was about time we made good on that dessert.
[Now that could be an innuendo or an entirely innocent comment, depending on his interests.]
no subject
Because it would be so easy to follow her lead. Part of him ached to do just that, was genuinely charmed (rather than threatened) by the way she calmly bossed the world around her. He was used to strong, independent women in his life and anyone who proved themselves capable was worthy of respect.
Clara had always proved herself capable. But Adrien felt a certain disquiet at just how high strung she'd been earlier. He wondered if she wasn't overcompensating for something within her own mind that she was trying to escape. In which case, it was possible she needed a friend more than a complication.
So he ducked his chin slightly at the leading statement about dessert, but didn't take the bait beyond letting his eyes twinkle with shades of acknowledgement that the innuendo was there. ]
Looks delightful. [ He said instead, watching her from under his lashes and letting her decide if he was speaking to the dessert or to her.
A little flirting wouldn't hurt.
But then he picked up his dessert spoon and waited for her to start on her's, before tucking in to his own. ]
Aside from spontaneous, what sort of dancing have you learned over your travels?
no subject
Her fingers curled around the other spoon and she began to slowly eat at her portion, and she internally debated on if she should be honest or keep being flirty. Flirty was easy, it was no strings attached. It meant they could enjoy a date without her weighing it down.]
Would you believe that I actually don't typically like dancing?
[She wasn't sure he would. ]
Up until recently, I never saw much of a point in it. I was always afraid I'd look ridiculous.
[She was vain enough that her image meant everything to her, and she liked to present herself as being completely put together. Every little hair and piece of clothing had to be pressed and put in its proper place, and that didn't typically leave a lot of room for things like dancing.]
I did learn a few more...spirited moves from Jane Austen last time I visited her, though.
no subject
If I recall my history correctly, in her time a spirited move would be called the waltz. [ His expression was neutral as ever but there was a hint of mischief in his tone. It was only there for a moment, before it smoothed out and he backed up to address her initial question.
After watching her face for a moment, he took a carefully held card off his 'vest' and set it down on the table. ]
Would you believe that it was the one social activity I learned that I did enjoy? I didn't have much choice in the beginning. It wasn't done for a child of a family like ours not to dance and Father was quite strict on us learning our steps and being able to do so while holding conversation.
[ If she remembered their dancing, Adrien had actually been able to hold his eyes up and on her own as they had danced. ]
My elder sisters used to borrow me as their 'mannequin' when they were putting together their formal outfits for dances and the like. If I had been particularly troublesome, or if I'd lost a bet with my sister Arie, she would take her payment out in making me dance the 'follow' position in her outfit so she could be certain it would work for a night of dancing.
Heels included.
[ He'd let her chew on that imagery, find the recollection of the memory no where near as painful as it may have been in the past. And if she'd even noted it (which given that this was Clara she probably did) his use of words had taken on a song like cadence with their formality; much as they'd been the last time they'd danced.
As opposed to his usually growls and sharp, short sentences.]
no subject
It seemed so far removed from what he had to do here that her heart felt a momentary ache for him.]
You care so much more than you let on.
[She imagined his sisters must mean a great deal to him. And his father must too, same as hers does for her. But what she meant with her words is that she was sure he loved getting to do that with his older sisters because he cared about them and wanted to make them happy. She could see that side of him just in how he appeased her often enough.
Her eyes glanced downward, but she refused to continue feeling sorry for herself. Right then and there, she swore that she'd stop projecting this image of perfect energy when she could just be herself and talk to him like she might the Doctor.]
And look at me, caring too much about looking composed and perfect. I never want anyone to know how I feel past that bubbly exterior. [She paused, giving him a wry smile because she was sure he had picked up on that by now.] Growing up, my parents were working class. We didn't have much, especially after Mum died. So dressing up and dances weren't in the picture. But I remember being little and their playing Beatles songs and dancing together. Mum used to hold my hands and spin me so much that I'd laugh over the music, and Dad would swoop in to try and teach me actual dances. But I've always been headstrong and thought I knew exactly the right way to do everything.
[A habit she was guilty of even now. She really needed to work on breaking that.]
Thing is, I'm not perfect. And it's good that...well, I'm just glad you aren't either.
[Hopefully he wouldn't take that the wrong way.]
no subject
Adrien almost dropped his spoon when he heard those words from her lips. He fumbled it a little as he looked up in shock, his expression reflecting that surprise before he could settle it back to it's more habitual mask of neutrality.
Part of him wanted to scream that he didn't. He didn't care. He couldn't afford to care; not now. That she was wrong. Part of him wanted to jump up from the table and retreat quickly and that part almost got the better of him, until he saw the way her own expression changed.
The way the overly bright facade relaxed and allowed more of Clara to come shining through. They way her smile reached to her eyes and that she even lit up in response to his story. This was all dangerous especially given the secrets he was sitting on, but he knew that Clara had her own secrets and perhaps -for the moment at least- it was alright to take time and simply live in the present.
Settling his spoon in his hand, Adrien took two breaths and then did something he almost never did. He allowed a soft little chuckle to escape his throat. It was a tiny thing, there and gone and with no accompanying smile, but it may have lingered in his eyes as he glanced towards her. ]
I will be the last person to claim perfection. I am well aware that I am a trainwreck, just usually I forget to remind myself of the fact when I'm actively shoving my foot in my mouth.
If you ever need testament to this phenomenon, talk to Elena Fisher.
[ Taking his spoon, he poked another piece of cake loose and chased a berry as he considered his next words. ]
We all carry the weight of our personal burdens with us. Some of us are better at sharing the presence of landmines than others, and sometimes people need to keep themselves purposefully blinded to the trials of others, in order to make it through their own.
no subject
I don't want to be blinded anymore.
[She whispered the words as soon as he finished saying his, frowning a little as she pushed a berry around her dessert plate with the tip of her spoon. She set it aside and opted to pluck the berry up with her fingers, so she could put it in her mouth that way. After chewing on it longer than was really necessary, she swallowed. It did a good job of helping the lump that had formed in her throat go down, and she glanced up at him as she started to feel a little self-conscious.]
But I don't think you're too keen on revealing the presence of yours. So don't worry, I won't pry too much. Not unless you want me to.
[That warmth was back in her eyes as she looked back to him with a dimpled smile, and after plucking another berry off her plate she moved to stand up.]
I want to show you something. I think you'll like it, if you don't mind a bit of adventure.
[Dancing is well and good, and could always happen later. But maybe her trying to force the classic idea of a "perfect date" on the both of them isn't what's best for either of them. She had been going about this the wrong way, and suddenly loathed herself for trying too hard when she really didn't need to. He was interested. He had to be, or else he wouldn't be here.]
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But he hadn't thought about it that way. He'd thought about it more along the lines of trying to give them both a point of contact for the time when his foot invariably ended up in his mouth and he screwed this up. ]
Mine aren't very good dinner conversation. [ He admitted and this time he did look down at his own dessert. He had poked the sponge into pieces at this point and gave up, setting the spoon down signalling for the remains to be taken away. He felt a small prick of conscience, he knew that Clara had traded for this meal and it had been wonderful so he hated leaving food on the plate.
But then she was smiling at him, dimpling -and wasn't that just enchanting- before moving to stand. Of course there was no question that he moved quickly to join her, his expression curious as she spoke. ]
A bit of an adventure. [ He deliberately looked around, indicating the entire unknown world, before back to her. They were rather on an adventure already! However, he knew what she meant and motioned with his hand. ]
Lay on MacDuff.
[ For a man who lived a fairly paranoid existence, and who spent many hours preparing, preparing and preparing again, he did seem relaxed enough in her presence to be willing to go along with some unknown spontaneity. ]
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Yeah, I'll do my best to make it count. Come on.
[Instead of feeling the need to grab his hand out of an urgency to have any kind of human contact, she allowed their proximity while walking be enough. They had a walk ahead of them, and she was perfectly happy to let most of it be in companionable silence. It wasn't until they were nearing the beach that Clara decided to speak up.]
One of my favorite places to be is sitting out the edge of the TARDIS doorway, legs dangling out into space.
[The sun had set and the stars were overhead, leaving Clara eagerly heading toward the rocky cliff that Diana had taught her how to jump off of shortly after they were able to visit the planet. She had been out here a few times at night since, so she knew the easiest way up.]
You don't mind climbing, do you? I promise the view'll be worth it.
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And hey, at least they're not going to start collecting money at the end of it. So she might as well just enjoy herself.
Her attention almost automatically turns to the human woman who's dancing among the natives, or at least trying. She stands out quite well from the group and not just because of her appearance. A small smile appears to her lips. It's quite entertaining to watch.
But just then the crowd around her moves, pushing her a little so that she has to take a step forward in order to maintain her balance -- making her to bump into the woman. She doesn't even get to voice a protest before her arm is grabbed and pulled into a dance. And for s quick moment a hesitation runs across her face before her expression settles back to the calm but little playful smile.]
Only if you teach me the moves.