Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 16, 2019 5:15:00 GMT -5
The sound of a washing-machine with the hiccups was muffled by the alley walls. Now whether anyone in the area knew what a washing machine sounded like wasn't clear. But the blue box still materialized there anyway, ever so slightly lifting up someone's laundry. For several long minutes, it just sat there. Nothing happened. And nothing happened around it. It just sat there. Innocently not making any noise and not phasing in and out. After another minute, the door clicked open and a woman walked out, as if she had been in the small looking box all this time - despite the fact that it hardly looked big enough to sit down in. The door closed and she started walking down the alley. The walk was the sort which made people think that the person who was strolling around should be whistling. The woman wasn't whistling, but she was looking around at the windows with the passing curiosity. Like she was people watching. Her steps still held purpose and she took a turn and continued to walk along a street without attracting attention. The purposefully walk paused a bit, eyed a building, then continued. The woman still gave off the air that she should be whistling, but her eyes told a whole different story. Those eyes weren't the eyes of someone who wanted to be whistling right now. Those eyes wanted to get somewhere. Preferably in a hurry. But the eyes were going to be patient and walk around at the same pace as everyone else, just so she didn't attract attention.
It was just like any other day. Hundreds of people going to and from work, ignoring the people in the street they had to step around, and not looking up from the cement for fear of having to socialize or make eye contact with someone unpleasant. Occasionally someone would look up and acknowledge the boy selling papers on the corner, and some made themselves feel a little better about their morals by giving the boy - who leaned his weight against a wooden crutch - just a few extra cents than they normally would have payed for a paper. Some approached him without him calling out the headline, each greeted by his sunshine-like smile that never wavered from his face even when he moved and his crutch seemed to get caught in between two particularly stubborn cobblestones. He shifted every so often, his stack of papers to sell getting smaller and smaller. For the most part though, he was ignored. The boy was just another part of the New York City backdrop, and most people had better things to do than pay attention to one boy selling newspapers. It was midway through the afternoon when he thought he heard a weird sound around the corner, but he shook the thought off. Most weird sounds in New York City were too dangerous to be worth investigating, but in general spoke to the possibility of a better headline in the morning. The one he was holding now - an editorial speaking to the validity of William McKinley’s campaign - wasn’t exactly exciting enough to lure in many buyers on it’s own. “Earthquake Shakes Eastern Tip of the Country!” The boy shouted, although those words were never in the paper themselves. “You heard it here, just a penny a pape!” he called, though few approached.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 17, 2019 1:49:05 GMT -5
"I assume the earthquake ya are talking about is an analogy to William McKinley's campaign?" said a voice to Crutchie's left. A couple coins were held out as another hand gently took a paper from under the boy's arm. From there, the hand with the money was still extended while the other hand held the paper so the woman who had taken it could read the headlines. She scanned them over and then seemed to get deeper into it as she went. She looked at the paper with the same intensity as she had the journey to get here. But then her eyes just flicked to the date and there was a small, but colorful, curse which she said under her breath. She folded up the paper. The money she had offered appeared to be right, but the difference was she clearly wasn't paying enough attention to see that some of it wasn't. One coin, near the bottom, might have been solid gold. Another wasn't even any type found on earth - not unless some president had three heads - and yet another bore a date from six thousand years in the future which sported the face of an elderly female and stated 'God Bless America' in small script somewhere in the corner. From her expression, she clearly had something far greater on her mind than whatever she'd just passed the boy. The paper was tucked under her own arm and she started walking down the street again, with a brief 'Thanks!' tossed over her shoulder as she continued to stalk along the road with a purpose no one else seemed to have in their steps. Her head wasn't down. It looked around and tried to catch every eye possible. Looking for something ...
The boy flushed scarlet as he was called out on his lie about the headline, but the woman seemed like she was going to buy a paper anyway, so it didn't seem to matter. If she thought it was a clever analogy, good on her. It wasn't much of a campaign, Crutchie had to admit. It was just McKinley running again and promising to make good on a lot of things that were good for business and not much else. Yet, considering a lot of the other presidents who had been in office during Crutchie's lifetime, McKinley was a marked improvement. Nothing supporting workers over companies, yet, but no monumental crackdowns on labor either. It was an uneasy balance, full of strikes and events that seemed just a little too real sometimes. Nothing ever hit extremely close to home, though, not yet. He supposed it was only a matter of time. It wasn't until the woman was a couple of feet away that Crutchie realized that what he was holding in his hand wasn't a collection of pennies. "Ma'am!" He called after her, pocketing the coin from 6,000 years in the future. He hadn't noticed the date and he figured Wiesel was too stupid to catch that the face on the coin most certainly wasn't the familiar shape of the unknown Native American with his traditional headdress. It was about the same size as the traditional one cent piece, so Crutchie had no qualms about using that one. Yet he couldn't just take the woman's money if it was usable elsewhere, as it wasn't like Crutchie was ever going to get out of New York. "Ma'am, I think you..." he frowned, trying to figure out where the coins were from. It had to be a practical joke, right? "Ma'am!" He was limping behind her as quickly as possible, until finally he caught up. "These coins don't work 'round here, and I didn't wanna take nothing that might be useful somewhere else."
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 18, 2019 2:28:30 GMT -5
The woman frowned and stopped, glancing at Crutchie and then at the paper she was holding, seeming to pay attention to the headlines again. Then she looked back at Crutchie and seriously apologized. "Sorry about that." She rummaged around in her pocket and pulled out a handful of pennies - the type that Crutchie would recognize and ones he would not. She weeded the ones which were correct out. "How many?" she questioned, thinking back to what others had been passing him and silently reprimanded herself for not paying better attention. She took the amount she had and held it out to him, trading him for the incorrect type she had passed him before. "Thank you," she said. Either he hadn't noticed the worth of the coins or he was just more honest than other people who were in his position. She pushed her collection of loose change back into a pocket. It was amazing that she didn't jangle when she walked. Then she checked the sky, like someone might check a watch, glanced back at Crutchie and said with a wain smile, "I am afraid I am running a bit late. Night meeting you." Then she went back to walking, though this time she wasn't as hurried. The last time she'd hurried, she had hurried right into a blunder. She need to be more careful with the money she brought around. She didn't want who she was waiting for her to leave. Honestly, why she'd been asked to by a newspaper before she got there she didn't know. There hadn't been anything important in it ... Well, she supposed it was important, but in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't exactly something which the person she was meeting would pick up on. She hadn't noticed one of her coins was missing.
Crutchie frowned. Obviously the woman hadn’t meant to overpay him, and there was no way he was willing to take advantage of someone who clearly had no idea what she was doing. He was reluctant to take pity money, but even that was a good sight better than someone accidentally overpaying him. He glanced at the pennies in his hand. He knew most of the other newsies would have pocketed it and not bothered to return it, and while Crutchie wouldn’t have judged them for it, he knew he would feel guilty if he accepted this woman’s money like this. Although, with the amount of change she had, perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to keep the excess. Nonetheless, curiosity about the other coins was aching in him, and he was desperate to see where this woman was going. If she hadn’t so accurately guessed the proper headline, Crutchie would have thought she wasn’t from around here. She had an accent - sounded British, he thought - but even if she was from England it didn’t change the fact that she had handed him currency that was, without a doubt, not useful anywhere. Crutchie could remember currency from Ireland that his parents had shown him. It couldn’t differ all that much from British, right? So, Crutchie had an idea. He would follow her for a bit, keeping a safe distance behind, until he figured out exactly what she was up to. If it was something benevolent he’d stop her and give her the money back. If it was anything other - if she was mixed up in anything dangerous - he would pocket it and force himself not to give it a second thought. It wasn’t a great plan, but Crutchie had to do something. Besides, he wanted to know what was going on with the woman, and at least he could pretend now that he was following her for a good reason. He frowned, glancing down at his bag. He didn’t have too many papers left to sell… he could probably spend at least an hour or two following her, and he doubt it would even that long to figure out where she had been headed in such a hurry.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 21, 2019 2:45:29 GMT -5
The woman clearly hadn't noticed that Crutchie was following her or she probably would have have made a bit more of an effort to try and loose him. As it was, she was actually pretty easy to follow. She took side streets, but it was clear she didn't really know her way around the area as much as she could have. She took a side street and came out once again into another, slightly more trafficked road. Then she paused. She looked in both directions. She looked at the newspaper as if that might give her answers. Nothing seemed to help, so she leaned against a wall and looked around again. And then, lastly, she looked straight up at the sign which was posted above her head. She pointed skywards, said a low "Ah ha!" and then turned through the front door of the building. By the looks of it, it was a bakery. She could be seen through the window, talking to someone almost as soon as she had gotten through the door. It was hard to tell who the person was, for the most part because they were wearing what looked to be like a hat, but one that covered the hair and not going so far as to cover the eyes. Them there was also the fact that while the woman was in direct sunlight the person she was talking to was not. She talked for about ten to fifteen seconds before she started gesturing with her hand and looked slightly distressed. Then she shook her head - no ... she shook her head and then hung it, as if either frustrated or apologetic. Then she raised it again and started talking once more. After a couple more seconds, she reached out to the other person, took their wrist. It had something on it. Almost like a very thick bracelet. She tapped her fingers along its surface, though it was too distant to make out what. And then, still looking frustrated or apologetic, she dropped the hand and ... the person disappeared. Just ... gone. No time to move to a back room. Nothing. The woman tapped her foot against the floor and said, in a louder voice so it drifted out to the street, "You ow me for the paper!" The paper was gone as well. Maybe passed to whoever had just disappeared.
Crutchie felt at least a little bit bad for eavesdropping on her conversation, but in his defense, he couldn’t really hear much, and it was obvious to anyone who was paying even a little bit of attention that there was some sort of argument going on in the bakery. The woman had a look on her face that definitely said she wasn’t particularly happy with her current situation, and if Crutchie was reading it right, the man didn’t really care. Until he disappeared. For a moment Crutchie thought the woman had murdered him, but a look on the ground produced no body out of thin air. The man had been alive when he’d been banished to wherever she’d sent him, but he obviously wasn’t there anymore. For a brief moment Crutchie let himself consider that they could have been practicing for a magic act, but that didn’t seem very likely in the slightest. He almost turned to leave when he actually heard the woman’s voice. She had far overpaid for it, which probably made the loss of the paper even more devastating. Not that most rich people would probably consider losing a newspaper devastating, but in Crutchie’s world, one newspaper could mean the difference between a bed in the lodging house and sleeping on the street. “Miss,” he called, entering the bakery in a bustle as though he’d just gotten there and hadn’t been waiting outside to see exactly what was happening. “Miss, normally when folks overpay for papers I don’t question it, but you seemed a bit…” he didn’t want to say anything rude that could potentially get him killed, but the truth was there. “You seemed like you was in a hurry, and overpayin’ didn’t seem intentional, so I cain’t take all this.” He held out most of the coins she had offered, keeping the one cent that would pay for the paper. “Sorry for any confusion, miss."
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jul 4, 2019 5:27:08 GMT -5
The woman turned, looking slightly surprised when she once again saw the familiar figure of Crutchie. This was starting to become a habit. Wasn't this the third time she'd seen him? Maybe his constant reappearance made sense considering the variety of coinage she had passed him. The fact he was honest enough to return it was what really surprised her. She couldn't help glancing at where the man had been before she swept her blond hair back using one hand and took the offered coins with the other. "Thank you ..." she left the pause at the end just in case the newsie wanted to introduce himself. The coins disappeared into her pockets and she looked around the bakery as if contemplating buying something. "You are more honest than most people I expected to meet here," admitted the woman. "Did you want something?" she waved around at the selection in the building. "The ... employee just had to step out." She actually wasn't sure about that. She couldn't see the man working here. But then again, he was the one who had sent *her* the very specific distress call. Maybe he was just distressed to be working in a bakery.
“Crutchie,” Crutchie replied, offering a tense smile. There was something that seemed a little bit familiar about the woman, but he couldn’t quite place it. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. “And I wouldn’t have returned the coins if it had seemed like you actually meant to overpay by that much, but you didn’t. We all gotta make a living, and I don’t wanna make one by cheatin’ other folks.” Unlike a lot of the big corporations that didn’t seem to have any reservations about doing exactly that. “I don’t got enough money to buy anything here,” he admitted. Fresh baked bread was one thing, but this place looked rather more fancy than one of the places that would give out burnt bread to the kids on the street who really needed a meal. Besides, if he was going to spend his hard earned money on food, it would be something more filling than bread. He could always get bread from the nuns or from more generous bakeries. “I was just tryin’ to give you back your money. Have a good day, ma’am,” he finished, tipping his hat to her and moving to exit the bakery. Who knew if and when the employee would return and kick him out because he definitely didn’t look well off enough to actually pay for any of the pastries they were selling, and he didn’t really care to be branded as a thief.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jul 24, 2019 4:39:38 GMT -5
Crutchie. Nickname from the others in his group, she supposed? She might have made a horrible attempt at small talk - something she wasn't exactly good at - but it seemed like Crutchie had other ideas. The Doctor stared after him, mouth opening to say ... something ... but by that point he'd already pushed passed the door. Sighing, the Time Lady reluctantly turned away and stepped toward the back room. "Good going, Doctor," she muttered to herself. "Ya made a very large fail to make a friend right there." She picked her way across the room like she was avoiding invisible glass. Truthfully, it involved her thinking about Crutchie more than anything else. Not unusual, but not what she had expected either. Something was bugging her. Something almost familiar, but under it a nagging sense she had missed something which had been right in front of her nose. She went around the counter, checking the back room. She half expected to see a body, but there was no one. There was, however, a note on one of the back tables. "'Be back at 2, don't flirt with customers,'" she read. Well, at least that answered her question about anyone being around. So, not alien invasion related. Just Jack invasion related. She glanced around and then headed back for the main room. Maybe a bagel would help with the nagging feeling. It had to do with his eyes, she bet. No ... no, maybe his mouth? Something was off. Something missing. With him? It seemed possible. Like he was missing a puzzle piece and so was she. No ... no, still didn't sound right. Like she had noticed something familiar because she was missing some things about her memories and thoughts as well. And that seemed to resound from Crutchie too, in a way. She picked out a bagel, wrote a note for Jack, and then set her money on the counter. This time she was careful about the amount she gave. Then she headed around the counter and out the door, bagel held in her mouth while she moved and then taken by her left hand. Should she follow Crutchie? It seemed like a good idea. She couldn't see him now, but she assumed he was heading back to where he had been before or another nearby corner. She moved back into her familiar, lengthy step, intent on finding him.
Crutchie tried to shake away all thoughts of the Doctor as soon as he had left the shop. He didn’t know who she was and he was certain he had never seen her before in his life. He would have remembered if he had seen someone that eccentric before. And he always remembered the customers who were kind to him, because there usually weren’t that many who managed to be kind without the extra layer of thinly veiled pity. Those were almost worse than the bad customers. Yet Crutchie didn’t know why he couldn’t force his thoughts away from the Doctor. He didn’t know why, when he closed his eyes, he kept seeing those strange coins she had given him, or the way she’d spoken with that man in the bakery. “Get ya pape here!” He shouted into the open street, hoping to distract himself by drawing in customers. “History in the making, McKinley up for reelection!” He was in a relatively well off part of the city. They would be more interested in the political news here, so he figured he would be fine just selling the headline as it was. These people cared more about who was in office than they cared about the lives of others living in the city. Depending on who controlled the White House, they might be able to make a couple thousand extra dollars. One man approached Crutchie and passed him a penny, then yanked the paper out of Crutchie’s hand so hard it almost ripped. This was why he didn’t tend to sell in these areas. The people here didn’t even bother to say hello. Yet, for whatever reason, Crutchie didn’t want to draw to far away from the bookstore. He was foolish to think that the woman would come after him. After all, she had nothing to offer him, and he had nothing of use to her. Their interaction had been one of business, only. After a few more unsuccessful attempts to sell the paper, Crutchie turned to head back in the direction of the lodging house. Back towards the others where he could boast a much lower salary for the day, because he’d been foolishly trying to sell to those who couldn’t give less of a crap whether he lived or died. Something was itching at the back of Crutchie’s head, but he kept pushing it away. It was as though something was trying to burst through, but wasn’t strong enough yet to proclaim what it was. Crutchie shook it off. It was probably something from his past, and if he had learned anything it was that his past was much better when it stayed behind him. When he couldn’t let thoughts of it disrupt his every day. He wasn’t looking where he was going. He veered right, a yelp of surprise escaping him once he found himself once again face to face with the Doctor. Another coincidence, like the very first time? No, there was something in the look on her face. “Can I help ya with anything?”
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jul 26, 2019 18:10:30 GMT -5
The Doctor hadn't actually expected Crutchie to round the corner. She paused - or rather, froze - as they nearly ran into each other. "Oh," she said. She hadn't actually thought of anything she was actually going to say, making this all a lot more complicated than she felt it had to be. She coughed once out of awkwardness and then pressed the palms of her hands together in something like a slow clap. "Well," she said. "Ya see ..." She pointed to Crutchies head. "You haven't happened to ever run into an alien before have you? Just curious." Now that she could focus on it better, there was something wrong. It wasn't like Crutchie had naturally forgotten something. She wouldn't have been feeling this 'wrong' sense. She wouldn't have been picking up much of anything at all. The same would go for if it had been an unnatural but still human created cause (amazing beings, humans. They could do so much to shape their own minds. It just wasn't always what they needed). It felt ... Well ... It felt Time Lord in origin. Too neat. Too obvious. "Not that ya would remember if ya had," she said with a sigh after a second. "Ever run into any blokes in high collars? Or a lady in a purple dress - looks a bit like a governess? Guy with a black beard and a nasty temper? Crazy blond? Might have hung around once to see if it stuck ...?" But if it was The Master, then Crutchie probably still wouldn't be here. She didn't seem to realize that, to Crutchie, she was spouting gibberish.
Crutchie frowned, shaking his head. “An alien? Wha-” he didn’t have time to finish his thought before the Doctor started talking again.He listened, trying to wrap his head around what she was saying. None of it seemed familiar, but she seemed so convinced about what she was talking about that the newsie felt inclined to at least hear her out. He kept waiting for one of her descriptions to ring a bell, but they never did. “Miss, men in high collars is somethin’ rich folks do for fashion, and it ain’t like ladies don’t wear purple.” He shrugged. “And I try to avoid governesses. They don’t pay well and most of ‘em got nasty tempers.” He wrinkled his nose. The truth was that he wanted to answer the woman and give her what she wanted, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t feel like he could just walk away, though, so he gave a small smile and tilted his head. “You’se the craziest blonde I’ve ever met. And it don’t seem fair that you ‘ave my name and I don’t have nothing to call ya.” Normally he would never be so forward as to ask a customer’s name, but he had a feeling this woman was no ordinary customer. And New York was a big place. It wasn’t like he would ever see her again. “Your friend, though, in the bakery, he didn’t leave, did he?” Crutchie’s voice was quiet as he asked, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Not out any of the doors, for sure, but you didn’t do anything to him, else I would’ve seen. Is he a magician?”
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jul 31, 2019 17:04:40 GMT -5
She'd never told Crutchie who she was? She stared at the boy blankly, amazed at herself. Then she shook her head. She was a bit impressed he was still standing here, after everything she had just said. He hadn't had any sort of reaction to her statement. She didn't think that anyone else had the ability to truly be that effective in messing with Crutchie's mind, but she didn't exactly have many ways to prove it. "I'm The Doctor," she said, once again realizing she'd spaced out just a little. That's what she got for trying to puzzle things out in her head without actually doing what she had been thinking. "He left," she said. "But no. He didn't use a door." She snorted a bit at the suggestion that Jack was a magician. "I don't think he has ever been a magician. Not unless it got him somethin'. He's ... well, I'm not exactly sure what he is these days. He tends to save people. Sometimes. Or just makes a fool out o' himself." There was a note of familiarity in her voice which made it fairly clear that this person she was talking about was a well-known friend. "As for how he left, I'm sure he went anywhere than here. The impression I had was he'd been here for a while." She glanced to the side. "Actually ... wait here ... right here." She held up both hands, palm facing Crutchie. "I will be back in two seconds. Just stay right here." She had an idea. She rushed off, her coat flying out behind her as she started running back the way she had come. Maybe she if Crutchie saw the TARDIS, it would help him remember. It was a higher concentration of Time Lord tech and would probably do better with triggering ... something ... then her standing there and, as far as Crutchie was concerned, babbling. She was true to her words and was back two seconds later, walking around a corner in the complete opposite direction from the way she had rushed off. The TARDIS was parked around it. She might have been tempted to land it near Crutchie, but they were still on an open street. She didn't want to block traffic. "I have somethin' this way," she said, pointing back the way she had come. "It might help ya remember."
“Alright, Doc!” Crutchie replied, grinning. When he was younger he would have thought twice about the name, but the truth was he came from a world where a nickname meant an ability to hide from one’s past and never have to look back. It meant reclaiming one’s identity and twisting the way the world saw you to fit exactly how you wanted to be seen by the world. So while he didn’t believe that the Doctor was this woman’s real name, it wasn’t like Crutchie was his real name either, so he held his tongue. Besides… this woman was strange. A normal name would have been far too mundane for her, Crutchie realized. “Sounds like a quite a hero,” Crutchie replied somewhat sarcastically in response to the Doctor’s description of Jack. “Not particularly effective if he makes a fool out of himself when he means to save people. Though I guess if he meant to save people I can’t say anything ‘gainst him there.” As long as he was saving people who actually needed saving, not people who others assumed needed it… he kept that last bit to himself. “I wish I could find such an easy way out of here,” he admitted quietly. He sometimes got the feeling he had stayed in one place too long, but he didn’t know why. Of course he could never leave behind his friends here, but he felt an urge to move on. An urge he would never act upon, probably. He was about to say something else when the Doctor left. Of course he waited as she had asked him to, though he wasn’t sure why. And then he heard a sound that cut down to his very core and very nearly made him drop his crutch. It was a sound that felt so familiar it crushed his heart, though he could swear he had never heard it before in his life. It felt like tree branches breaking and stars exploding and the knowledge of other lives that he couldn’t see clearly enough to reach. Without a word, Crutchie followed. He had no other choice, right? Surely the Doctor meant whatever had made that noise, and he felt an urge to run towards it anyway. His heart in his chest, he followed. He was desperate to see. Even though he was certain there was nothing he had forgotten.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Aug 11, 2019 0:39:06 GMT -5
The Doctor didn't even glance back. Instead, she approached the blue police box with a quick, pointed stride. She couldn't guess as to Crutchie's feelings. But she wasn't watching either. Instead, she unlocked the door of the TARDIS and pushed it open. "Come on," she tossed over her shoulder. The outside might be unrecognizable, what with the constantly changing form of the usual TARDIS, but she could bet the inside wasn't. It screamed of Gallifrey's technology. And it was the best introduction she had when it came to things like this. Not that she ran into things like this very often … at least she didn't think she did. The door opened, revealing a soft, gold glow illuminating an otherwise poorly lit room. Certainly "bigger on the inside". The Doctor loved it. She spun around hurriedly, backing up until she had her hands braced against the console. She wanted to see Crutchie's reaction. This was, secretly, her favorite part. Seeing the amazement and newness of the reaction was always a reminder on why she loved it. "Come on!" she added encouragingly, in case there was any hesitation. The first step in finding out what Crutchie was missing in his head meant, doubtlessly, a trip. But she felt there would need to be some explanation. Even if he had seen the inside of a TARDIS before, he wouldn't remember it. Or trust her. Why go after missing memories he didn't even know to miss?
Crutchie frowned. “It’s too small to fit both of us,” he replied, brows creasing. Yet the Doctor seemed quite insistent and he really didn’t want to disappoint her by not following her, especially since she seemed very excited about whatever was inside the blue box. And it did seem rather familiar, so it couldn’t be too dangerous, right? And there was a light coming from it which was certainly ominous because the windows weren’t illuminated, but the mystery of it was just another temptation. He took a deep breath and a few steps forward, expecting to find himself in a cramped yet oddly illuminated space. What he found instead was nothing short of amazing. He heaved in a gasp, trying to look everywhere at once because there was so much to take in and it felt like it was going to be taken away from him at any moment if he didn’t try to digest it all now. “It’s bigger on the inside,” he whispered, not aware he was parroting the words of hundreds of others before him. It was really the only thing he could think to say. Nothing else would do it justice, and even the awe in his statement came too short. “What… what is it?” He questioned, approaching the wall and reaching out a hand to brush his fingers along it… the smile on his face betrayed the amazement blossoming inside him. Yet he also felt sad. Why did he feel sad? Something wet was tracing its way down his cheek, but when he pressed his finger to it he was shocked to see that he was crying. Why… why was that happening? “What does this thing do?” Not an accusation, just a simple question, weighted with more than Crutchie understood yet.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Sept 2, 2019 14:56:35 GMT -5
If The Doctor heard Crutchie's statement outside of the TARDIS, she didn't answer it. Instead, leaning against the console, she watched Crutchie entered the ship, watching his expression. There was something slightly off about it from the usual first introduction, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe he was familiar with the whole 'bigger on the inside' concept. That might be it. "She's a TARDIS," said The Doctor brightly. There almost seemed like an answering whir from the ship, the lights brightening a bit. The Doctor smiled. She couldn't see Crutchie's full expression when he was looking at the wall. But she did answer his questions. "A TARDIS is a ship. But rather than travelin' around the world, a TARDIS can travel anywhere. Any planet, that is. Any star system, or cluster of black holes. Any time. Before ya were born or after ya're long gone." She pushed off from where she was leaning, spinning around the console like a madwoman introducing her collection. She waved around at the buttons and brass dials along the surface of the console, continuing to talk. "And if I'm right, ya've been on a TARDIS before. Ya have that look about ya. And I know that look." She glanced back at Crutchie, eyes narrowing as if she could somehow see him if she stared hard enough. "The question is ... do ya want to know what ya don't know?" Her head tilted. "Hum? A little trip maybe? Jog the memory? I take requests." She'd prefer just any old trip, though Gallifrey could probably have helped far better.
“She,” Crutchie marveled, shaking his head. “Does she have a name?” he asked, whirling around with wide eyes. “What should I call her?” It was obvious to him that the machine around him was, in fact, alive. The lights had brightened up and she seemed to be responding to his presence within her. And she seemed slightly familiar, but more like a half remembered dream from when he was too young to separate reality from fiction. He’d learned since then. And this had to be a dream now, right? “I’ve never been here before,” he managed. “But I’d love to travel.” He kept the last part of that thought in the back of his mind: if this is real. He still didn’t believe it, but who was he to tell the universe that things like this were impossible? If it wanted to give him the impossible, it had already taken enough from him that he was alright accepting a gift just this once. “I don’t think going somewhere is going to help me remember anything you say I forgot,” he added, crossing his arms. “If you can take me to ancient Ireland, though… or I suppose Gaul, if my ma was right in telling me that…” he couldn’t remember a lot from his childhood, but it was all because he had chosen to stop thinking about it. Maybe the Doctor, if that was her real name, was right. Maybe he had forgotten some things, but he highly doubted he would forget anything as amazing as the space ship they were currently in. Unless he’d been very small when it had happened. But the truth was he didn’t want to remember things from when he was very small. There was too much there that was painful. It was easier believing that this woman was deluding herself into thinking he was something special. “You’re gonna be disappointed at the end of this,” he told her softly. “There’s nothin’ special about my memory other than that I don’t remember lots of my childhood. By choice. Nothin magic or anything like that.”
Post by mintedstar/fur on Sept 3, 2019 15:48:02 GMT -5
"Time And Relative Dimension In Space," said The Doctor. "T-A-R-D-I-S. That's what you call her." She was smiling, finally coming to rest on the other side of the console but still facing Crutchie. She absentmindedly spun a dial on the dash and there was an almost buzz in response. It didn't seem like it did anything. It was just a familiar gesture. "Ireland!" she exclaimed, lips twitching into not quite a smile, but an expression with a similar enthusiasm. "I've never been to Ireland. Well, maybe I have. Maybe I haven't. Coulda been the Twelfth one, that's all a bit fuzzy, though not as bad as the one before. Anyway …" She clapped her hands together and walked around the console, falling into a familiar pattern that seemed ingrained into her being. Dials spun, buttons pushed, a pedal here and there was pressed and all the while she looked at Crutchie. Her hand landed on a lever, the lightest pressure going into it. "I'd advise sitting in that chair," she said to him, nodding to the one not far from Crutchie. "Or hold on!" She pushed the lever down, and suddenly there was a sense of movement. To … somewhere. Somewhere else, other than here. The Doctor was grinning now, the feeling of the TARDIS under her feet outweighing that of the disconcerting thought she was not only forgetting something (a near constant) but also that there should be a more serious reaction to all of this. But why? "Not magic, by the way. Don't have the hat for it. Well, I might, but I'd have to find it and it really isn't my style." She tapped her fingers against her chin. "And we'll have to see. If I'm wrong, ya get to see Ireland." There was a very distinctive sound from the TARDIS and the turbulence lessened and then stopped. "And we're here." She glanced over at Crutchie, aware he didn't believe any of this. But she waved her hand at the door anyway. "After you?"
Crutchie frowned, trying to figure out what that meant, but he supposed the Doctor had already explained that bit. It meant that they could go anywhere and everywhere and there was nothing like physics or common sense to stop them from going anywhere - or anywhen - they wanted. And evidently they were going to Gaul. “How can ya not remember where you’ve been?” he asked, eyes widening. He was pretty sure that if he had ever been anywhere outside of New York he would have remembered it, simply because of how much of a momentous occasion it would have been. He’d spent his entire life in one city, as far as he knew. Maybe he’d been elsewhere as a baby, but he couldn’t remember exactly what his parents had told him. He couldn’t even remember if he’d been alive when they had moved to the United States or if he had been born in New York. He was too young to understand the difference when his parents were still alive. And he was curious what she meant by “Twelfth one,” but he didn’t really feel inclined to ask when he had already asked one question that he wasn’t sure would be answered in a satisfactory answer. It seemed to him that the Doctor wasn’t good at explaining in full - she certainly had a flair for mystery at the very least. And then she told him to hold on and he just had time to grab the nearest thing to him - part of the console of the ship - before it felt like they were moving. Really moving, although he had no idea how that was possible when they were in a box that didn’t seem to have a motor of any sort, or anything that could have pulled it. And it didn’t seem like they were moving any direction in particular either. “I don’t think ya gotta have a hat to be magic,” Crutchie replied with a shrug. “Not that you’d ever tell me the truth if you was, but if I didn’t know no better I would’ve thought you were fae.” He still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t. But if she was… well, she was the nicest fae he’d ever heard of. Except perhaps for the fact that she might be in the process of kidnapping him. “We’re… here already?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. It didn’t seem possible. Yet… he took a step forward, preparing to be amazed.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Sept 9, 2019 14:39:38 GMT -5
"I do know where I've been," said The Doctor, then hesitated, tilting her head and added, "In the last year. Ish. Mostly. And I know parts of the rest of it. There are just ... gaps." That didn't answer Crutchie's question. Maybe she had intended not to. But either way, she didn't actually know the reason. She suspected it was the regeneration. Some effect from it. She had fuzzy recollection, or knew bits and pieces, and if she focused she could almost remember details. But that meant spending time on things. The memories didn't come easily. So she knew something was up. Unless all her faces had been like that. The thing was, she couldn't remember that either. She seemed to recall them all - wait, never mind. She laughed at the thought she was a fae. "I doubtlessly inspired some of the stories," she said, very modestly. She skipped just a bit behind Crutchie, reaching around him and pushing open the door. "Ta da!" The door opened, revealing trees which were certainly not like New York, coupled with a climate that was not New York. Above were different clouds, over cast sky. Around were conferrer trees. The only sign that anything was here was a very small animal path, winding away from the blue police box. It was almost chilly, the air thick with moisture. "If I was a fae," The Doctor said. "I'd probably be in the right place."
“In the last year?” Crutchie knew there were some people who had memory issues, but he didn’t think there were actually people for whom those memory issues ran as deep as not being able to remember anything before the last year, unless something terribly traumatic had happened. And he knew the hard way that asking about traumatic experiences was more likely to get someone to dislike you than it was to get them to open up. He’d been on the receiving end of the question too many times. So he remained quiet, content to leave the Doctor’s mysteries alone at least for now. Maybe forever, if this was a one time trip. “You inspired stories of the fae?” Crutchie asked, raising an eyebrow. If that was the case, then it certainly meant, by some definition of the word, that the Doctor was a fae. Maybe not in a traditional interpretation, but still… “I suppose I’m glad you don’t have my True Name,” he laughed lightly, though he knew Crutchie was more true to him than any other name he remembered was. He was cut off from his thoughts by the sight of what seemed to be almost out of a picture book. He took a hesitant step into what appeared to be a forest, his breath stolen from him by the wind, or perhaps by the seizing of his heart. It felt, somehow, like he was returning home. “It’s beautiful,” he choked out, pushing forward and placing his hand on the rough bark of a nearby tree. “It’s like…” without thinking, he had switched languages to the Irish of his childhood. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before…” he didn’t know if the Doctor could understand him, but he didn’t know if he cared. He was too wrapped up in what was now in front of him.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Sept 10, 2019 15:46:07 GMT -5
As Crutchie had expected, The Doctor didn't explain more. There were far more things to occupy both of them than wondering about her lapse in memory. She stood by the doorway of the TARDIS, as if she expected to reenter it soon. She didn't, but for a few brief seconds she wanted Crutchie to be the one ahead. So she could watch his expressions. "I believe that idea of the fae might have gotten turned around a bit," she said, voice quiet. She knew when dramatic style could be used and right now she was focusing on their location. "It is beautiful," she agreed, apparently just as aware of how to understand Crutchie no matter what language he was speaking. "Old." Then she shot a glance at Crutchie and seemed to think of something both happy and sad at the same time. She'd wanted to say 'for you', but something stopped her. Maybe it was just the fact that time made things different for the perspective. Maybe not. "You don't have to stay here," she added. "I'm fairly sure the TARDIS would have taken us somewhere near people. She likes the drama." Or rather, the TARDIS had a way of knowing where to go which would be interesting for The Doctor and anyone traveling with her. The Doctor waved a finger off in a completely random direction. "That ways about." She didn't actually know, she'd just pointed in a random direction. In this case along the animal track, because it might at least prove interesting. But she wasn't suggesting very insistently. She knew that Crutchie might want to go somewhere or he might not. She didn't mind either way. The point was she was trying to see if she could figure anything out about the memories she was now sure he was missing. No. Not missing. Replaced. He'd said himself that he remembered everything apart from when he was very young. Maybe those missing memories were the ones that were effected, but it didn't seem right to her. It made her feel just a bit sick that someone would take a bit of someone else's life away like that. If she ever ran into the Time Lord who had done it, there would be words. But she felt uncomfortable with the idea of telling Crutchie that at some point someone had fabricated a bit of his life. To him, that part was real. She had no right to tell him that it wasn't. Yet the missing memories were just as much his as well. Complicated moral obligations aside, Crutchie was here and had requested a ride. "Unless you wanted somewhere else," said The Doctor with a grin. "I don't mind. Your trip, remember."
Crutchie nodded, but it was odd to think that his people’s folklore may have all been based around one woman, and that it was changed so much to reflect the area and the times that she was almost unrecognizable from the creatures she had inspired. It was interesting, hearing about a possible origin for the stories that had made up so much of the childhood he remembered. “I don’t see you to be the type who steals children in the night, but I can see you insisting on honesty, but using tricky language to do that,” he replied, still looking out at the world that was so different from everything he knew. He wanted to run through the forest, but he couldn’t. His leg was a hindrance he was dying to ignore… yet it was there, still attached to him and still inconvenient. Without asking how the Doctor knew which way was right, he took off in that direction, as though it was the only way that made sense. “I want to see what it’s like here!” He knew the language he was speaking would be slightly different from the dialect spoken here, but he wasn’t too worried about it. Irish hadn’t changed too much to make conversation impossible - at least he hoped it hadn’t. He could feel the Doctor behind him, looking at him as though there was something wrong, as though she was still searching for those memories he was supposedly missing. He didn’t want her to be right, but he couldn’t account for the fact that he wasn’t terrified by the TARDIS. He didn’t know how to explain why he wasn’t scared so much as excited. Perhaps it was just the novelty of it. “I’m gonna go the way you suggested,” he murmured in response, not daring to look back at her or the TARDIS or anything that would stop him from discovering the place that his parents came from - that had been in his blood for so long that this still felt like home. He wanted to see the towns that had been described to him in detail, and he wanted to know the scents his parents had grown up with, and he wanted… well, he wanted to experience something that wasn’t as stuffy and crowded as New York was. He knew that this was Ireland a long time before his family was even a wink in anyone’s eye, but still… he felt a connection to it, like where he was from ran deep into the soil long before he was even born. “What area is this?” He asked, turning to look at the Doctor. He was starting to get nervous - they hadn’t made it very far, but the fact was that he didn’t know what to expect and he didn’t hear the familiar sounds of a city yet. “Wait… they won’t think I’m cursed, will they?” Suddenly he was aware that his clothing was quite modern and his crutch was something that may cast suspicion on him. Yet he didn’t want to turn around. He wanted to keep going, to see what it felt like he was tied in to seeing. And despite how much the Doctor had forgotten, she was the expert here. Crutchie trusted her, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Perhaps it was because she had been kind without pitying him. And she had brought him here, after all.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Sept 11, 2019 20:56:08 GMT -5
Crutchie wasn't completely wrong about the honesty thing. She could be a bold-faced liar somedays too, but she wasn't so inclined this time she didn't think. She followed after Crutchie as he moved along the path that her pointing finger had illustrated. She cast one look back at the TARDIS and then turned her attention back to the path. She wasn't sure how close they were to any nearby towns or villages, but she was confident that they'd find one soon. "I'm not completely sure," she said. "But I think we're somewhere near where modern day Galway is." She glanced at the trees, like they held the answers. "I didn't check before we left the TARDIS." She was biting her lip, but not in a way that Crutchie would see. She wasn't sure, actually. Most of Ireland was grass. She'd be more reassured when they got out of these trees and she could really confirm the TARDIS hadn't sidetracked them. She did think it was probably Galway though. She just wasn't sure when. Old. But it was satisfying to know that Crutchie was happy with the destination. She shook her head at his second question. "Doubt it. Say ya're from the next clan over and they likely wont ask questions. That's saying they ask questions in the first place. People tend to be too busy to. If ya look like ya're supposed to be there in particular." She nodded at his clothing. "Could change, if ya wanted to. But that means heading back to the TARDIS. But as I said, ya should be fine." She waved down at her own outfit. It was odd compared to what Crutchie usually saw as well. "I go everywhere in this and you'd be surprised how few comments I get. But looking the part for history is always fun." Her accent was thicker when she said that. She was glad that when she looked up again, she was met with a few of the trees thinning out. Beyond was grey skies and grass and hills. She grinned. "Oh look. We're here." She skipped forward, like an excited child, glancing back at Crutchie like she was waiting for him to see it too. There were small buildings clustered away from the trees, probably using them as a windbreak. The distant shapes of people could just be seen.
“You didn’t check?” Crutchie asked, as though that was one of the more ridiculous things he had ever heard. Perhaps it was because he was so used to always knowing where he was - he didn’t ever enter a place in New York he wasn’t familiar with because he could easily be pegged as a criminal or simply as a good-for-nothing and tossed into some sort of holding cell because the rich didn’t want people like him on the streets. Of course that wasn’t a risk everywhere that was unfamiliar to him, but it was always better to be safe than sorry and really only go where he knew he would be relatively safe. It made exploring and getting out of the same few blocks in Manhattan difficult, but he had long ago given up the idea of ever having a life where he could go wherever he pleased without issue. Although he did suppose that where he lived was probably better than living somewhere that would hate him because his disability supposedly meant he had been “cursed by the fae” or whatever. He supposed that was something to be worried about now that he was here, but it really was far too late to turn back. “Seems to me towns are often small enough out here that there’s no guarantee that they won’t just recognize a stranger,” he replied, though he did know the Doctor was probably more of an expert than he was. And he had only ever lived in a city huge enough that there was never any shortage of places to hide if he didn’t want to be recognized. “Though I can certainly try to pretend I belong. Shouldn’t be too hard, that’s how ya get people to buy papes when you sell in fancier neighborhoods where the Bulls patrol.” He seemed awfully proud of himself as he said it, then seemed to realize that the Doctor was probably in a position where she could report him for that and easily have him thrown in the Refuge. He was about to say something, ask her not to repeat that, please, but the words were sucked out of his had once he looked up and saw the buildings that the Doctor had noticed a few seconds before he had. It was… well, it was unlike anything he had ever seen before. “They’re so small,” he murmured, though not meaning to be offensive. It was just that everything in New York was huge, and the very point of many of the buildings was to reach the sky. There was none of that here. “There are people!” he gasped, breaking into a grin. “Real people! And they don’t look that different from the people I see back home, which… I guess makes sense but I never really thought about it that way,” he admitted. “I guess I never really thought they were real people.”
Post by mintedstar/fur on Sept 16, 2019 23:08:52 GMT -5
"Believe it or not," said The Doctor. "I've always enjoyed a bit of a mystery. And I trust the TARDIS." She always ended up in hot water wherever she went, so when did knowing her exact location ever help? (Well ... a lot of the time, but that was besides the point. It was about the mystery.) Still, she understood Crutchie's wariness at the new setting. She couldn't help glancing around and wondering if there was a better way to set his mind at ease. But she finally just decided that practical interactions would be better. "Oh, they're real all right," said The Doctor. Then she sort of bounced in place before saying, "Lets go meet them!" Then she started walking in that direction, as bold as brass, without any second thought to it. She glanced back at Crutchie once to see if he was following before she walked past the treeline. She seemed perfectly confident in herself. Despite her reassurances towards Crutchie, she knew that there really was no set reaction they might have. She'd just expected that there would be one. As she approached, she pulled to a halt as soon as she reached the first house. She glanced up, noting that the roof almost met her head. That was saying something, since she wasn't that tall. Crutchie made a point about the houses. Her attention was caught by the nearest person. She waited a second, then greeted, "Morning!" Then she looked up. "Evening. Correction." It took a very lengthy second, but there was a muttered, "Evening," right back. The Doctor cast a grin back at Crutchie as if that proved everything. She wasn't into the observing in the trees. She much preferred this. She slowly walked down the 'street', which was really just the space between houses in this small village. She glanced at people and they stared at her. Some of them at least seemed content to look away if she talked to them. There was one thing to her madness. Everyone had already stared at her, so actually didn't have much reason to stare at Crutchie. The Doctor pulled up and said to him, "Anything you wanted to do?" Her voice was quiet.
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Cloudy Sky: Seeing the name gave me flashbacks to certain events that happened about two weeks ago.
Jun 22, 2021 4:51:35 GMT -5
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