singillatim | open to all~

[ Traveling from Milton to Lakeside in the midst of a fog that likes to suffocate and occasionally burn anyone caught in it probably wasn't the smartest idea, but Daisy's a hero and they aren't always known for making the smart decisions. When so many had made the first journey to the resort, she'd stayed behind out of concern for those left behind, but also fear that her powers might suddenly return and put others in danger. An earthquake in a mining tunnel would be a recipe for nothing short of disaster, after all. But now that she knows how unlikely that is to happen...

Well, she's never been able to stay in one place for long, and she could really use the distraction from how much she really misses computers that work. And the internet — fuck, she misses the internet. The only work she can throw herself into without it is trying to gather as much information as she can about this place, so that might as well include Lakeside.

As she nears what feels like the thirtieth hour of traveling and finally makes it to her destination, the fog begins to swoop in again, the previously clear day quickly becoming a distant memory. ]

Oh, hell no. [ Pinpointing a building in the distance, she makes a run for it, though the fog moves faster and she's gasping for air by the time she flings herself through the front door. There's a man inside, an arrival from last month she'd never properly met, and as she leans against the nearest wall, she shakes her head. ]

I'm okay. [ Just a little winded. Shrugging off the stuffed-full purple backpack she carries everywhere, she pulls down the grey scarf from over her mouth, tucking it back into her ugly plaid coat before giving him a slightly skeptical look. ] The Doctor? That's a title, not a qualification.

A name, actually! One could be Doctor so-and-so, let's go with Doctor Shaw — good friend of mine, actually, dear Liz — where was I? Yes, Doctor — they can be anywhere on the spectrum from medical to academic. One could doctor someone up, or more odiously, doctor up information. Broad applications in those two syllables, but in my case, it really is just a name, the one I chose, or what they call me, rather.

[ Yes, hello, new person who's just come in from what was undoubtedly not the most pleasant of experiences. Meet this absolute weirdo (who really means well).

As he winds down from his hurried chatter, collects his breath, and remembers he actually has company who might prefer a moment to collect herself, he quickly pivots and queries her gently. ]

And who do I have the pleasure of meeting and keeping away from the fog with?

[ The Doctor, at least, prefers to think of it as keeping away rather than hiding, mostly because he doesn't fear it so much as he's forced to accept his physiological limitations in this world; limitations he's never had to contend with before. He's the stubborn sort and it will be a battle against his instincts to stay in here, even knowing the threat out there; people could be in trouble, for one. That's always his first concern. Alongside that is his desire to study it if he can, however he can. He also, quite simply, just gets restless when trapped in a small space for very long. But lucky (or not?) for them both now, he has company to occupy his mind! ]

[ He's not the only one with a mind that's always active and in need of something to do. Back home there's always something: a mission to go on, code to rewrite, research to be done... And in the rare moments when she ran out of all of those, there were internet rabbit holes to fall down, videogames to beat, and teammates to bond with. She misses all of those things desperately in this place where her research is stored in a battered notebook instead of a tablet and her only teammate is the housemate she trusts to have her back.

The one I chose is the part of his ramble that sticks with her, and as frustrating or even annoying as some might find his manner, she finds it endearing. He reminds her a bit of FitzSimmons in those early months when they'd been young, slightly socially awkward scientists eager to see the world and make great discoveries. So when he asks her for her name, she smiles at the way he phrases the question, appreciating it more than he could know. ]

Daisy. Daisy Johnson. [ She tugs her gloves off and stuffs them into the front pocket of the backpack, using that brief moment to decide to share a piece of herself, as well. ] I chose my name too. Sort of.

Daisy Johnson.

[ He repeats her name with a slightly melodic lilt to his voice, a hint of delight at knowing. Everyone is important to him, so he finds the occasion of meeting someone new to be significant. Perhaps just an ordinary blip in the span of most people's lives before they carry on meeting other people and having other adventures, but not so for him. At least, not now, not these days. People known to him — whether for one day or years upon years — are held with reverence inside of him.

Just as important as a person is their name, of course, and he's particularly interested in the fact that she chose hers. That's a shared detail he's rarely come across, finding that most people had a name given to them by someone else. ]

You're the first Daisy Johnson I've known in the whole of the universe, and that alone is interesting enough, but you chose it, now you've got my extra attention. We're here for a bit, so — do tell! Wait — actually, you had the scarf over your mouth so you should be fine, but if you saw any of that green fog out there and breathed it in, do tell me if you start to feel a sharp pain in your lungs.

[ And then he quickly goes from ominous back to curious. ]

Now! Please, carry on. [ He gives her a little wave of his hand and playful bow, slightly fidgety even as he stands mostly still. ]

[ There's something in the way he says her name that first time that makes her of the first time she said it. Testing the name, trying it on, deciding it isn't so bad... And trying not to show just how delighted she was to finally know it at all after a lifetime of wondering.

She makes a bit of a face at the mention of the green fog, indicating her distaste and overall doneness with all of this bullshit. As if the Darkwalker isn't bad enough, they also have to worry about the air outside trying to kill them? What a load of bullshit. But his quick shift back to wanting to know about her leaves her smiling in almost affectionate amusement. ]

Why don't we sit down or something first? [ She's managing to catch her breath again, but it's still been a long trip to get here. Which— ] Where are we, anyway? The fog came in too first for me to tell.

Oh, right! Yes — sitting, good idea. You should catch your breath a moment. Here, sit, sit, please.

[ He softens and settles a bit, focusing more on her now and the reality that she'd been caught out in the fog and had to hurry and find shelter. Perhaps a moment to sit and rest would be quite appreciated. He rolls up the sleeves of his own uniquely colored coat and gestures for her to have a seat in the small wooden chair closer to the fire. Accommodations are sparse here, but he's spent a bit of time attempting to make it comfortable. He starts putting water on to boil as well, before looking back at her question. ]

This cabin is precisely located thirty degrees southwest of the lake. At a brisk pace on a good day when the fog isn't being an absolutely terrible host, you could be standing right at the shore of the lake in forty five paces or less, depending on the angle and broadness of your steps. It's actually quite lovely to look at when our surroundings allow it. [ He pauses and, with gentle softness, asks — ] Are you warm enough? You'll have hot tea in less than ten minutes.

[ She takes the seat without protest, setting her backpack on the floor beside her, and unzips her coat so some of the heat from the fire can get in. The chill from the fog is still deep within her bones, but she can still try to enjoy the fire despite this place trying to freeze her to death. ]

I'll be fine. [ The assurance is offered without petulance; she isn't brushing him off, she really will be fine. ] Tea would be nice, though. Thank you.

[ Taking a moment to look around the room, she considers the description he's given her of their location. It, too, reminds her of FitzSimmons, but there's something else in it that also reminds her of Enoch. It's just a hunch, but so long as she phrases the question correctly, she should be able to get to the root of what she wants to know. ] Where are you from? You have a very distinct way of speaking.

[ There's another wooden chair on the opposite side of the small woodstove and he could easily sit there — should sit, probably — but sometimes it takes him extra long to talk himself into actually...not moving. Staying still.

As she looks around, she'll notice a few other bits and bobs, some basic life-sustaining supplies like scraps of food and water, a blanket. Otherwise, he's not very used to having to look after himself like this so it hardly looks lived in and he's only just made his way over to Lakeside. He's a wanderer, an explorer, still trying to get used to the idea of having a home base anywhere at all that isn't his TARDIS.

Kneeling close to the fire to watch over the kettle boiling, he wrings his hands together at her question. It should be an easy response, but he takes his time edging himself towards an answer he feels comfortable with. When he speaks, he looks over at her, an expression of mixed emotions on his face; sad, wistful, a little hopeful. ]

I was a tiny little blip of life in the constellation of Kasterborous in Mutter's Stellian Spiral Galaxy. The Milky Way, as you might know it. But for most of my life, I've been from and within and across and part of...everywhere in the universe. Well, nearly everywhere — there's always a bit left to explore, isn't there? Like this place.

[ In a place like this, it's hard to judge someone for not having a cozy place filled with knickknacks and the detritus of personal life. Their supplies are limited, and it seems like none of them ever arrive with much in the way of possessions. And what they do find...

Her question bothers him. Or perhaps it's not the question but the answer, something about his past tugging at threads he'd rather be left untouched. She's tempted to pull it back and declare he doesn't need to talk about it, but then he answers and her suspicions are confirmed.

Something in her softens and aches at the sadness she sees in him, and what she assumes must be a longing for the life he's been torn away from. She knows how that feels, and she can't not feel compassion for someone else who misses being out among the stars. ]

Yeah, there is. [ Lifting her cold hands, she cups them around her mouth and breathes before rubbing them together, trying to force some warmth down into her frozen joints. When she speaks again, that compassion shines through. ] I could tell you aren't from Earth. There's a little something... I'm sorry you're trapped here. This can't be easy for someone who travels like that.

[ That flicker of sadness in his eyes — he's never quite aware of it poking through, he always thinks he guards it well. But on occasions where even he does realize he's let some of it slip out, he tries to spin it quickly with extra cheerfulness. No one need linger in his shadows for long. He wants people around him to be happy, he wants to make them happy — well, as happy as anyone can reasonably be here, of all places. If there's a burst of light and hope to be found, he'll be tugging it through the dark to share with everyone else. ]

Something strange, I know, I know, don't worry, you're not the first to say it. Or see it. [ He smiles then to reassure. And, at least, he assumes that his general eccentricity is probably what gave him away. The way he never quite fits with others in the expected way. ]

I'm sorry any of us are trapped here. But we'll be okay, we'll manage through this and get home. [ He'll make sure of it (he thinks). It's his duty of care, he feels, to ensure everyone's safety as much as he can. The kettle goes off, and he's quick to get the tea going for her. It certainly won't be the best tasting, but it's warm, and while it steeps, he hands the mug to her, giving a little nod. ]

That's not my best work, but it is the best we're trapped in a strange world and fog is currently trying to kill us tea. Might need to rethink the name. [ He smiles a little and finally sits, folding his hands together. ] What were you doing that you got stuck out in it like that? Exploring?

[ Ensuring everyone here gets home is something Daisy is also determined about. Protecting others is what she does, and even though she isn't sure that she will be able to join them, that just makes her even more determined to help the others. No matter what or how long it takes, these people are going home.

She tugs her gloves off while he assembles the tea for her, accepting the mug gratefully and nearly sighing in relief as the warmth begins seeping into her frozen bones. That fog really does make the cold so much worse than it had been when she first arrived.

His rambly tea name tugs a smile out of her, and she nods at his question. ] I wasn't able to join the others when they first came to Lakeside, and I wanted to see what was here for myself. Since we don't know if or when this fog will clear out, I figured why wait?

Well. [ He's quick to smile if only because that sort of attitude also sounds quite familiar. Although he'd outwardly make an attempt to insist that he's the careful type who always approaches everything with a well-thought out plan while in fact, he's anything but. ] We have that line of thought in common.

I tend to drift around in the general vicinity of the unknown as a general course of affairs. Give me the question marks and the queries with no answers any day. Why wait — precisely. Why wait, why not, let's do, let's go — my favorite sorts of words. Of course, sometimes all that exploring winds me up in situations going a bit...tilted.

[ Trouble, he means. But still lacks a general sense of how often he really does find himself in trouble. Even lacking all of his enhanced senses and abilities, when he should be as unsettled as anyone, he'll never stop believing he can get them out of here. He doesn't fear much, more the point. Probably should but — he'll be the first to run headlong toward anything going wrong. ]

And you — you run towards it, do you? When things go wrong, I mean. People in danger, people to be helped.

open to all~

two —

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject