Mirrors - AU RP for alainn_aislinn

[thecricketer]

The Doctor is fairly certain he is going to crash.

He is, honestly, more worried about his ship than himself, and desperately tries to steady her as they rip through Time and Space and something else entirely, something he can't quite discern. Her distress pricks his mind like needles, and his fingers are going numb on the controls.

Eventually he realises that he's done all he can, and simply holds on.

When he opens his eyes he's still more or less upright, and those his swiftly beating hearts echo the state of the TARDIS, she is undamaged. With a quiet sight of relief he straightens, and crosses over to the doors.

He isn't sure where he is, and there's really only one way to find out.

Well. One proper way.

Comments

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

"You're welcome." She looked amused again, flashing someone a smile enough to get him to get off his barstool so she could perch on it, sipping her beer.


ooc: *curls up on you*

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

He chuckled softly.

"You're very persuasive," he said, taking another sip. There was, after all, only one way to grow used to the taste after...oh, who knew how many decades, centuries.

It would never be his favourite drink, but it wasn't...unpleasant. He might even allow the alcohol to affect him.

((*holds and snuggles* How are you?))

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

She arched an eyebrow at that. "You have no idea...." She got the feeling this other her hadn't shown him much of what she could do.

Stupid girl.

((Meh. Having a depressed day and trying to convince self not to just delete journals? It's been an urge for a few weeks now. I thought I was over it.))

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"Not very much, no," he admitted, and his lips quirked slightly.

"Hmm, I'm not very likely to admit that, usually."

((*hugs you* All of them? Some? I can give you tons of reasons not to either way.))

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

Aislinn laughed. "Is that a point in my favor?"

((All of them. Some of them. Maybe just pull from comms and leave them to languish. Maybe just hiatus. Maybe delete them and run away. Meh. I don't know. I never used to have these urges. Still probably part of the sick))

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

He raised his glass to her, a faint, soft smirk turning his lips, glinting in his eyes.

((Maybe just going on hiatus for a while will help, until you feel better?))

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

For the first time, she looked truly intrigued, not by his story, not by this other her, but just by him.

((Meh. Maybe. But then I'd get emo 'cause no one would miss me or something. *wry* I get emotional when ill.))

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

He set the drink down, smirk softening into an encouraged smile.

"I know a great deal." It wasn't bragging, simply a statement of fact.

"When I don't, I tend to pretend and work it out as I go. My friends feel reassured, my enemies don't realise I've no idea what I'm doing."

((Well. The lot of us will simply have to say how much we love you and your pups.))

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

"That's a dangerous little fact to give me, when you don't know what we shall be," she said with a quirk of her eyebrow.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"I would never consider you an enemy," he said plainly, "in this universe or any other."

He paused, fingers tracing seemingly random designs on the glass.

"If you consider me such, then...well. I'm sure I'll come up with something." A different sort of gleam in his eyes, older.

"I've managed for quite some time, after all."

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

She seemed entranced by his fingers, watching them move, tracing the patterns with her eyes.

"That's almost worth the challenge."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"Almost?" he said lightly; his fingers were moving more deliberately now, the same movements traced over eachother.

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

She tried to decipher them, caught almost by the curiosity.

"It might not be worth the bother."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

His hand paused, eyes widening with feigned, hurt indignation.

"I can promise you I'm never boring, at the very least."

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

"I bet you can be tiresome," she said, glancing up at him through lowered lashes.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"On occasion, I'm sure," he said, drawing back damp finger to run through his hair.

"I'd like to think it's worth it."

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

"I can hardly judge that yet, can I?"

Not recognizing the symbols irritated her a bit, and she took a long drink of her ale

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

His lips quirked slightly at her irritation, the smile warming at her curiosity.

"No, I suppose not." He nodded towards the glass, and the flowing letters already beginning to obscure; perhaps naturally, perhaps not.

"My language."

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

"And why were you tracing it on your glass?" There was suspicion there. Spells could be accomplished that way, though she hadn't felt any magic being used.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"I wanted to be enigmatic?" he suggested, smiling brightly.

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

Her eyes narrowed.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

He shook his head; he wanted to ask, lightly, if he was really so suspicious. Or what she thought he could have been writing.

Instead, he spoke plainly, honestly, with a soft voice.

"You know very little about me, which is hardly fair considering. I thought I might offer this at least." And he turned the glass, so that the letters, older than this building, older than the soil it was built on, faced her.

"It's a name. A nickname, really."

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

She tilted her head, studying it, half of her still expecting a spell of some sort, ready to leap out and entrap her.

"I can't read the letters..." Though her fingers traced lightly over them, never quite touching the glass.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"In time there will be very few who can," he said softly. His expression dimmed, an old conflict struggling to hide from his eyes.

He reached out, after a moment, to press her fingers to the glass; it was a light touch, easily broken if she wished. Such was the brush against her mind, as well - a request, nothing more.

[alainn-aislinn.livejournal.com]

She allowed the touch, and pressed them against the glass. Giving access to her mind was more difficult, but he requested when she had a feeling he could have taken.

She allowed that contact, too, holding his eyes with hers.