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Post by Rose Tyler on Jan 7, 2013 13:03:45 GMT -5
Rose Marion Tyler looked around the city of aldeon. She was still curious as to how she got here but she didn't think it was a bad thing. She had already met a girl named Jenny who was really interesting. Rose would just have to explore this place, investigate it like a torchwood agent would, like how the doctor would. Rose really hoped to find the doctor here. She knew it was possible because she had found out that there were people from other universes here. She had that slim chance to find her doctor again.
Rose let out a sigh and shook her head. She couldn't think like that right now. She needed to keep her head clear and help figure out how to put a stop to this, how to send here and everyone home safely. That's what the doctor would do and that's what torchwood would do. Rose liked the small city to be honest. It was peaceful.
The young blond woman still wore the clothes that she had come here in. She really didn't have time to change her attire to blend in more. Being a time traveller, Rose usually never blended in when she was with the Doctor.
Rose stopped in the market place and started looking around. She loved seeing the things that people had made, like the jewelry. She smiled at the person selling and then continued on her way. Rose stopped when she reached a tree. The young blond woman sled as she leaned against the tree. Her smile faded though when she realized that she was all alone here. She wished that her family or at least Mickey, someone she knew was here with her.
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 9, 2013 22:25:04 GMT -5
Sherlock was perplexed beyong even his own comprehension. This place, it was barren. It was not London, oh no, and it was bleaker than... Well, John had said something about some Dickens' novel that had sparked a comparison, but Sherlock thought it silly to remember useless things like that; his attic of a mind ought to be better organized than that. He realized then how utterly bored he was, having no one with whom to associate and no cases to mull over in place of playing his (no longer existant) violin. He hated this.
And while he could cope, no problem, Sherlock wanted to go back to his flat. To 221B Baker Street. It was where he belonged, and where he desired to spend all the time he could manage. Damn whoever had sent him here. It was like a punishment to his brilliant mind.
He saw someone then, someone different from all the rest, and his first instincts--his deductions--kicked in immediately. She was young, she was lost, and she was from the same time as he. And by the looks of it, she was disappointed. He went to her, having nothing better than that to do, and struck the most pathetic conversation he could, because that was all he could do. Though his deductions never failed to impress, he was still a sociopath.
"Missing someone?" he asked, his face and tone resembling not much more than a rock. |
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