oswinforthewin | ( impossible darkness ) noir nights.

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( impossible darkness ) noir nights.

DUE TO DELAYS THE 7:00PM BUS IS CANCELLED. PLEASE REROUTE.

Annabell sighed in irritation, looking at the watch on her wrist. For all the advancements The Conclave spoke of? Things were constantly breaking down. Still, they were led to believe this was life as normal. Only those from The Belly (as it was oh so affectionately called) knew different. She had been born in The Belly, and when she saw the world up above for the first time? She couldn't believe it. Now it made her skin crawl, but she had to keep the role up.

Even if she did miss teaching.

Her legs uncrossed and Annabell pushed herself up from the bench in the bus station. She straightened her dress and grabbed her coat. From the pockets she pulled out a small case of cigarettes and started to light it. It would be a long walk back to her apartment, so she might as well enjoy herself. Maybe she'd see some of the sights on her way back. It was a dream of hers as she chased the imaginary amber leaves that they said fell from real trees in the fall. A dream that soured and dried up when she finally got to the surface.

She almost regretted the decision to move upwards. Regrets, bitterness, and cheap wine was the life that Annabell lived, when she wasn't singing for the people she couldn't stand. They said she was a rising star in the music scene. Not that she cared. Her dark red lipstick stained the end of the cigarette as she shrugged on her coat. All she hoped for at the moment was that some fan wouldn't find her. Unless, of course, they wanted to offer her a ride home.

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Maybe. If he really knew Clara Oswald. Did he? How much about the girl nicknamed The Impossible Girl did he actually know? That'd answer his question. Not the bigger one he had, but, the one he had about all the different Claras being the same.

An eyebrow perked up at his apparently use of manners. Someone had to have them these days, she supposed. Even if he did like running into women at night. "Lovely isn't the word I would use for it." Lovely would mean things would work right and she could get 'home.'

"Everyone here is from here." Annabell eyed him. Was he one of those secret agents from the Conclave? Someone made to make sure that everyone fit right where they were supposed to?

Time to change the subject. "Doctor isn't a name, its a title you earn. Should I be asking 'a doctor of what?' Or, maybe: 'Doctor Who?" She paused. "I imagine that is a question you like being asked. Doctor Who?"

It was just a hunch she had.

Oh, he always had a liking when that question came up. It was music to his ears! "Sometimes it's fun to hear, yes. And the Doctor will suffice." Her name nearly slipped off the tip of his tongue with his reply, but he caught himself just in time.

"And where are you going this evening Miss Nyghtngale?" Her time line lit up in front of him, there were a few choices she could take, but none quite made sense beyond 'home'.

"It's a bit late out, innit?"

"I'm sorry. That is a title here that is earned - not freely given." Annabell said with a quirky tone. She had known a very, very good doctor. The title of "doctor" on this planet was hard earned and well deserved. So far she hadn't seen much to call him that.

Miss Nyghtngale was still so strange to hear. It was just a part she played. She really wasn't the woman she pretended to be. That didn't mean she couldn't sell it of course. After all, he was going along with it.

"Home," she replied as she turned a corner. "Traffic and cancellations. It makes things hard on a woman who lives on the other side of town. Wouldn't you agree?"

A stream of thing smoke left her lips as she glanced up at him. "What about you? Do you often take long runs at night and run into unsuspecting women?"

Edited 2014-07-30 02:18 (UTC)

Oh, he had earned it, that was the secret. Time and time over again he's earned it. If only she knew...

"...And if I said yes?" He raised an eyebrow, half amused at her disprovable of him. Was the Clara he knew this judgmental? He couldn't possibly think so, or she was a good actress.

"Tell me," He straightens up, pocketing his hands deep within his jacket, "What do you know of the Belly? Been there?" His guess was no, given her posh dress and the way she carried herself.

Despite her best efforts, Annabell felt a bit of a smirk tug at her face. It was strange. She felt at ease around him. Almost like she should of known who he was just off the way he walked. Had she met him before? He felt familiar.

"Then I might say you've made me curious. However, just a tiny bit curious."

Being an actress was all it was about for this Clara; this particular ghost. It was why when he mentioned The Belly, her eyes flicked up to him and she paused a half-fraction in her step. It would of been a question that anyone would strike up to make conversation. The Belly was seen as mythical - an urban legend. Not many believed in it, unless you were a kid. The people from the Belly were very, very good at hiding their origins. Friends in high places and the like.

"It doesn't exist." she said after a moment. That brief moment of comfort she felt was suddenly replaced by an anxiety. "An urban legend made by children who wish to see a world underneath the world they know. A typical fantasy that is later replaced by reality."

Annabell bit the inside of her lip before turning her head to look at her sudden walking companion. "What do you know of it?"

"Oh, of course it exists!" Although this place has done a really good job at hiding it from others, and keeping it on lock down. "Perhaps a governmental secret of some sort, but it exists."

He wasn't willing to divulge exactly why he was to go there, which was silly given it was from someone he hasn't seen in a long time and... Well, there was history behind that, and one he wasn't entirely sure how to interpret.

"In those dark alleys you're afraid to explore, or a bus route you didn't know existed, or a speakeasy's boiler room with a set of stairs leading you elsewhere... Oh, but it's there, Clara."

And then name slipped out before he could stop himself, and he blinked.

"I'm rather sure that it does not exist." The insistent tone was laced with a layer of anger, but then Annabell's mind came to a full screeching halt.

Was that what it felt like to be struck by lightning? All the hairs on her neck standing up, being unable to move? Her eyes widened and for the first time in a very, very, long time? Annabell felt frightened. No one in the city knew her name. Absolutely no one. Yet he did. Somehow this man she had never seen before in her life knew it. Despite the fear pumping through her veins, Annabell raised her eyebrows. She'd fallen out of step with him, left hanging a few feet back by his long strides.

"How'd you know that name?" The accent had slipped away and her speech patterns changed. Not to mention the fear that filtered into her voice. "No one knows that name. How'd you find it? Who told you? Is this some sort of stupid test you've lot put together to make sure I'm still doing my job?"

Edited 2014-07-31 07:57 (UTC)

"Yeeeahhhh..." He's standing there awkwardly rubbing at his ear lobe, "I'm sorry, you look like a friend of mine..." Then he pauses and quickly drops his hand, "What? What do you mean 'how did I find it'? What's that suppose to mean?"

Now he was curious, confused, but really really curious. He wanted to ask what is it that she wasn't telling him, but he had to remember she wasn't his Clara.

Her head shook slightly at him, those vintage curls swaying side to side. Apparently he wasn't from the Belly sent to check up on her progress? Then just who the hell was he? There was absolutely no way he just happened to know another woman by the name of 'Clara' who looked like her. Otherwise she would of been found out ages ago.

She took a half step back. This was properly terrifying. It felt like she suddenly had no control on the situation and that was what she didn't like. A card had been played on the metaphoric table that she had never, ever expected.

"That name. Where did you hear it?" Annabell demanded. It's my name. My real, actual, proper name.

"My friend; she looks rather a lot like you." He was berating himself for the slip up. Really? He's exactly how old and had never done that before?

Stupid!

Holding up his hands in defense, "I mean you no harm, I swear it. I just need to get to the Belly." He had a feeling this wasn't going well, and might have to show her the TARDIS.

Brown eyes that were done up all smokey like narrowed at him, "Your friend looks like me and has got the same name? I might be a lounge singer, but I'm not stupid." She paused. "I told you that the Belly doesn't exist. What makes you think it does?"

Annabell didn't bother to put her second accent or persona back on. Not that he knew her name. Now the question was why he wanted to get to the Belly. People who wanted to get there knew how to. Why didn't he?

Digging in one of his anterior pockets, he pulled out an old black and white photograph of the city with a red arrow pointing downwards with X's and O's underneath. The back of the photo had a bit of flirtatious text that he wasn't quite willing to mention beyond, "Meet me in the belly."

Pocketing it back, he offers her a smile, given she looked like she was still in panic mode, "Whoever you think I am, I'm not; whoever you think I work for, I don't. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. But I wouldn't mind listening to you sing." Insert cheeky grin.

Her eyes remained narrowed as she inspected the photograph. It gave no indication where any entrances to the Belly were. He was just as lost as anyone else looking for a way in. Which was how it was meant to be. How else would they have gone so long without being noticed?

A playful light entered her eyes at his statement. "Sorry, I don't sing for free." It was her cover job. Why would she indulge people with it?

Her fingers flicked the cigarette bud onto the ground and she put it out with the tip of her heels. "And what makes you think that I'd know how to get there?"

"That accent you just changed into gave me a very good suspicion that I'm right about it. You are from there, aren't you?" He leans in slightly forward, now with more curiousity than ever.

"If you don't want to join me, that's fine. But I would like to hear that singing voice of yours." And on that note, he spun and walked away.

"Maybe I'm an actress." Annabell offered an alternative, the corner of her mouth turning into a smirk. "Girls on their own have to find ways to survive in this world."

He leaned in and it felt like something sparked in the back of her mind. Something clicked. Sort of like an answer you'd been chasing all your life was answered without any words or any notion. Almost like the fairytale come to life but you were too afraid to touch it, because what if it disappeared?

Then he walked away.

Annabell rolled her shoulder slightly, turning to walk the opposite way. The flat wasn't far now. Her feet carried her a few steps before she stopped. That sense of clicking nagged at her. If you let him walk away you'll never, ever see him again. He'll be gone just like that. Five minutes ago she would of thought she was going completely mad but, she knew better now.

It was him. The Doctor. Now that name meant everything.

Annabell stepped backwards, turning to face him. In a few running strides she had closed enough of a distance between them so he could hear her talk.

"I think you need to work on your art of seduction." She raised her voice. "For a man who wants to get to the Belly? You really haven't tried hard enough. Want to try that again?"

Edited 2014-08-03 11:23 (UTC)

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, "A change in heart, then?" There was a growing smile upon his features as he slowed his pace for her. "Miss Nyghtngale, if you don't mind, I must meet someone there and request your services to lead me the way."

The truth was, he knew exactly where the entrance was, he was on his way there when he ran into her. Even though his mind raced and he had conflicted feelings over the message, there was even more conflict after finding Clara. She shouldn't exist here, and made things rather confusing, leading him to wanting to know more about her.

"It's going to take more than a few good looks and that bit of swagger in your step to change my heart." Annabell replied briskly, but there was a familiar teasing tone in her voice.

She glanced him over before looking at the watch on her hand. At this rate she wasn't going to get any sleep at all. Not unless she somehow could detour him back to her flat, but she had the distinct feeling that was very much not going to happen.

"Meeting someone?" She repeated. A sly smile touched her face, so very reminiscent of those feme fatales from those old movies. "I bet it is a woman. It always is."

Annabell tilted her head at him to get a better look. There was no intention of telling him just yet that he couldn't get into the Belly without the right piece of technology. Everyone that left the Belly for the top had a chip implanted in their arm. One that would scan and open the way in any of the entrances. She liked to have some sort of an upperhand on the mysterious men that walked into her life.

"There's not much point in me just offering my services for free. What am I going to get out of helping you?"

Edited 2014-08-05 08:30 (UTC)

"It is a woman." What gave it away? The red ink or the X's and O's, he wondered briefly.

At her comment, he raised an eyebrow in her direction. Had Clara said something like that? No.... He couldn't recall now; not with her timeline intertwining and mixing up. "What you get in return..." He purses his lips and ticks his head to the side, "I suppose anything, really. An adventure? A day not having to go to work? Not being bored at home?"

That should suffice, shouldn't it?

Probably the fact he was a tall, lanky and rather good looking bloke. Though, really, he could of just been into theater and had a partner waiting for him down in the Belly. He just didn't scream the theater type to her. She knew plenty of theater blokes given her "job."

Her head tilted at his answer with a smirk on her face. Really? That was the best he had to offer? "You're really bad at wooing a woman, aren't you? Try again."

Alright then, she challenged that. With one arm, he catches her around the middle, swings her around precisely 89.4 degrees, bends down and cups her cheek and pulls her into a chaste kiss.

Hey, it was the best move he has on a short time's notice. She dared him, after all. By now he wanted to be dashing down the stairs (most likely not) to the Belly.

Annabell was about to protest at the dip, because this really wasn't the time or place for it. But that sweet and kind chaste kiss sent some sort of bell off in her head. One that made this whole situation feel more real than anything she had done so far in her life. How stupid was that to say?

With a few blinks she filed that feeling away for a later time.

"This woman of yours is very, very lucky. I think I might be almost jealous of her." Annabell glanced up at the hat on his head before tapping the brim down with the edge of her finger.

With a deep sigh, Annabell knew she had to help him. Not because of the kiss--but that did tip a few things in his favor. "The farthest you're going to be getting into the Belly without me is at the door. They won't let just anyone in. Once you're in, you're under my name and my reputation."

Her eyes darted down to his shoes. "Don't mess it up, Converse Boy."

He'd agree, only he wasn't sure what River's intentions were or why she wanted him here. Was it something to do with Clara? Or was this just a fluke?

He didn't even know who she was, exactly.

And with her comment, he grinned far too smugly, "I'm not just anyone. Now kindly lead the way!" He was itching to reach his destination.

"You're a bloke who has got nothing on his bones and relies a bit too much on his good looks to get anywhere." She perked her eyebrows up, challenging him to disagree with her. Then she smoothed her coat over before turning right and heading down the crosswalk.

Annabell glanced behind her to make sure he was following. Her thumb rubbed over the inside of her wrist where the chip was, knowing what was going to happen. It seemed like so much to risk on the off chance that the man who called himself Doctor would actually help, but somehow she knew he would.

It was just a walk down the street before the dame stopped in front of a club. Annabell climbed the last few steps and put her hand on the door, looking back at the Doctor. "Follow my lead. Unless you want to end up arrested on your first tour."

"Good looks, eh?" He's highly amused at this comment, and perhaps it's put a pep in his step as a result.

He complies, following her and watching her sway as she moved. This was indeed Clara, the demeanor was all there, though perhaps with more sass; not that he was complaining. He fixes his brown long coat and straightens his tie before moving to meet her side. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Don't let it get to your head. I don't think you've got enough room for a bigger ego." There might of been a playful smirk handed to him with that statement too.

She swung the door open and stepped into the lobby, instantly being greeted by the smell of cigarettes and the ambience of a speakeasy. Funny given it was apparently a legitimate establishment. She leaned forward to glance around, finding the man in the tuxedo. One finger raised and she beckoned him over.

"Ah, Miss Nyghtngale. You are unusually early for your monthly visit. Are you going out of town again for business?"

"I am afraid so." Annabell slipped back into that previous accent. She flicked her hair over her shoulder before turning and gesturing to the Doctor. "With such short notice, I hope you have room for the two of us."

The waiter eyed the pair. "Another companion, miss?"

"Business partner." She replied quickly. "I hope you don't mean to imply that I would deal with a married man, Jules."

He shook his head and pulled out a key with a white tassel attached to the bottom. Annabell smiled at him and took the key, heading straight for the staircase that went upwards. "Thank you, Jules. Have a good evening."

"The same to you, Miss Nyghtngale. The best of luck on your business trip."

( impossible darkness ) noir nights.

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