clara oѕwald. ❛ тнe ιмpoѕѕιвle gιrl. ❜ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oswinforthewin) wrote2014-07-24 10:02 pm
oswinforthewin) wrote2014-07-24 10:02 pm
( 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.
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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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.
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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?"
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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.
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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?"
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"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.
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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?"
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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.
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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?"
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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?
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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."
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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.
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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."
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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.
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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."
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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."
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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."
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Once out of view, he couldn't resist quirking an eyebrow, "Business partner?" And that ever growing smirk grew and grew as they walked on. He was enjoying the music in the background and even for a moment, allowed himself to become distracted by the performance, until he passed through with her.
There were plenty of questions for her, but he would save that for later.
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The landing was lined with doors. Annabell quickly moved to one and inserted the key in it, pushing it open with the tips of her fingers. Beyond the door was a booth that sat above the show below, but a layer of glass stood at the edge of the railing. Double sided glass too to hide what could happen in the booth. How scandalous.
Annabell shrugged her coat off and draped it over the back of the chair. "Well," her natural accent came back. "It looks like it is time to get to work."
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He followed her to the booth, taking cue to also slip his long coat off, and again, "...Get to work?" That certainly earned a raised eyebrow in her direction.