River had been on her own for quite a while after her parents had been taken by the weeping angels in Manhattan, 1938. She’d stopped her detective job and moved along in her life, working with other archaeologists. She had her own team, and things were going well in her favor.
She’d come across her diary one day as she was scattering her belongings from the last trip she’d taken with her team. She always kept it on her, but she refused to read the pages sine Manhattan. She couldn’t kept it that way though.
It seemed childish to neglect something that was so important to her, but it hurt.
Taking a deep breath, River sat in her room for a while, scanning the pages that were filled were her neat scribbles of adventures she had with the Doctor and the sketches she’d done. All of this was gone, wasn’t it? He’d given her his sonic and he seemed much more.. well, off the last time she saw him.
New York in 1938 wasn’t bad though.. despite the whole event itself. It couldn’t be bad.. maybe she had to find the good in the place and time--but not the exact time. She’d keep it distanced between the times she’d visit to avoid any sort of paradox to form. The 40s would have to do, and perhaps she’d go to Brooklyn instead. She’d heard much about it and, well, River wanted to see it for herself. She couldn’t just take others’ words for it. She was pleased when she saw Las Vegas for herself, perhaps she’d be just as pleased with this.
She’d made the few mistakes of traveling back in time whilst wearing her usual clothes. From the 53rd Century. She wouldn’t make that mistake this time though. She quickly changed into something she kept in her wardrobe, for she had all sorts of clothes for these sort of adventures, and luckily she had a dress that was quite fitting for the era. She threw a jacket over it and had gone out of her way to neaten up her wild golden curls into something neat and... well, 40s looking. She never cared to go this far, but she thought it’d be fun.
Instead of keeping her gun strapped to her side as usual, she had a sort of holster on her upper leg beneath the dress she wore to keep it concealed. There was a slit that ran from the bottom of the cloth and up a bit, so if necessary she’d be able to move the fabric to have easy access to the weapon. It never hurt to be too careful.
Flipping open her vortex manipulator she punched in the coordinates quickly before sending herself off to Brooklyn in the 40s. Landing on the side of the street she turned, looking around to all the different people and places in Brooklyn. This wasn’t too bad. She pulled the sleeve of her jacket down to conceal the vortex manipulator before making her way down along the path.
There had to be a party of some sort going on around here or something more exciting, surely. Glancing down to her manipulator, she set coordinates for later, a move of precaution to have set coordinates to escape. Her attention averted to the device, her shoulder bumped into another’s, stumbling back slightly in surprise.
“Oh, so sorry bout that!” River said quickly, looking to the man as sympathy had seeped into her gaze. “I’m ‘fraid I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.. a bit distracted, if you will.” She realized she spoke with her British accent in the middle of Brooklyn in the 40s.. it would cause more attention than she’d like, she realized.
“Bit new here, actually.”