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@futuregal-blog
"You know— children aren’t supposed to be in this building. Is your daddy or mommy on base? Are you lost? I have snacks. Don’t tell anyone, though, I’m not supposed to keep food in here."
"My dad's off somewhere. He left me sitting in some lady's office and told me not to leave but she left to get coffee and I was bored and--" She shrugged. "How old are you anyway? You don't seem old."
“Pretty boring until you meet people like me, I take it,” the Doctor said, perhaps extrapolating a little — but he didn’t think he was wrong. His slightly dented sonic screwdriver certainly had something to say for THAT. He smiled at Carson, apologetically.
“I am sorry. I thought— well, to prove how utterly obtuse I can be, I thought it was some sort of game. And perhaps it was, in a way, but truly if I’d known… I’d have never handed over such a… personal item.”
Or any item at all. His life was something that he was harried to witness, and the Doctor hid his truths at least partially because he felt nobody else should ever have to.
"So what kind of doctor are you? You do all kinds of things, right? I mean--" She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking back.
"When I touched your pen I saw, um... a lot. Lots of it was just random images-- stuff I didn't recognise. Stuff that didn't seem real. And I get that you're-- you're kinda secretive. Probably a lot secretive. But can you just tell me who you are? You did almost blow my brain up."
A hugely ridiculous exaggeration, but Carson was curious now. A little scared too, but mostly curious. And she didn't let a silly thing like fear get in the way of something she really wanted to know.
“It’s okay, I haven’t seen The Shining either. I have read it, though. Your mum’s a bit foolish, if she thinks that’s any less appropriate than what I’m sure you hear at school.”
He wasn’t sure if that was particularly going to make her feel any better about the whole thing, though, so the Doctor stood up straighter, brushing down the lapels of his coat.
“Born with it, then. I imagine it can be a bit scary.”
"Other people think it's scary," she corrected. "I've lived with it my whole life. It's like a sixth sense or something."
Or something because she'd learned in school that they had more than just the five basic senses anyway. She just couldn't remember how many.
"It's normal. Usually pretty boring."
“I’m confused. Explain it to me again?”
She sighed. "It's simple. All you gotta do is go up to that jerk--" The jerk in question was a girl who looked to be Carson's age. "And scare her a bit so she'll leave me alone. Please?"
❝ same thing. ❞
❝ yeah, well, if i do, then you’ll know you were right. not going to say anything to you, though. ❞
"And maybe I'll just know. Ever think of that, genius?"
She wouldn't. Just know, that is. But Alex didn't know that. And Carson knew he didn't know that. And she really was just a kid who liked to push everyone's buttons.
you are 100% sure that there was not a young irish man on your couch when you closed the door behind you.
you are 50% sure that he is even real, because he ceases to be anywhere in sight outside of the realm inside your mirror.
“—nice poster, by the way.”
Of course this would happen when her parents were out to dinner. The one time they trusted her to be home alone.
"It's my dad's. ...what are you doing in my house?"
“It’s alright — trust me,” he wagged the sonic in the air with a raise of his eyebrows before tucking it back into his pocket — out of sight, out of mind, maybe. “It’s feelings definitely weren’t hurt.”
The Doctor considered Carson with an almost hesitant approach. He didn’t know what she had seen — but the way she had gone from the smug, in-your-face assurance of a teenager to this quieter, more reserved version was enough to tell him that it probably wasn’t something good.
“I’m the Doctor. Is it some sort of clairsentience?” It was only a guess — the Doctor didn’t even know if she would recognise the term. “How long has it been happening?”
She shrugged and made an 'I dunno' sort of sound.
"My Nana used to say I was like the kid in The Shining. Mom didn't like that so much. And Dad just thought it was funny." She shrugged again. "I haven't seen The Shining. Mom won't let me. 'Not appropriate for my age group.' It's stupid." Carson wasn't sure if she was referring towards her mother's rules ("Just there to keep you safe, hon!") or her whole gift.
"Been happening ever since I can remember though."
futuregal
❝ how am i supposed to believe you when you’re like, nine? ❞
"Thirteen."
"I don't really care if you believe me. Just don't come crying to me when you end up with food poisoning."
"There is no ‘professor' here!”
"He’s d e a d. He died. GET OUT.”
Carson was never one to admit to being afraid, but would readily do so now. But she also couldn't accept that she'd travelled all this way only to be shouted off the property by someone who looked, in her opinion, a little crazy.
ooc: more of a semi-hiatus. IDK. I’m gonna try not to disappear completely. But Fringe has taken over. So if I’m not here, and not on any of my other blogs, I’m off somewhere crying about the Bishops.
“You’re tellin’ me, lass. Hate that guy more than I hate people with terrible tastes in alcohol or who hate the Enterprise. And that’s rare!” A small chuckle slips from his mouth before realizing he was talking to the thirteen year old residing on-board. Good skills with computers and engines, just not with realizing that there are kids around.
Taking a small moment to pull out a sandwich from his lunch kit, he handed a part of it to the lass. Maybe, he was just trying to be polite but he didn’t know how to deal with kids. After all, he may’ve helped raised his younger sister but he was never around after she turned twelve. He was in Georgia or Space or at the academy. “Sandwich?”
"...thanks?" She took the sandwich and, unsure of whether or not she'd even like it, Carson pulled it open to examine it's contents. Satisfied, she stuck it back together and took a bite.
"You know, I'm thirteen. I think teenagers can feed themselves-- as a general rule." But teenagers were also into getting free food, so Carson wasn't about to turn it down. "You don't spend much time around kids, do you, Mr. Scott?"
Carson didn't consider herself a kid. She didn't think of herself as a teenager much either. She was just Carson. Herself. All she knew how to be. But she knew to Mr. Scott, and most of the ship's crew, she was just a kid.
“Do you find me strange, little one? I am Lady Sif, and I am of Asgard.”
"One, I'm not little. I'm thirteen." Well, duh, Carson. That makes you totally almost an adult. "And two-- am I supposed to know where Asgard is? Because I didn't do well on the last geography test we had in my social studies class."
— Don’t you dare.
If looks could kill... Carson finished chewing her food, swallowed, then stuck her tongue out for this guy to see. "Partypooper."
“…Because we’re going a wee bit too fast with the whole space .. travel thing, I would suggest putting on some of this. Might help.”
[ …it’s fucking neutron cream ]
"Well... what is it?"
She's thinking that if there was anything dangerous going on her mom would've told her to 1. stay in her room and 2. apply whatever the heck the CEO was holding out to her. And she's not a mind reader, she doesn't know what that stuff is. But he's the CEO, so he's smart, right? Carson thinks he must just be looking out for her or something.
futuregal
Evening.
"Do you like seafood?" she asks, as she takes a bite of a granola bar grabbed from the front pocket of her overalls.
ooc: 12 drafts on here which is insane and like 14 or so on another blog, and 32 on yet another but I have the next two days off so I'll definitely be on here?
Romana lifted a brow at the child, her expression stony. She didn’t deal with children well. Especially ones that needed a lesson or two in manners. But, since she was the elder in this situation, she decided to push down the retort threatening to bubble on her lips, in favor of exhaling a cleansing breath. It appeared that the child had already been through the mill by the look of things, and the Time Lady certainly didn’t want to add to that.
She stepped out into the rain, and with a flick of her wrist the black umbrella hooked around her arm seemed to open with a flourish.
"May I be of assistance?" Romana asked rather stiffly, moving swiftly over to her; upon closer inspection, she noted the torn strap of the backpack, and just how entirely soaked she was. Romana frowned, her brow creasing. She lowered the umbrella to the girl’s height, shielding her from the rain.
Hunched over against the rain, not that it's making a difference at this point, Carson shakes her head. She only looks up again when she feels the rain stop and noticed the woman's holding her own umbrella over her.
"Thanks," she mumbled, barely audible over the rain. She could've made it home just fine on her own, without this lady's charity, but she wasn't completely without manners. "But you don't have to do this, you know. I'm already wet. More rain won't make any difference."
