I don&#x27;t believe in ghosts

“Do you have a costume? You’d probably look pretty in a costume since you are so pretty already.”

"No, any costumes I wear are for conventions, Renaissance fairs and the like."

+notpossibleatall

“Traveling is always fun.”

"If I had the money, traveling would be my life."

#matrixkeeper

+notpossibleatall

“My family, um, died.” he replied with an awkward smile, “I left so I wasn’t put in a foster care system.”

"Oh, wow, that's..." She didn't know what to say, so she quickly brought the flirtatious smile back. "Handsome, strong, determined, making a good life for yourself, are you sure you're not the perfect man?"

#thefourlostsouls

foolishforgery-blog

+ notpossibleatall

foolishforgery-blog

Eames waved over the waiter and ordered a fresh tea and one for his lovely new guest. He closed the file and gingerly laid it on the table. He tapped a finger on the file and chewed the inside of his cheek. He considered making up some boring answer but the truth was much more interesting.

“This is a folder has highly classified information that came into my possession by accident. It’s quite extraordinary, really.”

jamesackley-deactivated20130816

Nodding politely to the waiter, Clara turned her attention to her current company. He had a very thoughtful look on his face, the kind of look anyone would have when they were considering keeping something a secret, but there was something much more interesting going on. Oh she did hope that he'd tell her the interesting part.

"Classified information usually is. Though I'm quite surprised you acquired it by accident. Usually such things take an expert hacker to find."

#theforgereames

+ theimpossibleamypond, allonsy10thdoctor, notpossibleatall, el-greyson

jamesackley-deactivated20130816

“Nice to meet you too. Would you mind telling me where I am?”

"London, dear."

#jamesackley

+notpossibleatall

“Doing well. What brings you to Cardiff?”

"Just traveling a bit."

#matrixkeeper

+notpossibleatall

“Um… I was born and raised in Las Vegas till I was about fifteen…” he replied thinking of facts.

"What made you leave?" She asked, just trying to keep the conversation going.

#thefourlostsouls

“That doesn’t sound like fun.” He laughed lightly and was curious about this girl. “So then, what do you do for a living?”

Shrugging, she pushed her hair out of her face. "Just a barmaid."

“I don’t know yet. I’ll find out though. Something just seems different about you.” He smirked and took a sip of his beer.

"You have no idea," she laughed, taking a deep drink. "But it's a secret. Can't go letting you know."

phenomenal-vibrations

Reblog if tattoos are a major turn on for you.

“Not anyone as interesting as you. There are lots of pretty girls but only some have the talents you have.” He smiled and sat down at a booth, ordering them both a beer.

"Mind explaining what that talent would be, dear?" She asked, curious as to what was special according to him.

“Let’s get this woman a drink!” He yelled to the bartender and the bartender smiled at him.

“Hello Ace! Haven’t seen you here in a while!”

Ace shrugged and smiled. “I haven’t had a pretty girl to accompany in a while.”

Smiling flirtatiously at both men, Clara took a seat at the bar. "All it takes is a pretty girl," she teased. "Must not find a lot of them around here, then."

truthonwheels

The Lady of Many Names: {Clara} {Tate}

Tate sat on the corner, collecting his thoughts. He’d just come from the crime scene, and his notes were rapidly taken with a messy hand. He let the notepad lay in his lap as he replaced his gloves and adjusted the brim of his brown derby hat.

He’d just returned from a four-year stint in Japan. His mother’s family had requested his presence for important matters; at its conclusion, he returned to Wales to assure his father’s well-being before heading home to London. He loved this town; he felt it was easier to fit in. A Japanese-Welshman in a wheelchair could have be the culmination of minorities, but he got by. His job afforded him the freedom that most invalids like himself could not afford.

However, Tate didn’t think of himself as such. A man of different abilities,perhaps but not an invalid. His chair in particular, was the sole reason of his independence. His father, an inventor, designed a much more mobile chair and his son was the owner of the third prototype.

Across the way was a pub, wherein a few of the patrons might have witnessed the murder. He rolled in, a few of the people turning around to see him, He decided that he’d like a drink before he went about his job.

“A little liquid courage, please.” he asked the barmaid from his lowered seat.

Clara was having a busy day, filled with aggravating customers and drunken men that didn't know how to subtly flirt with a woman. Honestly, they were all hands and definitely didn't understand the meaning of 'not interested'. She didn't really need the job, but usually it was actually fun, meeting new people.

To say that the young brunette was in a strange position would have been an understatement. A woman that held two jobs, simply for the entertainment of it, wasn't particularly normal. At least with one job, she was Clara, the other Ms. Oswald. The advantages to being a governess, so very few people ask your first name. While, in a pub, well, it was harder for the drunkards to track her down without a last name. There was a method to her madness.

Going from table to table, Clara kept the advantages to her life in mind as she filled orders and batted off the already intoxicated men that would soon be kicked out, knowing the way that the other employees thought. At least she would be free of them soon, and then going to the children.

Hearing the door open, she looked up to see a young man. The wheelchair threw her off for a moment, but soon, she was just smiling. Perhaps she would have one customer that didn't drive her completely insane.

"Coming right up, dear," she said with a smile before going to fill his order, placing it in front of him within a matter of moments.

#truthonwheels

“Well then my-lady shall we?” He opened the door to the bar and bowed slightly, letting her go in first.

She nodded politely, walking through. "Why thank you, sir."

“I doubt you can take me down.” He smiled mischievously as he put his hands in his pockets and looked ahead. “Ah, we are almost there. Are you going to get drunk then? Or just to have a quick drink?” He asked, not caring if he was being nosy.

"Well someone's full of himself," she teased, smiling to herself. "Oh, it depends on how I feel when I start, though a quick drink is most likely."