#neverfearthedark

[stupidfacedpond]

12thdoctxr never-fear-thedark 11tomylast I’m looking at the Tooflr polls page and what does this mean?:  Will you help out Tooflr by making a Weebly of your own and sharing the link with us? If yes, what is the name of your Tooflr site?

Is there a way to make a TOOFLR site?? or can we make a Weebly and then link it to a tooflr profile?? I’m kinda lost

[centurioaeternum]

Let it be known

Anyone - and I mean anyone - who gives Clara Oswin a bad time of it can and will answer to me. Trust me, you do not want to be on the wrong end of my gladius.

[roleplayerxshoutouts]

“I want to give a shout out to never-fear-thedark. She's an amazing Clara Oswald rper and I just love roleplaying and talking ooc with her. Whenever I have a stressful day at work and such, a quick chat from her always leaves me smiling. She's a real treasure.”

[thatblokewiththebowtie]

Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (closed with never-fear-thedark)

The Doctor took a very deep breath. He’d face Daleks, Sontarans, Judoon, al manner of space born evil in his long, long life but nothing at all had prepared him for how nervous he felt right now. The Doctor, you see, was about to do something that was utterly (to him) terrifying.

The TARDIS materialized a discrete distance from Coal Hill School and he emerged, straightening his bow tie and attempting (and failing) to settle his nerves before setting out down the lane toward the school. Pleasant memories made the walk easier, remembering Chesterfield.. no, Chesterton.. and his lovely Barbara and oh.. Susan. His grandchild, well so to speak. This school and that rubbish yard were where it had all began, all those years ago.

He took a seat on a bench across the street, waiting for Clara to emerge. Eventually she did, making for her motorbike and he moved quickly to catch her attention. He was, you see, about to ask Clara out on a real, proper date.

[centurioaeternum]

Lightning in a bottle (closed with never-fear-thedark)

He’d never forget that day as long as he lived. They’d jumped, they’d “died” on that Manhattan sidewalk so that the paradox would be soured. But instead of horrible pain, he and Amy had found themselves sitting up in Manhattan graveyard, very much alive. Overjoyed didn’t even begin to describe it, they’d made it out of danger by the skin of their teeth and all was well.

Except..

He’d gone to idly look over tombstones while the Doctor and River tended to the TARDIS. Then his beloved Amy had done what, in the end, she had to do. She’d seen the Angel begin to move (well out of Rory’s sight) and she launched her entire six foot frame into a run, tackling him aside - and then vanishing, taken by the Angel God alone knew where. Reality collapsed around as he begged the Doctor to please get her back, work his Time Lord magic and get her back.

But no, he couldn’t, not without condemning the entire eastern seaboard of the United States to a temporal nightmare if he even tried. Amy had given herself to the Angel to save him, and when they saw her name fill itself in on that self same tombstone..

Now, what felt like an eternity later, he sat on a park bench in London, staring at absolutely nothing. Life was there to be gotten through, existed in, and he had no interest in it beyond healing the sick. Most would argue that was a noble thing to dedicate your life to, but he did so to avoid the realities of a world without Amy Pond in it. She’d live a long, presumably good life, but she’d had to do it without him and it broke him.

But then came a day that changed so very much. He was in his usual spot, doing nothing much at all. But then he heard some local toughs shouting out abusively and laughing like the drunks they were. That alone was enough to get his attention, but then he heard a tearful, trembling female voice begging to be left alone.

Standing, he felt old feeling stir inside as he approached them, demanding they bugger off and leave the young woman be. He batted aside one punch without effort, knocked out another attacker with a punch and back elbowed another into running for his life.

The Last Centurion was still to that day no man to trifle with. Turning to the young woman, he was now all tenderness and concern. “Are you okay, miss? My name’s Rory. Did they hurt you?”

[faceofeleven]

Clara Oswald heard the nurse shout that she couldn't be back there but instead of slowing her down it only made her run faster. Please, Doctor. Please be okay, she silently pleaded. She ran from hospital room to hospital room frantically--and then she saw him and slid to a halt. The sight of him bruised and battered in the hospital bed broke her heart. She stepped into the room, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as tears spilled over her cheeks. "Oh, God." (never-fear-thedark)

His eyes cracked open slowly and so did his mouth, taking a deep breath while his vision focused on two big brown eyes above him.

“Clara?” How good it felt to say her name again! How good it felt to have his mouth back, too. After letting that computer creature puppet him, having his faculties back felt wonderful. He felt absolutely horrendous, but wonderful.

“Hey.”