This is just an excuse for me to picture them in baroque fashion, isn’t it?
Message me a character & “ -punk” subgenre And I’ll write an AU Drabble
Stupid him being all mysterious and elegant and still like that. Perpugilliam thought, toying with a ringlet of her hair. She needed a maid and an hour’s preparation to look court-ready, his hair seemed to naturally form that fashionably enormous shape.
That man, Dr. Smith, in his motley-coloured but fashionably cut suit, was making final adjustments before he began his demonstration. The other ladies of the court murmured to each other behind their fans, watching this demonstration. Perpugilliam caught words like, “wonder of the age”, “cleverest man in all England”, and “magician”. But she was more concerned that words like “dashing”, “piercing gaze”, and “handsome” seemed to be entirely in her own head. Damn the man. She knew that he wasn’t a magician but that as far as clockwork was concerned he might as well have been.
He was at least half responsible for the machinations in the palace, both the interpersonal plots in the court and the physical devices that kept the court safe and amused. The Dancing Floor, which spun the dancers around like a third partner, the gates that kept commoners out of the palace without a key, the beautiful harpsichord player who played music along with the ticking of her own gears.
Dr. Smith straightened his back and gave the largest of the keys on the base of the table-sized model a final turn. As his fingers spread over the miniature world like a god creating life, the model sprung into motion. Birds twittered and flapped their wings, flying along an arc of circular wire. Flowers spread their petals and bloomed. Milkmaids moved through the countryside, their skirts twitching with unseen legs. Above all of this pastoral scene, a beautiful lady with a porcelain face played a spritely melody on an organ.
So entranced was the court, no one noticed that the inventor himself had stepped away from the model until his hand fell on Perpugilliam’s shoulder. Suppressing a gasp, she turned and looked up into his sparkling blue-green eyes.
“That should keep them distracted for nearly half an hour,” he whispered, his breath warm on her bare shoulders. “Will you join me in the garden?”
As automatically as his creation, Perpugilliam’s hand slipped into the crook of his arm.
“A lady should not encourage this behavior,” she replied softly, creeping through the frozen courtiers.
“Quite right, so she shouldn’t.” he agreed, guiding her out through the back of the crowd, “And by that very fact I cannot deny my love for something which can move outside the order of her clockwork.”
“I was afraid of that...” said Frobisher, turning his head towards the sound of Peri’s voice. From somewhere in the darkness, there was a sound like snapping rubber, and then a click of a chain being pulled. A large and ridiculous-looking floor lamp with a tasselled shade lit up where there had never been a lamp before. It bowed towards Peri.
“I only remember the Tardis doin’ this once before, an’ that was because I.... uh, it--she--was upset.” the lamp said uncomfortably. It hopped closer to Peri.
[ So, based on that reply, has Frobisher seen Labyrinth? 😃 ]
((Yes, he has! I’m not sure if I’m sorry for blaming it on Peri, but at the same time it’s from her era and the idea of her fancying older fair-haired men in strange clothing tickles me pink. Especially if she insists it has no bearing on her actual life.))
Send "🛠" and I will reveal some OCs, NPCs, or side characters I have
((Part of me wants to reuse the gangsters who showed up in a thread I had with kinddeathbecomeshe, AKA the three mafia stereotypes. I think Von had potential: pale green, possibly female, and trigger happy.))
[Do you have any headcanons about Eight and/or Lucie? :) ]
Eight knows classical ballet. He has no idea where he learned it.
Maybe he regenerated with it. Maybe it’s timelord floof.
While the Doctor got his first velvet coat of the regeneration from a Wild Bill costume, he then went and picked up more velvet frock coats.
He has named some of the Tardis bats. He can’t keep track of which ones are which, but he knows some of them have names.
The Doctor tried to make another set of shirts like the ones he had for Charley and himself, but rather than being labelled, “If lost, return to Charley Pollard” and “I’m Charley Pollard”, they read, “If lost, return to Lucie Miller.” and “I don’t want him.”
Lucie likes leather jackets, especially ones in colours not found on animals, like red or blue.
Lucie also wears hoop earrings, but she cut down on it a little after they got caught on some foliage the Doctor insisted they hide in.
Lucie has referred to the Doctor as her pet, but only when he was acting like one.
Lucie can run in high heels better than most other companions.
Lucie knows very little about historical fashion and will wear extremely anachronistic outfits even when she does change. The Doctor doesn’t mention because he finds it amusing.
The Doctor should have fought to hide his irritation at his companion's outburst, he knew that. She was still getting used to traveling with him, so she still had that very human tendency to compare everything—from food to clothes to customs— to her native Earth, often negatively. He wanted to be sensitive to that, particularly since she was a perfectly lovely young lady most of the time.
Unfortunately, he simply couldn't deal with listening to her fussing at the moment. He still had a great deal of necessary TARDIS maintenance to do before their next trip, which was another part of her grievance—delaying departure for their next destination. He exhaled and spoke in a tight voice.
“Peri, I would like very much to discuss your entire list of complaints, but I'm really rather busy making sure that the TARDIS doesn't explode the next time she's in flight. That would be unfortunate for both of us, I'm sure you'd agree. Do you think you could write down everything you are annoyed by and let me consult the list later?”
