#rosewrit

[pinstrpe-blog]

be honest . . . how do i look ? ( from jenny , poor baby’s self conscious about her regeneration )

meme.

                           “ohhh, are you kidding? you look fantastic.”

                       – a clone harvested from a stolen tissue sample using non-earth technology that is far too advanced for this day and age or not, she’s a soldier turned asset turned… well, that’s the beauty of it. no matter what she is or who she chooses to be, the choice is always there. (she can choose not to kill. she can choose to lay the gun down and travel the way he does – because anything’s possible in this day and age. timeIord clones, impossible wars… all he can do is hope that his hunch is right – that donna’s hunch is right. let her grow into something new. let her be who she needs to be and see what time and space spits right back out.)

                                 — and boy, is he glad to see her alive.

          “not ginger. i keep waiting for ginger – i think i’d like being ginger. but you – oh, regeneration suits you well, jenny. come here, you!”

regeneration! of course she regenerated! she’s a mitotic clone of himself, and she has two hearts – she’s a timeIord just like him. he pulls her in for a hug – still the same, no matter what body they’re both in – and squeezes her tight. (he’d had his doubts at first – soldier is as soldier does, and the memories of standing against a great enemy still haunt him from his war days, but she’s not just that. nobody is ever just that.)

[twclvesteps]

        ❛     NO !   absolutely not.  ❜      they used to get along.   one upon a time ,  she and her daughter were tight knit ,   sharing everything from meals to gossip.  now it was anything but.  despite her best efforts , those kids were always trying to find their way back to charming , california.  funny ,  the draw that small town could have.  she’d spent more than enough time trapped between the club members and the payed off cops.   ❛    ——   you’re not going back there.  i FORBID it.  ❜    //  @roseswrit  (  sc. )

[medaowes]

but it’s better to be armed with the truth, you know?                   (  @rosewrit​  ft.   mary macdonald  )

                   “     it’s     better     to     be     armed     with     power,     as     far     as   i     believe.     ”    

                the    concept     of     knowledge     and     truth     remain     fickle     and     malleable     back     in     Durmstrang     (   and     Dorcas     has     been     imbibed     into    their     doctrine     from     an     early     age     );    truth     is     easily     changed     and     twisted     –     is     there     even     an     objective     concept     of     truth?    Lies     come     off     easily     to     wizards   and     muggles     alike,     after     all.

                   Still,    the     girl     before     her     seems     to     believe     her     words     to     some     degree,     as     she     says     them     with     enough     conviction     to     tell     Dorcas   that     she     actually     thinks     them     a     fact.

                   “  the      idea      of     truth     is     relative     –     what     is     considered     the     truth     for     you   might     not     be     so     for     me.     ”     Dorcas     knows     right     from     wrong,     that     is     all     which    can     be     easily     defined     by     a     line     that   should     not     be     crossed     (     anything     else    is     just     a     matter     of     perspective     ),   “     but     i     suppose     as     a     journalist     you     cling     to     the     truth     because     it’s     your     job.     ”     Dorcas     pushes     herself     away     from     the     stone     wall     she’d     been     leaning     on,     arms     uncrossed     as     she     begins     to     walk     in    opposite     direction     of     Mary     MacDonald,     and     without     turning     to     face     her     still,     she     adds,     “     but     as     i     said,     the     truth     is    malleable.     power     will     always     be     power.    ”

[vulku]

                                   “      i am . . . gratified to see you.      ”               there is the faint thickness of emotion on his tongue,         something decidedly un-vulcan.          something he endeavored to stifle so many times,         but finds himself attempting to . . . coexist with,         now.          this is not to say it is simple by any stretch of the word,          when he is split down the center by vulcan logic          &          his humanity.          but,          spock is trying.          especially for her.          but for him,          as well.

“         suffice it to say that i have . . . . missed you greatly,           mother.              ”      

@rosewrit  /     amanda.

[vulku]

                               “      allow me to assure you                  ”               he watches with dark eyes that track her movements       ;       not out of distrust,         but in a sense of calm.            of contentment.           many times over has nurse chapel proven to be exemplary in her duties       &      care for patients.           her particular sensitivity to his vulcan heritage is appreciated,          however unnecessary.             he is not discomforted in the slightest.     the sensation of the dermal regeneration hardly registers.

“         there is nothing for which you need to apologize for.                 ”      

@rosewrit    /     chapel.

[stormlit]

( @rosewrit / christine / call )

        what the hell has the doctor got her into this time? ( and why doesn’t clara care as much as she probably should, surrounded by panic on an awesome-looking spaceship in the future? )  ❝ i can help. ❞ can she? well, she’s got basic first aid training, though it’s usually small cuts, maybe a headache, not this much blood.  ❝ i’m clara. hi. you look like you need help. these hands--- ❞ she waggles them,  ❝ ---are yours. ❞

[genotypiic-a]

“are you all right, love?” charles asks gently, pausing beside the table that the young woman rests at. she looks distraught, and he’s simply not capable of merely passing by. he must at least ask if she is well. “are you here alone?” he scans the mostly deserted diner briefly to search for a possible companion. “my name is charles xavier, is there anything i can do to help you?”

@rosewrit // plotted!

[itsnotpatsy]

@rosewrit (x)

Hellcat grins behind the cowl, though her greener-by-the-day hazel eyes scan over a figure charmingly with curious honesty. One fanged tooth protrudes from her front ones-- one long, feline fang where others will hopefully grow to balance it out. Right now, there’s not much she can do-- after all, her teeth are part of her defense. Clad in bright yellow and dark blue, hair sunshine blonde ut the back of the headpiece, for someone immensely tall and immeasurably built, she’s-- very kind, gentle, and warmly spoken. She tries to be, like this.

“Sorry, Susan Fleischer,” She bites back the urge to say Susie so she’s not disrespectful, “Hellcat’ll do. Masks are for hiding. If I gave you my name, what kind of secret keeper would I be?”

And she’s a little more serious. But it’s warm, again, gentle, “Are you okay, though? Is there anything else I can do?”