Sep. 3rd, 2011

burnt_orangesky: (Default)
Fred frowned to herself as she got out the kettle. She had just come back from her morning run with Gai, and it was shaping up to be a windy day. That was better than rain, at least, but she wondered if she should take a pullover down to the Yard.

The white openings still bothered her, and she took the time to muse on them as she filled the kettle and set it on the stove. What could they be? A way out, or the way to another world? For all that Bridge had warned the Scavengers not to go through them, and the fact that nothing could be seen on the other side, she still wanted to know. She had held off, her curiosity tempered by the knowledge that if they were something dangerous, not only would her friends never forgive her for dying (again), but they would likely start following her everywhere. There were enough of them that they could just casually tag along wherever she went. Not to mention how sad another death would make all of them. She didn't want to put
them through that, anymore than she wanted babysitters.

With a sigh, she opened the cupboard where they kept the tea. For some reason, the box had been placed higher on the shelf than usual. Frowning once more, she pulled over a chair so she could reach it.

Hopping down again, she set the box on the counter as she replaced the chair. Walking back to the counter, she flipped open the lid of the box--and stopped, staring. Nestled in the box, still surrounded by the other tea bags, was something she hadn't seen in quite some time. The glowing crystal surrounded by rings of metal was as familiar as ever, though.

With trembling fingers, she picked it out of the box. Turning it over between her hands, she licked her lips, took a deep breath, and slid her fingers between the rings until the tip of her middle finger brushed up against the stone's cool surface, and plunged her into darkness.

Memory )

***********

Fred came back to herself to hear the kettle shrieking. She removed it quickly, hoping it hadn't bothered 00 or Composer, then moved toward the table to sit. Her movements, however, were awkward and slow. She looked down--she appeared to have some sort of costume on, one that completely encased her entire body, with far more fabric than was really necessary. She turned awkwardly, and moved to sit on the couch.

What in Rassilon's name was she supposed to make of that?

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burnt_orangesky

October 2011

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