entrancelogs | I'm trying not to sleep

Entry tags:

I'm trying not to sleep

Who: Clara & anyone! (totally open)
Where: Around the mansion
When: The week after the shadow event
Rating: TBA
Summary: When you have a terrible shadow event, it's time to stay busy to forget about it
The Story: Clara is beyond humiliated.

She's lost a great deal of her pride, she's fractured almost every single relationship she's formed in her time here, and she's at a loss as to what she needs to do to make herself feel better. So the best solution in her mind is simply not to think about it and stay busy. She can't act like any of the things her shadow said never happened, of course, but she doesn't have to linger on it. There's too much hurt there for her, and it's best to just build up some walls on the inside and close it off and away. And sleep? Forget about it, there's way too much time to have thoughts loiter on everything that went wrong, or have pesky dreams slip in, and that's definitely not something she wants to have happen.

On Tuesday, she has plans with both Luke and Owen, and despite not being up to her usual spirited nature she's grateful for the chance to interact with the both of them without shadows present.

On Wednesday, she thinks she has self-defense lessons but also spends a good portion of the day sprawled out in the sun at the beach. She's not usually a beach dweller and she doesn't usually sunbathe, but she thinks it's the perfect place to read through some Jules Verne. Journey to the Center of the Earth was a childhood favorite, and it makes her feel safe and nostalgic so she's grateful that the library has a copy on hand just waiting for her.

On Thursday, she spends her time out in the gardens, working on both drawing and painting. Her lessons with Whale have left her eager to continue practicing, working on a drawing of white roses which she has every intention of painting red by the end of the day. If someone happens across her, she's more than likely to grab hold of them and convince them to pose for her so she can attempt a more complicated subject.

Friday finds Clara holed up in the library, a stack of books on space piled up around her. She's sitting cross legged on the floor, and the pile of books towers above her, constantly wobbling as if they're about to topple at any given second. There's fiction, non-fiction, and even some picture books at her side. She started the day out reading for research but now has an old, worn copy of The Little Prince in hand. It brings back memories of her mother, and those are always good to hold onto when she's having a difficult time.

The rest of the weekend is spent either at the swimming pool or her room. The pool she's never really used before, so it's nice to just float around and stare up at nothing in particular. It's a funny feeling, just aimlessly floating, doing nothing for hours on end. She almost feels guilty for it, but it's a nice break from being cooped up in the library. When she's in her room she's working on painting her walls, trying to complete constellations for the night sky she's painted across every single wall. She's not much of an artist, but this has given her something to do in her time here, and the project is almost complete. There's even a little TARDIS painted right up above her bed.

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"All right." He nods decisively. "Can't say I've travelled much, actually." Which makes him feel a bit lame when compared to Clara, who's gone all throughout time and space with the Doctor. "But there was uni, and then work, and then Torchwood, and I just...never really had time, I suppose." And then he ran out of time entirely. "Torchwood isn't so much a job as it's sort of your entire life, really." Right up till the day you die, he almost adds, but catches himself just in the nick of time. No need to ruin the mood, he thinks, even if that's weighing heavily on his mind right about now. (And he's got Ianto to thank for that, so thanks, Ianto.)

"But that's not who you are here, is it? Torchwood. That's who you were." She's not sure if he still wants to be attached to the life he had back on Earth, to the job that got him killed. She can't blame him if he wants to stay loyal to it, but a part of her hopes that for his sake, he's able to move on and find something new to work toward here.

"I know what it's like, though. After I finished university, I was supposed to travel. Thought I would start off with a visit to some friends of the family, they were there for me a while ago when Mum died. Their mother passed away while I was there, and I never quite got around to traveling."

And that's her whole reason for her interest in initially going with the Doctor, for the decor in her room here, for the book she totes around. She's just a leaf blowing in the wind, not quite sure where she's going to end up settling. She's been caught up in a breeze for too long now, unable to land anyplace. But with traveling? She's able to finally have a purpose of some kind, even if she won't allow it to overshadow her responsibilities.

Owen has a bizarre twisted loyalty to Jack, not that he wants to admit it, and maybe to his teammates (which, since Ianto is the only other one here, he really doesn't want to admit), but not so much to the job. "I'm just a doctor here," he tells her. "Which is all I ever wanted to be." Though there isn't much call for doctoring here in Wonderland, he's noticed - at least, not outside of events.

"I'd wondered how you'd got started with the whole nannying business - didn't think you'd just blown in on an umbrella and started singing songs about tidying the place up." He gives her a crooked grin.

"I don't sing. Life isn't a Mary Poppins musical number." She makes that fact very clear, and looks entirely put out by the fact he, like so many other people, jump to the Disney nanny image.

"But," She pauses, in order to take a pancake onto her plate. "I could be something else here, don't you think? I have no idea what I'm good at. But if you can be just a doctor, then I can be just a -"

Her mind goes completely blank and she stares up at him a bit helplessly, looking for some kind of help in filling in the end of her sentence. She hates it when this happens, all the words just flood right out when she's just about to make some sort of interesting statement.

"I was just teasing." There's a defensive tone to his voice, and he'd be holding his hands up if he weren't helping himself to sausages. "If there's one thing I know quite well, it's that life isn't some sort of Disney film." Especially not his life.

"An adventurer," Owen decides after a moment of thought. "A traveller, a dreamer - well, maybe not that one, that's awfully John Lennon-y. Or, easiest one of all, just Clara." He pauses again, reminded of their shadows. "Course, that might also be the hardest one, depending on how you look at it."

"Just Clara's got an awful lot to live up to. Mum was Just Ellie, mother and dreamer extraordinaire. Don't think I can ever fill her shoes. Adventurer, though. Can't really do that here." She pops a piece of pancake into her mouth at that point and munches on it, really thinking it over.

"Guess I don't have to be anything or work while I'm here." She frowns, because that sounds like a terrible way to go about existing, especially if she's meant to be in Wonderland long term.

"You don't think Wonderland's an adventure?" Owen raises an eyebrow. "All right, so it's got magical boundaries that you can't cross, but everything within them is full of mystery and magic and...I don't know, all that adventurous shit." He waves a hand vaguely; eloquence is clearly not his strong suit. "I'll get you a proper Indiana Jones hat and everything, it'll look cute on you."

Owen isn't good at finding things for people to do here - he'd suggested Ianto open a coffeeshop, of all things, and so he's not really sure what to recommend now. "Awfully dull way to live your life, though."

"I didn't believe in magic until I came here. Still don't, not really." She shrugs, but is smiling at the Indiana Jones reference. She already talked to Martha about the hat and whip, and thinks they'd look perfect on her. She's pleased that Owen's mentioned them too. So pleased that she's grinning almost impishly.

"I don't do dull, though. Think I'm gonna have to take my proper Indiana Jones hat - and whip, which you forgot to mention - and take up residence in the clinic when I'm not out having adventures. Do you think Martha would mind?"

"Yeah, the whole magic thing's a bit dodgy, if you ask me - 'course, most people would say the same about aliens and time travel, I imagine." But Owen prefers science, even if he's not as nerdy about it as Luke is.

"The whip just makes it kinky," he jokes, "not that I mind kinky." Is he turning into Jack? God, he might be. That's a terrifying thought. "I don't think Martha'd mind at all, though. And I might even be willing to teach you a thing or two, if you'd like." There's at least two innuendos he could tack on there, but he'll wait on them for a moment.

"No, nothing about my adventurer whip is kinky!" She tries to act offended, but instead she just bursts out laughing. She doubts that he does mind kinky, but she's never really thought of herself as being a kinky sort of girl.

"Think I'd like learning a thing or two you've got to teach though, so go ahead and sign me up for that,"

"Not while you're dressed as an adventurer, anyway - now, if you were wearing a leather catsuit or something, then it might be kinky." Owen winks broadly at her. "Or you might be Catwoman, I dunno. Either/or." He's actually not terribly kinky - Owen likes sex just fine as it is, no need for extras.

"Just wait till you get to the hands-on anatomy lesson," he tells her, half-expecting a slap for that.

And with that, the tea Clara was drinking at the exact moment is snorted down as she's taken by surprise. Her throat burns and she coughs, eyes wide as she glances up and over at him.

"Hands on? Dunno if you're ready for something like that yet." She teases, through her coughing and throat burning. She tries to smile and laugh, but it's a bit hard to do so she looks entirely awkward, but at least she didn't hit him?

Owen is laughing, because he's kind of a prick like that - though he at least tempers it by fetching her a glass of ice water from the closet. "Sorry, didn't expect you to react like that." It's better than a slap, at least. Well, mostly. "And I'm a doctor," he adds, "I'm already quite skilled with my hands." Because he never knows when to quit, does he?

No, he definitely doesn't. Eyebrows arch and she bursts out laughing in disbelief that he's managed to shock her twice in less than thirty seconds. A long drink of ice water is taken, and she's looking at him as if he's the Doctor and he's done something entirely exasperating.

"Don't you dare suggest something about putting that to the test." She reaches over to lightly hit at his arm. She doesn't put any force behind it, and is smiling in amusement, so it's not much of a scolding at all.

"Would I do something like that?" Owen tries for an innocent look, but doesn't quite make it, being Owen. "That was rhetorical, by the way," he adds, as they both know perfectly well that he would.

"Really, though, I will show you a thing or two about medicine." It's only fair, he figures, if she's going to show him how to cook. An exchange of skills, if you will.

"Thank you." She smirks over in his direction, not commenting on his rhetorical question in the slightest. "Doubt it's something I'll be decent at, but it's worth a shot." And she's not entirely hopeless at anything she puts her mind to doing, so she's got that going for her too. "Maybe basic first aid? Wouldn't want you to have to patch me up every time I got myself into trouble."

"I'd rather you not need to be patched up at all," Owen comments as he helps himself to another pancake, "but all right. Things do happen, especially in this bloody madhouse. And then you'll be able to take care of anybody else who might need it, too, at least till you can get hold of a doctor." Though doctors seem to be a dime a dozen in Wonderland lately; Owen wonders for a moment if there's some sort of reason for that. It's a sobering thought, so he doesn't dwell on it.

"Exactly." She points out the perfection of his logic in that she'll be more useful to people here, including him, if he should ever be hurt. "I'd rather be prepared, if I'm stuck here indefinitely. I've already been in trouble on two separate occasions, and I've hardly been here any time at all."

She plucks a piece of sausage up and eats a bite from it, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. There are a lot of doctors here in Wonderland. She doubts she'll really be needed at all. But still, it won't hurt to learn.

Edited 2013-06-22 03:27 (UTC)

"Hey, the more people who aren't complete bloody idiots, the better, that's what I always say." Not that Owen's a misanthrope or anything. (He's definitely a misanthrope.) "About first aid - I'm definitely not saying you're an idiot at all," he clarifies then, realising that he might have put his foot in it just a little bit.

"I try." She rolls her eyes, acting entirely affronted by his remark. "Better be an idiot with training than without." She takes a large piece of pancake and shoves it in her mouth, still looking entirely put out by his comment as she chews.

She swallows, then points at him with her fork. "You better keep it strictly professional, especially if Martha's around."

"You mean I can't flirt with both of you at the same time?" Owen pretends to be disappointed by this revelation. He's not terribly professional with Martha, either, when it comes down to it. "You're ruining all my fantasies, Clara. I'm terribly disappointed."

"Oh, I don't care about at the same time. In the same room? Definitely not." She shakes her head, waggling her fork in his direction as if he's terribly naughty. Which he is, and he knows it, so she's quick to drop her fork on the table and look at it as if it's just offended her even though she was the one moving it.

"Looks like you'll just have to get new fantasies. Ones that don't involve Martha and I with you in the clinic."

Owen, to his credit, at least refrains from asking if he can have fantasies that involve Clara and Martha in his bedroom. "Well, I can't flirt with both of you at the same time if you're in different rooms," he points out reasonably. In fact, being professional is something that Owen doesn't do in general when there are attractive women in the room, much to the dismay of all the women he's ever worked with (not that many of them have complained). "But all right, I'll try my best to behave."

"You better." She laughs, slouching down in her chair. She can only imagine the kind of reactions he pulls out of Martha, if he acts this way toward her. Actually, that brings about a good question. "Is this how you speak to her? Martha, I mean." She cracks a grin, wondering if Martha's slaps hurt or not. She's willing to bet Owen's gotten one or two in his time of knowing her.

"More or less, yeah." He does, after all, fancy Martha as well. "She's got a bloke back home, though," Owen explains, "and I'm pretty sure Jack would shoot me if I actually tried anything with her." So he's not quite as blatant with Martha...most of the time. Okay, some of the time.

...okay, so that's pretty much a lie, he's just as blatant with Martha. But he wouldn't try and make a move on her, nonetheless.

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