Donna Noble (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
supertemp) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2013-11-17 12:39 pm
supertemp) wrote in entrancelogs2013-11-17 12:39 pm
(no subject)
Who: Donna Noble and you!
Where: the library
When: Sunday, 11/17
Rating: PG, PG-13, somewhere around there.
Summary: Donna is trying to better herself! And...not really succeeding as well as she might hope.
The Story: Donna knows she'll forget everything once she returns home, but, she figures, that doesn't mean she ought to be idle while she's here. Instead, she's taken to attempting to learn things. Most of it isn't overly academic - there's a tangle of yarn in one corner of her room with crochet needles sticking out of it, a pile of sketchbooks with some sticks of charcoal - but today she's got a few books on astronomy and, surprisingly, a collection of French textbooks. Sure, the mansion translates everything for her, but that doesn't mean she can't learn it anyway, right?
(She wonders for a moment what speaking French might sound like to a Frenchman - if the mansion does the same weird thing as the TARDIS's translation circuits. Maybe it'll sound like Welsh. She hopes not.)
So she's bent over a notebook full of copious notes on verb conjugation and things, working her way through beginning exercises. She can be heard muttering a sentence under her breath now and then - her accent, for what it's worth, is atrocious, and her grammar could use a bit of help, too. But she's trying, at least.
Where: the library
When: Sunday, 11/17
Rating: PG, PG-13, somewhere around there.
Summary: Donna is trying to better herself! And...not really succeeding as well as she might hope.
The Story: Donna knows she'll forget everything once she returns home, but, she figures, that doesn't mean she ought to be idle while she's here. Instead, she's taken to attempting to learn things. Most of it isn't overly academic - there's a tangle of yarn in one corner of her room with crochet needles sticking out of it, a pile of sketchbooks with some sticks of charcoal - but today she's got a few books on astronomy and, surprisingly, a collection of French textbooks. Sure, the mansion translates everything for her, but that doesn't mean she can't learn it anyway, right?
(She wonders for a moment what speaking French might sound like to a Frenchman - if the mansion does the same weird thing as the TARDIS's translation circuits. Maybe it'll sound like Welsh. She hopes not.)
So she's bent over a notebook full of copious notes on verb conjugation and things, working her way through beginning exercises. She can be heard muttering a sentence under her breath now and then - her accent, for what it's worth, is atrocious, and her grammar could use a bit of help, too. But she's trying, at least.