don't let the bad things rule your life [OPEN]

[selfrespecting]

Who: Martha Jones Liddell and OPEN.
Where: Various places around the mansion.
When: 6/6 - 6/10
Rating: PG-13 (possible nakedness?)
Summary: Martha is a member of the large, mysterious Liddell family, and is cursed to be Year of the Nightingale.
The Story:
1.

While the mansion was packed full with family members, both those she knew well and those that she didn't, Martha couldn't quite understand why they had so many regular humans here with them. It was only bound to lead to trouble, and as much as she tried to keep away from them for both their safety and her own, there was only so much that she could do to keep to herself.

Especially with the existence of that clinic. Some years back, she had dreamed of being a doctor, up until her family had told her that it wasn't practical, that no one who was cursed could ever hope to examine people. That kind of close contact was asking for trouble.

Which didn't stop Martha from wandering the first floor, circling ever closer to the clinic. At the very least, maybe she could take a look inside...

2.

The inevitable happened.

Finding herself in animal form, Martha knew there was only one thing she could do. Fly, fly away as fast as her wings would take her. A bird slipping inside and hiding the rafters, that wasn't particularly strange, and yet still she sought the areas outside, believing that would be more safe.

She searched out her other family, not the Liddells but these other songbirds who were only animals. Yet at least she could blend among them, chirp and sing (only the males were supposed to, but who would know the difference, really?) and hope that nothing about her stood out. All she had to do was wait for everything to blow over, wait for herself to change back, and then she would sneak inside and get herself some clothes. Bloody hell, this was already a mess.

3.

Wild card! Other places Martha can be found: her room on the eighth floor, the diner, the library, and wandering in the woods. If we discussed a particular thread idea while plotting, feel free to give me a starter with that scenario.


Prose or brackets, past or present tense, I will match you! ♥

Comments

1 - 06/08 - first floor corridor

[airshipswank]

Perhaps he should have recalled the story better, but their ominous warnings have rarely served Lord Buckingham in the past, even when he was able to decipher their meaning. Now, what was it again? A celebration, a ruse, some shunned feline... and animals, but was that truly all? More animals for the grounds, well, he certainly noticed as much. Suppose he's missed a good hunt, he might make good target practice of them yet--

"Miss Jones!"

Further down the corridor her presence catches his eye and casts aside his idle thoughts, and Buckingham remembers why he thought to approach the stables from the opposite direction this morning. A glance at the clinic was what he had in mind, a matter of curiosity to discover if the event might have left graver traces in these parts.

A chance of a glance at Miss Jones as well, should the duke find her in the midst of her duties, which... it would seem she has either just abandoned, or was about to commence. He approaches with a smile.

"I'd rather hoped to catch you here, and I'm glad I did!"

[selfrespecting]

When a voice calls out for her from down the hall, Martha tenses for a moment, spinning around with a guilty look on her face. Caught in the act. She relaxes slightly when she realizes it's not a member of her family, who would no doubt have chided her for making eyes at the clinic yet again.

It's just, she believes she would be good at doctoring, if only she were given that chance. Not being able to carry out a dream she's carried since a young age means that she can never quite give it up.

Buckingham presents his own challenge, of course, given that he's got an obvious interest in her and Martha constantly has to take pains to make certain he doesn't get too close.

She pulls out a sheepish smile. He'd known to look for her here, which speaks to how common it is for her to wander this way. "Are you? What did you need, Lord Buckingham? Or were you only hoping to say hello?" She finds it enjoyable enough to speak to him, so long as she keeps her distance. Not too difficult, as he has his own manners to adhere to.

[airshipswank]

For just an instant Buckingham thinks there is something peculiar in her response, but no culprit offers himself willingly, and he concludes that his curiosity about their latest event must have him eager for new mysteries where none exist. Another time, perhaps.

"Nothing makes for quite so wonderful a day than a chance to greet you, of course, but I... do confess I had another matter on my mind as well."

He stops just in front of the clinic doors, and presses the palm of his hand against the wall. A brief nod at the entrance.

"Have I caught your departure, or your arrival?"

[selfrespecting]

The phrasing of that question strikes her as strange. Martha doesn't really depart or arrive, so much as linger outside and hope that no one catches her doing so. The least said about all this, though, the better. "Neither, really. I was just passing by."

If there's something that Buckingham wants to talk to her about, then they can do it somewhere else. Martha's paranoid that one of her family members is going wander by any time now, and so she starts down the corridor back in the direction of the entrance hall.

"What did you have on your mind?" she asks as they walk. Martha endeavors to remain slightly ahead of Buckingham in her stroll, a conscious effort to avoid close contact.

[airshipswank]

A meeting by mere coincidence, in this of all places? Buckingham would not have expected as much, but he can hardly claim it worth more than passing surprise. She must have pursuits beyond the clinic, just as the clinic must have others to man it. Yet if her presence there is not urgently - not at all - required at the moment, does that not already answer his question?

"A word about the clinic, nothing more," he replies. "One about our current event, I suppose I should say."

He had hoped to see for himself, in fact he'd almost hoped to be invited inside, but it would seem peculiar to demand it; he may be unfamiliar with the institution, but any such medical ward hardly strikes him as the best venue for casual conversation. Besides, Martha's word ought to be more than sufficient.

"Is everyone well, Miss Jones? Wonderland's new... population is an interesting touch, but I have my doubts that it should be the end of it all, wouldn't you agree?"

6/10

[thehobbsgirl]

As a public service, Abigail has acquired twenty or so bathrobes from one of the closets and is leaving them in strategic points around the mansion and grounds. She's got no idea when this event will blow over (if it blows over), but she's already seen way more than her share of naked people trying to sneak in and sprint to their rooms before anyone notices. She's doing this for everyone else's good, but also her own.

She's distributed most of the robes already, has only two left draped over one of her arms. Abigail can't decide where she should stash these last couple robes: it has to be somewhere noticeable, but not too in the way.

(It's better for her to focus on helping with this aspect of the transformations, since she can actually do something. The altered memories, the weird allegiances - those are beyond her control.)

[selfrespecting]

Martha's almost made it back to her room, having miraculously managed to steal her way up the stairs without being spotted. It's the eighth floor hallway that's more the problem now, as the diner is set up on this floor and people are usually there any time of day to grab a meal. If she can just get to her room before someone wanders out of there...

Though as she darts down the hallway, Martha realizes there's someone ahead of her. From behind, all she can see is straight black hair down the girl's back, though she's got two robes looped over her arm.

Martha does what she can to cover herself before calling out. She has no idea why someone is wandering around with the exact thing that she needs to cover herself for the rest of her journey, but at this point the stranger's no doubt heard her footsteps. "Are you handing those out?" she asks, with a tone loud enough that the girl will hear her, but not so loud as to draw a lot of attention.

[thehobbsgirl]

Abigail had heard the footsteps, but hadn't thought much of them: it's a busy hallway, and more than one person has come and go on their way to the diner. Besides, she is preoccupied in trying to decide where to hang the last few coats. But when Martha speaks to her, though, she turns to look, and it only takes a split second for her mind to register naked and for her to look at a spot on the floor a few feet from Martha instead - not out of any prudishness, but out of respect.

"Yes, of course, here," she grabs one of the robes and offers it to Martha, extending her arm but not advancing on Martha at all. On top of being glad that her memories haven't been tampered with, Abigail is profoundly grateful that this event hasn't changed her, because she would feel very vulnerable indeed, if this kind of thing happened to her.

"Least I could do," she explains, once Martha's taken the robe.

[selfrespecting]

Martha appreciates that respect. She never knows if she prefers someone averting their gaze or simply looking right at her without blinking, but what she'd really like is to avoid the issue entirely. The robe allows her to do that, and she grabs for it, sliding her arms through the sleeves and then tying the belt around her waist.

Actually, it's rather soft on top of it all.

"It's very thoughtful of you." Now, how to address the issue of the curse without actually mentioning it? Martha doesn't know if there's a way to do that, and so maybe she would be better off avoiding it entirely. That's safer, when she has no idea how much this girl knows.

"I've never seen you before," she admits. Not family. That's not necessarily a bad thing, Martha just has to be more careful. "What's your name?"

1.

[handing]

"I don't think it's going to disappear if you're not looking."

Okay, so Pepper shouldn't tease her cousin like that. She knew Martha's ambition, her dream of being a doctor. She might not have, if this hadn't been Pepper's third trip down the corridor only to find the other Liddell staring wistfully at the door. If she didn't know better, Pepper might think Martha had been taken by the dog rather than the bird, particularly with the forlorn look in her eyes.

But Pepper is also one of the few in a position to understand Martha's wishes, one of the rare ones who has dared defied family laws for something she truly wanted. How that particular choice is turning out lately aside, she still can't just bypass Martha when she looks like that.

"The question is, how much would it hurt to go inside?"

[selfrespecting]

Martha tenses up the moment that she hears another voice, the muscles in her back constricting. She lets out a breath as she registers who it is, because if anyone is going to cut her some slack on this, it would be Pepper. Pepper, who defied the family to start up a relationship with a member of the opposite sex. Maybe they would have been able to look the other way if it had been another woman, but the fact that she's so often in danger of revealing the curse means that the rest of the family takes serious issue with her choices.

Not Martha, though. She understands how painful it is to long for something you can't have, and she respects Pepper for being brave enough to go for it, regardless of what the family has to say.

She slowly turns to face her, a sheepish look on her face. "A lot, probably," she says frankly, giving the open door one last glance. "Or I just wouldn't be able to stop myself from asking questions, and then someone would notice." Someone not as forgiving as Pepper.

[handing]

Martha's understanding is one of the reasons why Pepper likes her, and wants to encourage her to go in. Those family members closest to her had supported her, if not her choice then her desire for happiness. Others, however, had acted on their disapproval in often harsh ways. Martha isn't one of her closer cousins, but she'd still shown a compassion that Pepper appreciates.

So she wants the chance to return that favor. Pepper follows Martha's gaze, giving her a sympathetic smile once the other woman turns back.

"Maybe you're approaching it the wrong way." Because there could be a solution. Certainly the family doesn't want Martha to be a doctor to the public at large. But there are ways to win their approval, however reluctant. "Have you considered training to be the family doctor?"

[selfrespecting]

As curious as Martha might be, she knows that staying here won't lead anywhere good, and so she nods to Pepper and makes her way down the hall. She doesn't have anywhere in particular that she plans to go, but she's moving in the direction of the entrance hall.

Pepper's suggestion happens to be one that Martha's thought over before, but there are reasons that she's uncertain if it would even be possible.

"Maybe I could, but... I don't know, I imagine that the family doctor gets exposed to a lot of secrets. The family heads would want that to be someone who they trust, and I'm not sure I fall into that category." Which has nothing to do with how trustworthy she is, but a lot more to do with her age. She's probably too young to be a doctor, in their minds.

"I would also need more schooling, and I'm not sure they're willing to let me go." Too many risks involved.

2 - 6/09

[cursebreaking]

Keeping track of Lucky was proving more difficult than usual this weekend -- all of a sudden, he had a couple dozen friends his own size in the mansion, and any time Emma turned her back, he ran off again. She'd noticed that there was a common denominator -- he wasn't the only dog that kept wandering away from his owner, and the girl from the bar always seemed to be right in the middle of it when she did find where he'd run off to. Popular lady with the canine population, though this time, locating Jo and Lucky was a little tougher than it had been the day before.

Emma is walking the grounds as she searches, sighing heavily and cupping her hands to her mouth to call out -- as if the dog could answer. He was stubborn about running back to her when things were normal, if only because he missed Henry so much. She was pretty damn sure that was exactly why Lucky had chosen to cop an attitude with her, but he was still her responsibility. She couldn't let him tear off to wherever just because he was feeling rebellious.

"Lucky! Not funny anymore, come on!"

This time, she hears a startled flutter of wings when she yells, and glancing upwards reveals that there no less than ten or twelve songbirds perched on the nearest branch. She squints one eye at them before heaving a sigh.

"Mary Margaret would probably just ask you guys to form a search party if she were here."

How her mother understood bird, she'll never know.

SORRY I HAVE NO BIRD ICONS

[selfrespecting]

The yell startles Martha much like the rest of the birds, but while a few of them go flying off in search of a quieter place to sing their songs, Martha stays put.

It's Emma down there, and she's in search of her dog. Henry's dog. Martha had seen Lucky race past her just a few minutes ago, in the direction of the forest. She adjusts her pose on the perch and twitters innocently, but already she's wondering what she could do to help.

The remark about Mary Margaret causes Martha to tilt her head. What does that even mean? She'll have to ask some other time.

The least she can do is lead Emma in the right direction. Just get her headed toward the woods, and then she'll fly off and find a safe place to transform. For now, though, she spreads her wings and takes off, soaring down to hover a few feet in front of Emma.

She shouldn't speak, that would give far too much away, but she can let out a few notes of song to get her attention, at least.

[cursebreaking]

Oh God. Was it genetic? She leans back a little, wary -- like there's anything to beware of with a nightingale.

"Can you... understand me?"

Well. Maybe she shouldn't be so surprised. Dogs and cats understood their people, after all, but they had time to learn. Did birds understand everything they heard the people around them say, too? Or maybe this one was just especially bright.

Or maybe she had inherited bird-whispering.

She snorts. "What's up, Tweety, did Timmy fall down the well?"

[selfrespecting]

Martha feels awful, but she has no choice but to deceive Emma like this. Maybe it would be easier if she didn't interact at all, so the temptation to speak back wouldn't be so strong, but she wants to help her friend. It doesn't matter that she's not family, not to Martha.

She's had enough jokes made that she doesn't take to them very well, not that she could respond even if she wanted to.

Instead, she flies a quick circle around Emma's head, though not too close to set her flailing, and then starts to fly in the direction that Lucky had gone.

Follow me, is what she's trying to say, and she's confident that Emma's smart enough to figure that out. Whether or not she'll trust a bird that can understand English is another story.

2;

[oversight]

[ Where Martha might feel at home with songbirds, John feels at home with Martha. As family, they've been close enough, but more times than not, he thinks of her as a very close friend, as she provides more to him than just the familial connection. They trust each other, care for each other, and that's worth something.

Fluttering into her tree, John comes to a rest upside-down, those large leathery wings awkwardly flapping until he can get them wrapped around his body. He's much, much larger than Martha, but not lacking in a grace of his own. ]

You okay?

[ She seems spooked. And why shouldn't she be? With all these clumsy folks hanging around, most of them are transformed half the time these days. ]

[selfrespecting]

[A bat doesn't exactly belong with a group of nightingales, and some of the other birds apparently take offense at Blake's very presence, with the way they fly off in search of another tree to perch on.

They're simple animals, they no doubt feel threatened, and Martha has spent enough time with Blake that she thinks they both expect it.

So long as none of the regular humans notice the two of them grouped together, it shouldn't be a problem.]

It's always a bit of a heart attack, changing out of the blue like this. I just hope I was quick enough that they didn't see.

[That telltale smoke gives them a chance to get away, at least those of them with wings. Small and quick, it works to their advantage.]

How've you been? [Martha hops on her branch to face Blake and tweets in greeting, more of a habit than anything else.]

[oversight]

Driven batty. Literally.

[ You know, because he doesn't have to like what's going on to acknowledge it's existence. And honestly, he wants to complain. Mostly because he knows Martha's upset with the way people are careless, but also because he's had a family this whole time and he feels entitled to bitch. ]

You? Other'n the obvious.

[ Shifting down the branch a little, he makes room for her as an offer, but won't feel bad if she doesn't take him up on it. ]

[selfrespecting]

[As soon as Blake makes room for her on the branch, Martha quickly hops down onto his perch. The few brave nightingales who have remained in this tree probably think she's absolutely mad, but she's not too concerned about that.]

About the same, really. Without the clever pun, but... [She can do without that.]

Is it just me, or does it seem like everyone's been having these clumsy mishaps a lot more often lately?

[Is it the full moon or something? She doesn't think so.]

2

[likesimpossible]

The Doctor wasn't lucky enough (or unlucky, however you wanted to look at it) to gain wings. Instead, what he'd gotten were some very stubby legs (he was a bear of some kind, specifically, a red panda), but those were only a problem if he happened to actually transform.

And, as luck would have it, he currently was transformed at the moment. It wasn't so bad, although it wasn't preferable either. He was definitely a bit slow, although he could manage a decent scamper if it came to it, at least.

He peered up at the rafters above him, thinking he might recognize one of those songbirds perched up there. Hopefully his voice would carry from where he was on the ground.

"You alright up there?"

[selfrespecting]

Martha tended to pride herself on her ability to blend in well enough to even hide from some of her family members, but that never quite worked with the Doctor. He knew her too well, could somehow spot her from a mile away even when she had placed herself among other nightingales.

In a way, though, she appreciated that at least someone was able to do that. She chirped in greeting and then took flight so she could make the long trip down to where he waited, also in his animal form.

She landed a few inches away from him and readjusted her feathers, then nodded in greeting.

"As well as I can be, given the circumstances. What happened to you?" Maybe it was just her, but it seemed like a lot of them had been changing more often then usual these past few days.

[likesimpossible]

Oh, well, all things considered, Martha was rather good at keeping herself to herself, but that never really quite worked with the Doctor, at least not in the same way that it did with other people. Maybe it was because he knew her just a bit too well, or maybe it was just his natural skills at- Well, something coming into play. But either way, Martha wasn't hard to find, not for him.

Once she landed a little closer to him, he nodded in return, smiling as best as he could, what with his bear features. At least, his lips turned up, so hopefully the desired effect was there. "Oh, you know, the usual. Walked into someone and tried to make a quick escape before they saw anything."

At least it was purely by accident that he'd changed, but still, he didn't really like it.

[selfrespecting]

It was strange to see a red panda trying to smile, but Martha at least got the idea. The Doctor only meant well. She couldn't even begin to try and smile back, not when she had a beak, and so instead she just hopped closer to him to show her interest.

The usual, indeed. Martha nodded and let out a tweet that did a surprisingly good job of sounding long-suffering. It had become something of a talent of hers, to express her emotions through bird call.

"Same here. I don't know why that's been happening so often lately." But it made her nervous. Just like carrying on a conversation with the Doctor in the middle of the mansion when they're both in animal form made her nervous.

"We should probably move to a place where we can transform more safely."