Jenny laid in bed, resisting the urge to just get up. Apparently going over a month without an hour of sleep isn't good for a young Gallifreyan, and maybe the attempt to be rebellious wasn't her best plan, probably only made her grounding worse. But it wasn’t like sitting still was something she was used to, and that couldn't change. And yet she was grounded. Her. Little Miss Messaline. In the TARDIS. Grounded. Did he ever feel like this? Maybe she needed more hobbies. Toy cars? LEGO outside of City or Friends? Maybe more drawings outside of plain old sketches? Friends outside of adventures? Maybe she could text Rose. Or… fudge it, she was gonna text her ‘cousin’.
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J-1: sis?
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J-1: Ro
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J-1: Ro-ro?
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J-1: u up?
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J-1: rose
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R-2: its like 2am, why the heck r u up
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J-1: I sleep 1 hour 1 time a month
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R-2: of course u do -_-
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R-2: Where r u
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J-1: Ramonia
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J-1: Ramona
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J-1: RomANNAANA
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J-1: auto-correct :(
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R-2: Romania?
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J-1; yessssss
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J-1; bored
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J-1: grounded from touching console
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R-2: why
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J-1: almost started WW6 a few years early by accident
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R-2: wth
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J-1: I had a plant, we were in turkey- had Pond in my bag
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R-2: forgot you had a cat tbh
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J-1: you mean our cat
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R-2: I’m not the one who wanted him
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J-1: but he’s cute
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R-2: he was cuter as a tabby
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J-1: how was I supposed to know he’d regen into a calico
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R-2: why the heck are you in Romania
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J-1: something about dad-daughter thing
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J-1: totally keeping secrets
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R-2; I’m telling Donna
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J-1: how is they all
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R-2: ‘they all’ ?
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J-1: dont feel like typin right
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R-2: oh. Mums mad you two just vanished, grans making another sausage roll to not deal with it, dads put the footie on, grandad is still asleep. You?
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J-1: don’t wanna sleep, Pond is somewhere and idk where, dad is prolly mad at me. Tell Donna he stole the jammie dodgers
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R-2: did he (ง •̀_•́)ง
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J-1: ye 〴⋋_⋌〵＼(〇O〇)／＼(｀0´)／(╯°□°）╯(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞┬─┬ノ(ಠ_ಠノ)Ψ(`_´ )
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R-2: Why did I teach you how to make emoticons
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J-1: because we wanted to confuse my dad :)
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R-2; love you, cuz.
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J-1: love u 2.
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Well, that sounded a lot better in my head.
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Fudge. She was missing seeing her. She was missing humans. Great.
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He knew she was probably sneaking out, he'd already made dinner, they'd already eaten. Maybe taking apart a toaster to see if he could make it into a microwave wasn't the best idea. She was snapped out of it by other thoughts. Probably the dinner. Her dad was an ok cook.. ok.. ok.. ok.. Just a word. A shorter version of one word. Rust. Red dust? Her project was a bit rusted. Trying to look up its entomology... that was the study of insects. Great. Oh, right. She had a phone. Forgot to write that in.
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He could be a great cook, sometimes not always, brain wasn't always working the same, rewired, might be the same brain which has constantly changed, might be a renewed one, but still. The issue is that if he starts cooking one thing, he keep 'might as well-ing' until he's working on six recipes at once, all four burners are going, every dish in Donna's kitchen is now dirty, and tomorrow's breakfast is cooking next to tonight's dinner "because it'll save time in the morning!" Yes, the carbonada recipe they got from that lovely old man in Argentina is delicious, but dinner is interrupted by the bread they forgot he left in the oven, Jenny losing track while she's meant to be learning with him and-
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Muppets. She didn't know why, but she liked it. She liked something from earth. Heck, she'd watched it with Rose. It was like.. having a sister. Oh. Oh no, she was understanding. She'd gotten attached. But that's good, right? Maybe some patience was worth keeping it up... but months in some place on earth, still in one era, time always moving slowly, forwards, in the right order. Slowly, forwards, in the right order. Slowly, forwards, in the right order. She needed excitement, not just kicking up a ball, or painting a fence! Why should she sit around while the world keeps turning? Dad expected her to be like him. To be nice, go be kind. Right now, she just wanted adventure. Friends. Adventure, friends. Adventure friends. Buddies. Pals. Ok, maybe just have the chance to hang out with people. Why should she listen? He's a madman with a box, and why can't she have a rebellious phase? It sounded cool. No, no, no. Friendship should come first. Maybe she could show someone the game room? The library? It was a bit late for the game room... late, late.. maybe if she had a time mac- no, that can't help that she's tired. And any sort of being ‘rebellious’ and acting like she didn’t care had probably lead to her grounding getting worse.
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He was tracing back some on-the-spot wiring repairs he made on the TARDIS ages ago trying to remember what the issue was and just what in the universe be did to 'fix' it. He didn't need his daughter to see that he was a subpar Time Lord. She could already see he was a dork! Wait, she was enough like him.. maybe that wasn't so bad.
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She could find somewhere to read. Maybe a book could do her some good. Was she... starting to enjoy something close to a normal life? Oh. Fine. She’d deal with it until after they left. Then she’d get an adventure. Was that so much to ask?
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Why did he make this choice? To deviate from Time Lord norms? Because he believed life was for the living! Taking risks and biting off more than you can chew! And also, people were yelling, and he got confused about the rules.
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Maybe she could play Monopoly with friends. That was a good game, right? UNO with the Nobles didn't go well. She was still... upset, that's the word.
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🎶 I could be brown, I could be blue, I coy do be violet sky, I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like! 🎶 He wasn't expecting to enjoy an earth song from the 2000's this much! He didn't even know his voice was echoing down the halls.
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Oh no, dad was up. Quick, mavity gloves! Jumping, pressing herself against the wall, a firm, well, having her palm and fingers spread out, one hand on the ceiling, and a little swing, more momentum... she needed to push her hand against it harder.. there, both hands. But then she got distracted. Her arms. The bite mark, some scratches. That thing got its hands on her. No. Not-thing. Still fresh in her memory. But why still fresh? It was a few months ago now. But why did she have those lines in her head? When did she hear those? A planet spinning at a thousand miles an hour, falling through space, hurtling around a flaming ball, a ship that could go anywhere in space and time just clinging to it? She was Jenny, for crying out loud. She could manage talking to a couple of humans, right? Tomorrow, some friend of dads from his group. Two kids. He'd said she might get along with them.
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Same dad support group, heck, it was nice to meet one of Jenny's friends dads through the group. Nice man, they were going to go fishing at some point, maybe last decade. And then there was wiring all of UNIT's electric kettles to one button, having his daughter along, showing maps of the universe, showing off inventing to her... still. A friend
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Headphones. Human thing. Maybe she would like music. Open the phone.. why did he add a hologram projector? Could be good to mess with someone with... still, music. Music, music, music.
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🎶 Everything Is Awesome! Everything Is Cool When You're Part Of A Team! 🎶 Maybe it’s time to try and apply that to life.
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Rollerblading. With his daughter. He'd always wanted to go fast! Nowhere near the speed of some species, but still!
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She may be young, but even she could see he'd lied about why they were there. Something had to be going on. A mystery. She liked that word. Didn't help dad got her to read Agatha Christie, then they ended up watching Columbo- still, maybe an adventure.
🎶 Let's party forever! 🎶
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Did he really deserve them? He's been running his whole life, and now... he's supposed to stop? Supposed to heal? He's faced with the one challenge he's been too scared to face...
The hot chocolate was barely warm now, he was just staring into space... not literally, contemplating just how much he doesn't deserve to be here...
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She had a few shirts scarred in her room. A white t-shirt that says 'Breaking News: I Don't Care', a grey t-shirt saying 'Of course I talk to myself, sometimes I need expert advice', seemed more like a dad thing, so much she could learn- A white long-sleeved shirt saying 'I want YOU for an adventure', a black t-shirt saying 'The Angels Have The Phone Box', a t-shirt in TARDIS blue, saying 'KEEP CALM and RUN FOR YOUR LIFE', and then a black t-shirt that said 'YOU BETTER RUN'. Dad had picked up some of them, one of them may have been from Donna, and the adventure one? Picked up with Rose... it felt like a nice day, but would she admit that?
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Heck, Donna found him stuck in the fridge! He'd sung with Shaun, done... human things. But that was never the life he'd set out for.
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Meow. There he, maybe she, was. Pond. Always regenerating. A cat after her own hearts. Six- no- five fingers reaching out to stroke the cat's head... eyes not working like a humans, thinking on their own, don't question it. Mirror-flecked, but with the filter? Hidden. Right. Library. She was distracted again.
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Eggs. He sold eggs now, Mr Eggs, that's who he was now. The sonic didn't help with IKEA furniture.
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Jenny kicked back on a beanbag. Not the boots, but grey comfy slippers shaped like alien heads at the front... little plush cartoony alien heads. UFO patterned bottoms, top with an alien pattern, a monochrome scarf.. greys whites and blacks, blue reindeer antlers she could just slip onto her head... nice Christmas. For once, she could just sit still, have a plushie of her cuddled up in her arms, Pond on her lap, and read The Wizard Of Oz. "Wicked."
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He'd already lost four credit cards, and that was already embarrassing, but the failed ear piercing... ow. It still stung a little. He needed to drink more water.
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She'd fallen asleep.
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He sighed. One more adventure. Maybe a series of encounters over the next three months. Would the Noble-Temple's find out? Obviously. Will he maybe get a pat on the back for saving the world? Yes. Will he get chewed out for lying? Obviously, what else would happen in his life? If he had 50-50 chance of surviving Donna, and perhaps a 50-50 chance of surviving her, then he felt fairly confident in saying that he had 100-0 chance of defeating the possible problem. No prizes awarded for figuring out on which side of the odds he stood. And that wasn't counting if Jenny delivered a flying kick to somebody's face.
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And that's when the sound of a beep from the TARDIS caught him off-guard.
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"Left her room, hasn't she?"
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Another beep.
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"Well, gotta commend her for being so quiet, at least."
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A few beeps.
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The Doctor sighed a little, "Yeah, doesn't mean she isn't still grounded for that." making his way to his room. He had a hammock in there now. Hammocks are cool. He'd tried to teach her what he knew... ok, maybe doing it to a mind this young wasn't the best plan. As his eyes closed.. he knew something. They had to talk... in the realm of dreams. Huh. Made it cooler than it actually was. Time for some tales from the TARDIS.
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Jenny’s eyes fluttered open, sitting back in a recliner, sitting next to a console unit. But this can’t have been the TARDIS she knew. Roundelled walls deep inset the white walls, white walls? Not as bright as it was for a while. Rectangular columns, flecks of gold. A larger, circular, secondary view screen was set into one of the walls. Some of the railings were rounded, with golden bars, an aqua time rotor, a few bookshelves against one wall, a custard cream dispenser where the coffee maker usually was.
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To Donna, it would’ve been around May when Jenny was born. Not that they kept track. They just said what it approximately was. She was, what, three now? Maybe eight years old. Maybe older. Not for another three thousand, nine hundred and eighty eight years. Being at the companion meet-up was fun. Not that she’d called herself more than a companion. They’d probably be confused as heck if they knew he’d had a daughter. And her creation… that was harder to explain. Chesterson. Polly. Benton. Jo. Tegan. Graham. Mel. Ace.
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“Where on earth?” Jenny pushed her hands against the armrests, standing on her own two feet. “This can’t be the TARDIS.”
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But it could be. It could’ve changed its look while she was asleep. Maybe she’d been having one long dream. And now she was up.
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But there were cracks of light as the room… changed, maybe hints of flesh, pulsating, metal lodged inside… the room was suddenly filled with all sorts of electronic clutter, such as some old television sets, and a number of differently designed control panels sticking out of various points of the wall, with an all too familiar curve to it. She was now closer to the centre of the room were a couple of comfy chairs placed on either side of some kind of lit-up crystal-like structure on the floor, like a supplement for an actual fireplace, but on the ceiling was a flipped version of a console that looked all too familiar, a custard cream landing in her hand.
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“Well, in a manner of speaking, it is.” A very familiar voice came from… nearby. It looked like… dad. Well, which face, you may ask? Well, it’s a Tennant face. The specials one. But, of course, adjusted for alternate universes sake. You’ll see later. Well, read. He was in a maroon herringbone-tweed blazer, a grey and turquoise pyjama shirt, mahogany-brown trousers and caramel brown slip-on shoes, socks unseen.
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“Dad?“ Jenny’s expression was clearly confused.
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“Ah, right lass. I really do need to explain. Maybe this is the memory of the TARDIS itself, pulling us and itself in for some old memories, maybe this is running on the stories of our past, maybe we’re from different timelines, maybe you’re dreaming, perhaps I’m dreaming, maybe it doesn’t matter anyway.” If he were to shatterfry the plasmic shell and modify the dimensional stabiliser to a foldback harmonic of 36.3... he’d accelerate the growth speed by 591… one day… they wouldn’t be adventuring together.
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“Can we just cut to the chase?” Jenny resisted the urge to tap her foot. Doing it in slippers just didn’t have the same effect as doing it in boots.
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“Let’s catch up, some of our old journeys. Ponds, Clara, Bill, Donna, whatever comes up first.” The version of her dad sat back in the other chair, looking almost blonde…
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“Like a memory den?” Jenny suddenly questioned.
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“Exactly, and who doesn’t love some adventure, my wee adventurer? A place of nostalgia, and after all, who doesn't love listening to a good story? The sad stories, the happy stories, and everything in-between.”
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One of the screens flickered, displaying the words ‘The Doctor’s Daughter.’
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Something dropped in Jenny’s stomach. Bad memories. Her first few hours alive.
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“Ace didn’t want to either. But maybe it’s time to reflect on it. From both perspectives.”
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Jenny sighed, before a small smile broke on her face.
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“Alons-y.”
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And now, back to The Sands!
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Soon enough, that same night, they arrived. Once again, Jordan and Hunter were barely keeping their eyes open.
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David knocked on the door... one huge place. "Hello?"
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The three brought in their luggage, only one case and three suitcases. Jordan couldn't bring herself to smile. Did this place even have a Wi-Fi router?
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The three turned their backs, the door automatically closing behind them, turned around again...
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There she was, a woman, black hair in a weird style... a bit taller than David. Jordan moved some of her hair behind her ear.
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No-nonsense, with her arms crossed.
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David let out a slightly nervous chuckle, lifting his right hand, offering it out to shake, "Uh, hello I'm.. David Sands?" He said it almost wondering if she knew who they were. "You must be-"
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She cut him off, "Madame Varcolac." She had a Romanian accent, which was to be expected, but the sound of a wolf howling was... not expected, all three of them glancing around. A second howl followed.
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"You 'vill follow me." Madame Varcolac turned a hundred and eighty degrees, leading them up the long, wooden staircase, another howl coming.
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They were halfway up when David opened his mouth, "So, how long have you lived here?"
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Madame Varcolac paused, not saying a word, not turning to look at them. With her luck, he'd be here soon, and then her migraines would come back. The karaoke wouldn't be the same. There was another howl.
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"Just trying to make conversation." He kept following the tall, scary woman, ignoring what may be a small animal skull on the wall. But when they reached the top, she turned another 180 degrees, now facing them, causing David to stop in his tracks.
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Once they were in a small line in front of the woman, Madame Varcolac spoke, ignoring another howling noise, "Boy, girl. Your rooms." She pulled out a laser pointer that was attached to a keyring, on a separate string seemingly attached somewhere to her clothes, "This Vay." She pointed it behind them, causing all three to turn their heads again.
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Then she looked at David, "Father," She pulled another 180. "Your room, that 'vay." She turned around once more; making the three of them step back slightly, "Have 'von rule, stay in room at night. Lock door."
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"But that's two rules-" Hunter voiced, cut off by his father.
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"Hunter, don't argue with Madame Varcolac," Another wolf howling could be heard, twice-over. The three once again looked around in confusion.
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Madame V cracked her neck. David spoke once again, "Okay, go to bed." Jordan opened her mouth, but- "Go. Lock your doors,"
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He called after them "I'm locking mine, love you." He turned back to Madame Varcolac, another howl, failing to get past her, eventually proceeding past with his small suitcase. He'd had his messages with John in the taxi, it would be nice to see him face to face.
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As Hunter and Jordan walked down the hallway, "Hey, check this out." His attention focussed on a piece of art, framed on the wall, wolves in front of some trees, something written around the top. "To Dragomir, the strength of the pack is the wolf," Jordan looked over, "and the strength of the wolf is the pack, best wished Rudyard Kipling." He paused to look at his sister, "That's what mom always used to say, but who's this Kipling dude?"
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Jordan couldn't hide a smile, a chance to be the smart one. "It's from the Jungle Book, by Runyard Kipling." She looked at the picture once more, "Mom was quoting him," She paused. "Didn't Kipling die in the 1930's?" "C'mon, let's go." She tried to pick up her suitcase from underneath, struggling for a few seconds. She sure would've had energy if this wasn't an emotionally taxing day. Goodbyes hurt. "I don't think I wanna see her angry."
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"Get to rooms!" The voice of Madame Varcolac echoed down the hall.
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Hunter nodded. They agreed for once, setting their way down the hall, Hunter taking the first door to the left, Jordan the first to the right.
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Jordan took a said to press her back against the door as it closed, forgetting to lock it. But between both of them, both rooms... they couldn't help but admire. A nice amount of room... in the room. It's a room. It's rooms. Jordan unzipped her bag, pulling out her laptop. Great, there was a WiFi signal... but no password. Great. She would probably spend all night guessing.. but she could just look at old family photos on her camera roll.
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Over with Mr. Middle-Aged, David had entered his room, placing his suitcase onto the bed. But there was a plate of cookies with a blonde woman's painted face on them, disturbingly realistic, and an open window. "What the..." He picked up the small card, reading it aloud, "Properties by Paulina." It said on the front. "My compliments, Paulina Von Ekberg, your local real-estate professional. Hmm... Cookies." He took a bite and smiled, "Good."
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Madame Varcolac- dammit there's that howl again, picked up a phone inside of the Manor. He knew enough.
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"Olga! Been a while, thought I'd pop into the village for a few months, thought I'd give you a call!" Why did he have that accent?
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"You know I do not vish to talk. But I do need information."
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"C'mon, you know me. I'm practically Mr. Information!"
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"I need information on zhe Sands family."
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There was a pause.
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"Oh, I know David. Heck-"
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And he was cut off by the writer, because you've probably got what's coming next figured out.
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Meanwhile...
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It would be a while before she could fly like that again. A few months, and that artificial blood was the only way for nobody to get suspicious. Not to mention the danger of being around there again, but the big boss said so.
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"Ok, I'm back!" She was oddly bubbly. "When's phase two?"
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"When we have the right opportunity to take all of them down at the same time." A red glow enveloped the other individual, now taking on a different appearance entirely, a different height, different eye colour, different skin, different bone structure, old thought patterns... still her, her voice raising in pitch in a burst of sudden excitement. "And we can finally feast on this planet!"
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18/4/24
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Jordan awoke with a serious case of bed hair, not even bothering to put a brush through it, simply forcing herself out of bed, almost missing her glasses on the nightstand, putting them on. Great, now she could tie her hair, change her clo- no, wait, she'd fallen asleep in her regular clothes. Great. Nails were still sharp. Who cared? She could worry about being presentable when she was old enough to work. Pupils still a bit thin, closer to an animals? Still not caring. She'd probably just been looking between pictures until she fell asleep. There was a fresh set of folded clothes set on the table next to her, a dark green leather jacket on top. In this weather? No way. It did look kinda cool, though.
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Hunter woke with a serious case of bed hair, trying to pat it down, failing. He'd fallen asleep on his laptop, one shoe off, one shoe on, little Hunter Sands with his trousers on. Why am I using trousers on a non-British character? Don't want to swap English type. He felt... hungrier than usual.
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Both opened their doors, barely awake. Not even the energy to bicker. But it would be nice for Jordan to not have to make a meal for a change.
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Both trudged down the hall, passing a copy of H.G Wells 'The Time Machine' on the desk, with a sticky note on the front, reading 'Thought you could use something to read, put something in that empty library. Come on, reading is cool. It's nice, it's a break from reality, really. So what if it got burnt from the inside once? Is this too formal? Well, then you'd be getting into the definition of formal, as an adjective, it means done in accordance with convention or etiquette; suitable for or constituting an official or important occasion- or officially sanctioned or recognised, and then there's- - D.'
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Eventually, both siblings sat down at a wooden table, just off from the kitchen. David didn't even bother to have some big realisation that his kids were intentionally sitting apart from each other. Further away, less fighting. Plates, a bowl, knives, forks, spoons, cups? Already set out, one jug of water and one jug of orange juice, and a cup of coffee for David.
However, David had a cup full of coffee.
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Madame Varcolac, there's that damned howl again, walked in from the kitchen, a large silver plater with a lid on top. She walked in between Jordan and Hunter before placing it onto the tabletop.
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Jordan tried to speak up, already cut off by Madame Varcolac removing the lid.
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"Bagels and cream cheese, was Dragomir's favourite." She stated simply. David looked at his kids with a look that said 'see?' and gestured for them to take one.
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Just as Madame Varcolac was about to leave, Jordan called her name. "Uh, Madame Varcolac?" Great, another howling noise from nowhere, and more confused looks, "Uh, we're going into town after breakfast. Is there anything you need?"
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"I give you list. Also, you have guest." Madame Varco- Madame V sighed. "Says his name is John."
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"Oh. John. I forgot to mention- he's a friend from my.. group. He was in town, thought I'd ask him and his daughter over, see how things turn out." This was the first time in a while David had had some sort of genuine, non-awkward smile on her face.
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Hunter spoke up, trying to distract the now anxious Jordan, "Is there an internet café around here? I need to get online." After all, three friends back home, first official day of summer vacation, he needed to mastermind his pranks.
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"'Ve have 'vorld 'vide 'veb here, boy."
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"You do?" Hunter asked, clearly surprised. This manor was ancient! Like a fossil...
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Madame Varcolac spoke, still remaining stoic, "Da. Passvord is Brangelina." She laughed, but it was hard to tell if it sounded evil... or forced, causing the two siblings to share a questioning look, but Jordan was more worried about meeting this 'John' guys daughter. She could already feel herself tugging at the string of her hoodie, her jaw tightening. This is just how she got when it came to new people.
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David barely managed to catch the keys Madame Varcolac tossed towards him. "Careful on road, is speedtrap." She then left the room.
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"That was weird." Hunter said, taking a bite of his bagel. Not bad... but he'd be wanting ice cream for breakfast tomorrow.
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Maybe he secretly agreed with him, but David still gave him a light reprimanding, "Hunter."
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Hunter simply did a small shrug, Jordan taking a bite of her bagel.
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And that's when there was four annoying knocks at the door. "Jenny." A Scottish accent came from behind it. "Quit it."
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"Oh come on, we've been standing out here like twenty minutes!" The voice sounded around the kids age, energetic and optimistic.
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David smiled awkwardly, opening the door.
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There stood girl, around Jordan's height, brown eyes, blonde hair in a ponytail that was held up by a black hair tie, a dark blue shirt that said 'I Want YOU For An Adventure', in baggy leggings and what looked like a black bomber jacket, thankfully fabric, not leather, still not a good idea to wear black in the summer, a small wave with a smile on her face, next to her, a tall, skinny man in dark blue longcoat, a slightly darker shirt with rainbow stripes and question marks underneath, a red bow tie, black sunglasses... a black timberland on one foot with black laces from an old boot, and the other a patchwork of a sneaker and a white leather high-top, not that he'd know that. Red, cyan and yellow patches on one sleeve, a techno coloured scarf, an old fob watch in one pocket, sunglasses in the breast pocket, black trousers with a stitch in the middle, or, well, pants to anyone who doesn't speak British English, tartan patches making up part of the second half, the other part being merely grey. Fashion sense of a kid with too much money and free in a clothing store. Thick brown hair with sideburns, stubble, both with a copper tinge, a scar on the right hand, the skin on the left one looking just a bit off, a brilliant grin on his face... and large brown eyes with a five o'clock eye shadow, looking just a bit worn down.
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This is where the line should come, a 'Hello, I'm The Doctor', but instead...
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"David! Hey, it's so good to see you!" The man had his arms as open as his hearts, a grin on his face.
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David wasn't sure how to reply. This was John. John Noble-Temple, which is funny, and I'll explain why later, and he was offering him a hug. John, a guy who apparently spent his time travelling the world, now just... still travelling. At his doorstep.
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Jenny did a little wave, her smile becoming a grin.
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No, no way. That man... some of the faces from the pictures...
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First, from Jordan. "What?"
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Then from Hunter. "What?!"
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And then, from Jenny. "What?"
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