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Post by Susan Foreman on Jul 25, 2011 19:29:47 GMT -5
Susan Foreman – or Arkytior as she had been known as on Gallifrey – was a very curious Time Lady. This curiosity, however, did not decide to question Malcolm. There was a difference between curiosity and interrogation. She didn’t want to know the consequences of what would happen if it backfired; not to say that she didn’t know them, but she would have much preferred to have been ignorant to the whole ordeal. Instead she just smiled half-heartedly when he nodded and looked back to the ground.
She also decided not to ask any questions when he growled at the mess they were in. What was it to her if the man was a vicious demon hell-bent on fixing the mess he made? Not that the man was vicious (or a demon for that matter), but Susan was willing to let the man do whatever he jolly well pleased. “It wasn’t entirely your fault,” she said awkwardly. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”
“Agreed,” he said, taking the Manipulator from her. “Okay, I’m going to need you about a hundred feet back, away from the blast. When I get done, I’ll come back and get you back to the city we were in. Then we can go our separate ways – I might even manipulate time so that we never met, if you like. Ready?”
Susan frowned at his suggestion about manipulating it so that they had never met but shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll talk about what we’ll do after this later,” she said lamely, not too excited about being forced about standing far away from the action. However, she was used to being coddled from the action from her grandfather. How many times had he made her hide? Too many to count, to be sure.
“Sure,” she said, turning on her heel sharply and walked away, counting under her breath until she reached one hundred. “If you get yourself killed, I’m going to stomp on your remains!” she called, a bit too cheerfully for the morbidity of her statement.
ooc | edit; haha, I just realised how it looks like I manipulated his speech to make it look like he was agreeing with her about it not being his fault. XDD Didn't mean to. Just thought it was amusing.. [/b][/size]
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Post by The Second Doctor on Jul 26, 2011 17:13:35 GMT -5
“We’ll talk about what we’ll do after this later,”
Yeah, sure we will. he thought sarcastically. "Okay." he answered.
He was never one to speak much, mostly because of how many mistakes riddled his speech, but he especially didn't want to spend extended periods of time talking to her. If he had a nickel for every time he had offended Susan...
“Sure,” she said, “If you get yourself killed, I’m going to stomp on your remains!” she called, a bit too cheerfully.
"I'm in love with your confidence in me." he commented, jumping from his position to about a hundred feet above the rift, his travel ripping it open. He had set the Manipulator to a high time-space frequency, pulling parts of time over it. He fell faster and faster, like an anvil in a waterfall.
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Post by Susan Foreman on Jul 29, 2011 21:42:36 GMT -5
“Okay,” the man responded simply. He didn’t seem to be a fan of speaking, but Susan couldn’t be sure. She had already been harsh with the man more than once – and both times he hadn’t done anything on purpose. She glanced at him, trying to figure out whether she had irrevocably burned this bridge or not. He did seem like a nice person, underneath the layer of thick affable grumpiness.
Unfortunately, Susan herself wasn’t much different than what she presented herself as. She was cynical, guarded, and hot-tempered towards even her closest associates. Despite her fiercest and valiant efforts to be a decent person – she generally ended up landing in a person’s bad graces permanently. And when people gave her the chance to be friendly – she was frequently too socially inept to figure it out.
This reason was why she didn’t reply to his half-hearted ‘okay’. There were a lot of things she would have said if she had more nerve – I really don’t think you’re an idiot being one of the ones that was sticking to the tip of her tongue. The poor guy had been through a lot, and she quite certainly wasn’t helping by putting him down.
Instead, she just made a blithe comment about stomping on his remains.
“I’m in love with your confidence in me.”
“And I’m in love with your ego,” she responded harshly, crossing her arms. She watched with a flicker of anxiety as he jumped above the rift. She took a step closer, biting her lip harshly.
This wasn’t a good idea, Susan,[/color] her mind snapped irritably at her. ooc| ah, sorry about the lame post. I really wasn't sure how to respond. 3: Just tell me what I need to change~ [/font][/size]
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Post by Malcolm Asutian on Aug 12, 2011 10:15:55 GMT -5
Malcolm tumbled through the air. This wasn't a very good idea Malcolm.
And it wasn't. But this was his mess, he was going to fix it, and he was very glad there were people like Susan to help. Speaking of Susan, he pulled out her Vortex Manipulator and in the split second it took to choose which one to keep through his at the top of the building. What he hadn't told Susan, part of the reason he hadn't wanted her along, was because he would probably die if he didn't time this just right. Or break all the bones in his right leg.
A satisfying chirp filled the air as the manipulator hit the building, but it wasn't destroyed yet. It was primed and ready, right above the rift. He fell, gaining momentum all the time. Malcolm strained his foot out so that it would hit the Manipulator right in the middle...
Boom!
Just as he hit it, it exploded, sending back up into the air. He fell again, teleporting a long way before he hit the ground, and ending up on the ground. "That was easy."
BOOM!
Another explosion, and blue flames rose up in a vortex of time, just like earlier. Things began being sucked into it, soldiers, Eskimos, natives from distant islands... "I hope everyone saw that because I am not doing it again." he claimed.
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Post by Susan Foreman on Aug 12, 2011 11:51:22 GMT -5
Susan sat on the ground, idly picking at grass until he made his return. Well, if he returned. The idea had been foolish in almost too many ways to work. It certainly wasn’t as though she personally cared whether the man lived or died, she just needed some form of company. Maybe she would just go buy a goldfish.
She cringed at the first explosion, and she imagined his body parts splaying all over the ground in front of her. Susan brought her knees against her chest, resting her forehead against boney kneecaps. Maybe she wasn’t a fan of loud noises.
“That was easy,” a voice said next to her. She raised her head cautiously. Well, there weren’t any body parts around her. She shifted her gaze to Malcolm, making sure he had the correct amount of limbs.
She raised an eyebrow. “Easy? You nearly killed yourself, idiot,” she snapped. Susan barely repressed a yelp as another, louder explosion sounded in her ears. She bit her lip harshly, drawing blood. “You certainly have a penchant for dramatics,” she said, watching the rift draw the misplaced people inside of it.
“I hope everyone saw that because I am not doing it again,” the man said.
Susan rolled her eyes and picked herself up, brushing off her dress and jacket. “Well, everyone heard it for sure,” she told him grumpily.
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Post by Malcolm Asutian on Aug 16, 2011 8:44:30 GMT -5
Susan raised an eyebrow. “Easy? You nearly killed yourself, idiot,” Malcolm frowned as his eyebrows tightened in. "What's your problem?" he calmly asked.
“You certainly have a penchant for dramatics,” she said.
"I guess I do. But hey, only one life to live, why not be over the top?" he asked, smiling slightly.
He fiddled with the manipulator, muttering something like "Sorry about your lip."
"Well, everyone heard it for sure."
Malcolm scratched his ear. "Sensitive hearing much?"
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Post by Susan Foreman on Aug 25, 2011 11:27:42 GMT -5
“What’s your problem?” the man asked. Susan stared at him, floundering inwardly for words. Her problem? Her problem had little to do with the man. She shook her head gently, deciding that the comment had been more to make fun of the way she’d been overreacting, not a genuine interest for her problems. But what was her problem? What was eating away at Susan Foreman, the granddaughter of the Doctor? Why – even after meeting with her grandfather – was she still angry at everything? There had to be a reason. There had to be a clear, tangible, solvable reason. There was some solution, a way to solve her, a way to piece her back together.
Instead of telling the man all of that, she simply glowered at him and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.
“I guess I do,” he said in response to her comment about his dramatics. “But hey, only one life to live, why not be over the top?”
She picked herself up, staring down at him curiously. “I would very much like to think the way that you do,” Susan said bluntly, sticking her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “I think that… maybe next time, when I die, I won’t regenerate. Then I can only have just one life,” she pondered, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
“Sensitive hearing? Oh, right. It just… reminded me of a gunshot. I’ve had enough guns pointed at me to last me for quite a while,” she muttered. She smiled suddenly, remembering that she hadn’t actually introduced herself to him.
“I’m called Susan. Susan Foreman,” she said, grinning. “And you?”
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Post by Malcolm Asutian on Sept 11, 2011 1:10:07 GMT -5
“I would very much like to think the way that you do,” She said, sticking her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “I think that… maybe next time, when I die, I won’t regenerate. Then I can only have just one life,”
Malcolm didn't know what this meant, so he smiled and shrugged. "Maybe so."
“Sensitive hearing? Oh, right. It just… reminded me of a gunshot. I’ve had enough guns pointed at me to last me for quite a while,” She smiled suddenly, remembering something.
"Oh... I'm sorry." he said lamely.
"I’m called Susan. Susan Foreman,” she said, grinning. “And you?”
"Malcolm Asutian." he replied.
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Post by Susan Foreman on Sept 12, 2011 19:29:10 GMT -5
“My husband wanted to name our son Malcolm,” Susan said, putting her hands behind her back thoughtfully. “I told him that it sounded like a thug name,” she said, grinning at him. All right, maybe that wasn’t the best way to earn any friends, but it wasn’t as though she had much more to lose. Malcolm did seem pretty friendly, even though he did have a knack for intuitively finding the subjects that she hated to talk about. Wasn’t his fault, though. Some people just had an innate ability to aggravate her. Not that he was, not anymore. (He wasn’t really speaking now that he had offended her…)
“I was joking,” she said belatedly. “It’s a nice name.”
She was silent for a few moments, trying to discern whether this was an appropriate point in time to run off and continue with her life. She looked down at herself awkwardly; her dress was scuffed up, her knees scraped and her arm picked at miserably. “Don’t be sorry about the gun. It was mostly my fault. I really thought the Doctor was going to kill me this time,” she said thoughtfully.
Would’ve been easier if he did.
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