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Post by The Master on Dec 21, 2011 13:55:05 GMT -5
The final tumbler clicked, a quiet sound that seemed as loud as a gunshot in the stillness of the Christmas Eve night. Softly, but still seeming far too loud, the door swung open.
In the distance, a voice could be heard. It was too far away to make out the words.
"Naw, sahr," a second voice seemed to be saying faintly, "Oi didn't hear nuffin."
The voices were drawing closer.
"And I tell you, Sergeant, that I heard something." It was the first voice again, speaking with an odd accent. English in a faint sing-song tone, words accented strangely.
The voices approached the corner of the building. "An' we'll hae us a look, roit enow sahr."
(OOC: Adding a little tension.)
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Post by Sarah Jane on Dec 23, 2011 2:18:51 GMT -5
((OOC- adding tension? More like turning my hair silver strand by strand.))
There was no use arguing with the weather. There was no use wishing that only the Sergeant had come looking. The Sergeant voice was as Gaian as football and and dandruff. Alone, she would have climbed above the gate, hid in the grass, and hit him on the head. Sarah Jane needed a sample from someone just like him to ease her way into the heart of Buckingham Palace.
Unfortunately, there was a second voice. One who spoke like none she'd heard in her many travels. It dawned on her that because of the Translator from the TARDIS, she may never really heard an alien speaking English as a second language. Or perhaps he was just eccentric. Anyway, she was not interested in meeting anyone who was able to order a Sargent around.
She let a out breath while her brain reviewed 17 plans simultaneously knowing she'd have to choose even before she ran out of air.
Choice: Get inside, it may be your last chance.
Choice: Take the lock with you, or they'll see the pick marks.
Choice: Don't run, hide. They were too close.
Sarah Jane slipped inside, the smallest creak escaping from the gate as she needed just one more centimeter of clearance to get her black kit bag in behind her, the lock already cold and heavy in her hand.
Then she hid, her heart cold and heavy in her chest. She hoped the sounds the men were making would camouflage her own as she started pulling herself up the ragged stone wall of the tunnel inside. Directly above the door was her best chance. Nearly there, a rock slips under her foot and she ducks quickly to hold it from falling.
If she pulled the rock away, she herself might slip. If she didn't, she'd be stuck in this awkward position, clinging to the cold steep rocks, and only 3/4 of the way to her real goal. She hoped they looked and left quickly.
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Post by The Master on Dec 27, 2011 14:10:12 GMT -5
"Weel, sahr," the human voice was saying, right outside the door, "Oi'd 'ave swarn this 'ere door was locked up toight, an' look at it. No soin offa padlock 'r nuffin."
The door creaked open, about a palm's width, and the reddish beam of an electric torch stabbed into the darkness. "Don' see nuffin', though," the voice continued. "Yeh wanna stand guard, whilst Oi poke me head in an' have a look 'bout?"
Just then there was a shaking sensation, almost like a small earthquake. Or maybe just a bout of dizziness, because nothing felt as if it were moving. The speaker with the torch certainly didn't react.
From the dismayed groan outside, it seemed the speaker with the singsong accent had felt it, and strongly. "No... no, Sergeant. That... I don't think... that will be... necessary."
"Are yeh all roight, sahr?"
"Give... give me a moment."
The clearly human speaker pulled the door shut. Softly, slightly off-key, he began to sing a Christmas carol. "Lords rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay..."
"Let us be off, Sergeant," the probably-alien voice said.
"Roight, sahr," the human voice said. The singing continued, fading with distance. "Remember Christ our savior was loomed on Christmas day..."
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Post by Rebbeca S. Tarks on Dec 27, 2011 14:33:16 GMT -5
It took a while but Beca managed to get to Sarah Janes house aned knocked on the door, "Sarah Jane? It's Rebbeca. You there?" As she waited, the dark haired woman leaned against the door trying to ignore the pain wracking pain in her body. (OOC: Continued at NLoT: Invasion on the new Role Play Whoniverse! site.
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