{ video } | Yule be Home for Christmas - w/ #TeamTARDIS

[attackbrows]

[ The brain video feed turns on, revealing a very charming and handsome young man sitting in front of the camera wearing a pair of sunglasses. Where’d he get those glasses from? Ray-Ban could never!

It looks like he’s sitting in one of the residential rooms that appear to be somewhat polished, save for the packaged meat sitting behind one bed. ]

Well? Come on, then! And maybe don’t look so cross, you know, show them a little holiday spirit! Should we get you the hat? We should get you the hat —

Shut it! I know what I’m doing.

[ An exasperated sigh can be heard to the side that sounds eerily Clara-esque. ]

And what’s all that about?! Why am I the one delivering this? Just get flappy bird to do it! Why can’t we send them an e-mail? Or one of those carrier pigeons?

What pigeons, Doctor?

Hold on a tick — did we get pigeons in our item drop? That’d be brilliant, eh? We’d hardly need these communications devices, oh! Oh, I could show Alina —

No! Now, stop it! You’re distracting yourself.

[ In a few moments, the Doctor (the cute one) is looking off to the side with his eyes slightly squinted. ]

Read. The… Yes! Yes! I know!

[ The Doctor (the incredibly smooth and sexy one) starts sifting through a short stack of index cards in his hands. ]

Hello. This is the Doctor. You know? The incredibly tall and sauve one. Not the old, crinkly man who is currently reading this messa--

[ His eyes immediately shoot up to show his predecessor the meanest of mugs.

There’s an audible “Ow!” heard offscreen, followed by Clara reaching over to grab that first card. You can clearly see the internal struggle the Doctor (the one who is serving Einstein meets Beethoven realness) is going through. Like a child being tasked to wash the dishes or having to kiss their granny. ]

These past few months have been incredibly difficult and tiresome, but I assure you all are doing a brilliant job. This is the part where you give them a thumbs up and a smile.

[ ...Skipping that part. ]

Given that we’ve spent over 500-some odd hours together on this station, me, Clara and the old bat who looks like a grey dusty tumbleweed reading this messa—

[ Tossing that away! ]

—Would like to invite you all to celebrate Christmas with us. For all of my non-Earth friends, it is a special holiday most humans like to spend together. There will be plenty of food and fizzy drinks to go around. There will also be tree-mendous decorations. Stop for laughter. [ … ] I snow hope you will all able to join us.

I love you all from my head to my mistletoe.

[ After all that is read, the Doctor promptly reaches for a brick and clutches it against his chest and lets out a sigh of relief. From somewhere off-camera, there’s a series of claps, maybe applause? Maybe a fly somehow made it onto the station? (No it’s definitely applause, joined with a ‘See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?’) ]

Doctor!

Can I have my crisps now?

[ ooc note: threadhopping is a go!

color key: clara = orange, the doctor (11) = blue, the doctor (12) = purple ]

[ ooc update: You can find the Christmas Party log HERE!!! ]

Comments

[bossily]

Me? I'm not sure I deserve anything. Especially not after I just cringed at the thought of the Doctor as a pirate with a parrot.

[You can surprise her with something little, Alina.]

What about you, though? Surely you must have something you'd like.

[lateness]

Funny story about that, actually! Pirates and parrots, I mean.

By the way, a parrot would be a lovely gift, if you're looking for something to pull off of my Christmas list.

Which I absolutely have.

[bossily]

I'm not in any way surprised that you have a Christmas list, Doctor.

[lateness]

[ Just a big ol' :D on video. ]

'Course I have a list, why wouldn't I have a list? Who doesn't have a list? A list is important!

[bossily]

I don't have a list.

[The corner of her mouth curls upward into a lopsided grin.]

I should have a list.

[it feels so nice to have these happy, nonsensical talks again. She can't help but grin wider.]

You should show me your list. So I can get some ideas.

[peasant]

You know pirates?

[ a well-mannered woman would not sound so intrigued, but — alina has always enjoyed her stories of adventure. a laugh bubbles out of her, bright, as her eyebrows lift to her hairlire. ]

Oh, do you? [ of course he does. ] Of course you do. Well, you can't not show me the rest of your list.

[lateness]

I know some brilliant pirates. Upgraded from a regular water-ship to a space-ship in the end, actually. Fantastic bunch.

[ The Doctor's grinning, brightness to match hers. ]

And yes, of course I do. I was just saying to Clara, even though Clara's somewhere behind me — [ Or she was anyway. ] — who doesn't have a list, eh? It's a long list, it might take all night.

[peasant]

How does that work? You can't just ... build a space-ship from a wooden ship, can you?

[ if there's one constant in her conversations with the doctor, it's the reminder of the impossible becoming possible — adventures and choices she had never considered possible, beyond the limits of her own imagination. it's as boggling as it is helpful, in igniting the hopeful furnace in her chest.

her mouth twitches, tone dropping to something that would be better suited to encouraging unruly children with the attention span of a bird pecking at shiny objects. ]

In that case, why don't you give me the quick list? Your top ten. I'm assuming they're ranked.

[peasant]

Everyone deserves something. [ with that said — ] You're fully accepting the risk of leaving it in my hands.

[ it would be foreboding, if it wasn't alina. ]

A book from your world would be nice. Your favorite? Or one of your favorites.

[bossily]

You're in luck. I have just the book in mind for you.

[There's a pause, as she finds herself grinning.]

That being said, I wouldn't mind a book from your world in exchange.

[When she speaks again, it's with an arched eyebrow and in a whisper. Like she's convincing one of her students to do something absolutely ridiculous.]

Though I wouldn't mind the risk of being in your hands, either. Surprises at Christmas are always lovely.

[peasant]

Be careful. You're getting my hopes up, Clara Oswald.

[ her mouth splits into a grin, beaming — a genuine glow, despite the playful teasing attached. ]

I solemnly vow to do my best to find one for you. Most of our stories don't have happy endings. Death and destruction don't really say "festive cheer" to me.

[ conspiratorial, her voice drops, leaning in — as though they're sharing hushed secrets, rather than casual christmas conversations. ]

You may or may not find a secret surprise tucked somewhere in the pages. I don't want to spoil the fun.

[bossily]

Oh, haven't you heard?

[Still whispering, because they apparently are the biggest nerds here.]

Death and destruction can still lead to happy endings. Sometimes it's all in the way you perceive things. No need to be festive or cheerful for a story to be beautiful and perfect, just the way it is.

[Yeah, she can go on like this about books and literary things for hours. Don't encourage her, Alina. Look at the dreamy smile on her face. It's ridiculous.]

[peasant]

[ what if it's meant to be your story? alina thinks, only to bury it deep, unwilling to let the light dim in clara's starry-eyed smile. it's a thought that nags like knives, nevertheless — how much suffering her own tale must contain, before she's allowed to be happy. ]

I suppose so, [ she relents, as quiet as clara, something wistful in her tone. something little melancholic in her faraway smile. ] Happy endings are meant to be earned, aren't they? You couldn't fully appreciate your happy ending if you didn't suffer for it first.

[ there's no night without day, after all. it stands to reason there would be no knowing happiness, without tasting misery first. (then again, she's had her fair share of misery already.) ]

Not that it ever makes it fair.

[bossily]

[Something in Clara almost seems to snap when that's said. You can pinpoint the exact moment she goes tense, posture straightening as she stares wide eyed back at Alina. Her smile is gone, replaced with a quiver of her lip.]

Suffering doesn't mean you've earned a happy ending. It just means you're forced to be braver and stronger than you previously thought possible.

[Her words are quiet, tone almost withdrawn. Nothing is fair when it comes to getting a happy ending. Her own ending is bittersweet and incredibly painful. Having to talk about this topic is still a raw, fresh wound. It's too personal for her to step back and talk in generalities.

Then again, given Alina's reaction, this was personal for her as well.]

[peasant]

Then maybe all we have is hope for a happy ending. No matter what's been done to us.

[ and the distant dream of it, something illusory and unreachable. the kind of story you tell children at night, to make them feel safe in an unkind world. the lies they all tell themselves to make the suffering seem worth it.

some would say it has a purpose — that suffering is never just suffering. but not alina, when she can't see any reason for her own. instead, she goes uneasily quiet, shamefaced and remorseful in the face of clara's distress — uncertain how to relieve it, when she's the one that caused it in the first place. ]

Sorry. [ it's undoubtedly sincere, even if she can't quite bring herself to look clara in the eye again. ] I didn't mean to bring up bad memories.

[bossily]

It wasn't your fault. You wouldn't have known I'm not meant for happy endings.

[Clara's quick to reassure her, hating that she's just made a friend feel bad. She makes a mental note to reach out to Alina later to talk about it outside the earpieces. This was a conversation best done over hot tea and in close quarters.]

[peasant]

[ i don't believe that, comes her immediate reply — hanging from the tip of her tongue, waiting to leap. but she can, can't she? it's the same thought that plagues her, the same sad acceptance everyone in her life has dismissed, as though reassuring words might change the outcome.

it's easy to believe in someone else's happy ending, still, in some vain hope they'll achieve what's been denied to her. but she doesn't argue, with the terrible mess she's already made of things. her voice strains a little, soft when she offers: ]

Then we'll just have to make sure you get a happy middle. Those are always the best parts of a story, anyway.