(no subject)
It was not her week. That was all Sarah Jane had to say about the matter when she ran a hand through her hair and came up with three strands in her palm; brown, brown, and silver. Between this and the news that the one person she had counted on to be her excuse was no longer available, she was really having a shit go of it all.
Staring at the silver strand of hair, she immediately began to twist and turn, even as she was walking down the hall, looking for more. She didn't know what was worse; not finding any and wondering how many were growing in or finding some and realising that while she had closed her eyes, this had happened.
It wasn't even that she minded. Aunt Lavinia went silver a lot earlier and due to the stress of some of the things she'd seen, well...she'd been expecting it.
Just not this week.
She gave a huff and wandered back into the kitchen to crouch by the nearest trash, pushing the damn hairs in as she got up and brushed off her palms on her jeans. She had been intending to have a pleasant day, a lovely day, but now all she could do was start wondering about dark and heavy things like commitment and mortality and well, to be shallow, what was she going to look like when she went all shiny and white.
With a sigh, she rubbed at her eyes. "Stop being so silly, Sarah Jane Smith," she commanded herself aloud; as though that might stop it. Maybe she was just tired. That had to be it. Everything was wearing on her nerves and now she was just tired.
[She's actually in a half-decent mood, she won't bite. New people will be welcome. Old ones will get tea, unless you're the Doctor]
Staring at the silver strand of hair, she immediately began to twist and turn, even as she was walking down the hall, looking for more. She didn't know what was worse; not finding any and wondering how many were growing in or finding some and realising that while she had closed her eyes, this had happened.
It wasn't even that she minded. Aunt Lavinia went silver a lot earlier and due to the stress of some of the things she'd seen, well...she'd been expecting it.
Just not this week.
She gave a huff and wandered back into the kitchen to crouch by the nearest trash, pushing the damn hairs in as she got up and brushed off her palms on her jeans. She had been intending to have a pleasant day, a lovely day, but now all she could do was start wondering about dark and heavy things like commitment and mortality and well, to be shallow, what was she going to look like when she went all shiny and white.
With a sigh, she rubbed at her eyes. "Stop being so silly, Sarah Jane Smith," she commanded herself aloud; as though that might stop it. Maybe she was just tired. That had to be it. Everything was wearing on her nerves and now she was just tired.
[She's actually in a half-decent mood, she won't bite. New people will be welcome. Old ones will get tea, unless you're the Doctor]