Martha headed down to the town square quickly, after leaving a note so that she didn't need to worry about making other people worry. It was weird, really, how many people were going to be jammed into the house like sardines now. There was also the anger and the concern about the fact that hanging within her closet there was white nurse's outfit complete with the hat. Really, she could do with the walk.
When she approached the square, Martha had her hands in the pocket of the leather coat that she'd found in one of the shops on her first day here. Her hair was shoulder length and straight rather than very long and hanging about her head in braids like this version of Ace would remember.
She was worried, and Martha swallowed before she called out for the other woman. "Ace." There was a quick grin, and then she opened her arms for a hug.
Something was definitely out of sorts with Martha Jones. That much was getting increasingly obvious. Out of sorts with everyone with a name familiar to her, in fact.
Nevertheless, even while eyeing her suspiciously, Ace relented, seeing no harm in it. Maybe they were being watched? Any moment now, Martha would incline her face to ear and speak of... She would whisper about...
About...
But there was nothing. It really was just a friendly hug.
Since when was Martha like that? All rainbow smiles and... Or maybe the happiness had just got to her too much. Had to be awkward, right? Being in a place like this on her own.
With a confused titter, the younge brunette reared head back and, still in hug, asked, "What's with the hair...?"
When there was that confused titter, Martha Jones frowned and she stared at Ace for a moment. The question about the hair sent fingers up to touch it. It was the same as ever. Funny thing really, about Peaksville; Martha didn't need to straighten her hair anymore. For nearly fifty days it had stayed straight and flat as it had on the bridge.
When she spoke, her words were soft and she couldn't keep the confusion from them. "What do you mean, Ace? My hair is always as it was." The horrible Mirrorverse flood and all the memories that went along with it had been shoved away long ago; she didn't recall the braids that part of herself had worn.
"Ace, love, are you alright?" There was the doctoring in tone in her voice and concern overrode the confusion and she simply stared.
Frowning, Ace defaulted to putting up a front of aggression when all else failed. Here, manifesting itself with a half-smiling, half-confused, "Shut up..."
But there was something odd. Maybe a sixth sense telling her something. Maybe how different the other young woman looked. Maybe a lot of things. Ace couldn't put her finger on it.
But she did have a very well developed survival instinct.
"Why haven't you made the place... Fun? And what's with that 'Dean' bloke acting the way he is? Nothing's makin' any sense."
Comments 27
When she approached the square, Martha had her hands in the pocket of the leather coat that she'd found in one of the shops on her first day here. Her hair was shoulder length and straight rather than very long and hanging about her head in braids like this version of Ace would remember.
She was worried, and Martha swallowed before she called out for the other woman. "Ace." There was a quick grin, and then she opened her arms for a hug.
Reply
Nevertheless, even while eyeing her suspiciously, Ace relented, seeing no harm in it. Maybe they were being watched? Any moment now, Martha would incline her face to ear and speak of... She would whisper about...
About...
But there was nothing. It really was just a friendly hug.
Since when was Martha like that? All rainbow smiles and... Or maybe the happiness had just got to her too much. Had to be awkward, right? Being in a place like this on her own.
With a confused titter, the younge brunette reared head back and, still in hug, asked, "What's with the hair...?"
Reply
When she spoke, her words were soft and she couldn't keep the confusion from them. "What do you mean, Ace? My hair is always as it was." The horrible Mirrorverse flood and all the memories that went along with it had been shoved away long ago; she didn't recall the braids that part of herself had worn.
"Ace, love, are you alright?" There was the doctoring in tone in her voice and concern overrode the confusion and she simply stared.
Reply
But there was something odd. Maybe a sixth sense telling her something. Maybe how different the other young woman looked. Maybe a lot of things. Ace couldn't put her finger on it.
But she did have a very well developed survival instinct.
"Why haven't you made the place... Fun? And what's with that 'Dean' bloke acting the way he is? Nothing's makin' any sense."
Reply
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