There's a trick with a knife I'm learning to do.

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

It was yet another sunny morning. On the lake's grassy bank near Frontierland, Una Persson lay stretched out on her stomach on a beach towel, wearing a blue maillot and reading a pristine first edition of Du côté de chez Swann that she'd borrowed from the Doctor. A blue silk caftan lay neatly folded nearby. As she read, she ate an apple, cutting slices off with her clasp knife, and reflected that unnerving though the park's absence of insect life was, it was pleasant to not have to worry about ants for once.

She'd always wanted to read À la recherche du temps perdu, but she'd never had the time. Now, having nothing but Time of a sort and the TARDIS library at her disposal, she reckoned she should take the opportunity. But between the oddly soothing quality of Proust's prose and the soporific warmth of the day, Una soon found her eyelids growing heavy. She took off her sunglasses and put her head down, thinking to rest for just a moment. Soon she was dozing like a cat in the sun, the breeze occasionally ruffling her hair and the pages of the open book, a half-eaten apple and the open clasp knife near her elbow.

((Some small number of days after Una's latest confab with Starbuck. Closed to Una and the Master; of course, as long as they're outside, passersby who might conceivably be in the area could easily catch sight of them, but it's probably best not to interfere.  ^_^))

((ETA: *facepalm* Do I really have to say anything, warning-wise? We should know better than to leave them around sharp objects...))

Comments

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

"Well, there's nothing to say that whatever is in charge of this place won't get bored one day and decide that it's much more convenient torching the place than it is to clean house." And that scrape against his wrist triggered a thought, one unrelated yet—

He leaned over, planting his hands on either side of her. "The Toymaker," he said suddenly, his tone suggesting that Una had just done something absolutely brilliant.

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

"True, but that doesn't account for the people who—" She was about to say come from different places in the same timeline and never noticed the other was gone, but she was interrupted by his movement and sudden proximity and the apparent total non-sequitur.

"The what?" She pushed herself up slightly on her elbows, blinking at him. She might've been a little flushed as well, though that could just as easily have been the sun.

((ZOMG you're BRILLIANT. *does the old-school Whofan happy dance*))

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

And he kissed her like it was a common form of gratitude where he was from, apparently taking little heed of his earlier comment about them getting caught. "The Celestial bloody Toymaker," he repeated faster, something about his demeanor coming off more childlike, more alive than it had in quite some time. "I can't believe it never occurred to me before now! Something in the food here must be cooling down my synapses; I'm an idiot." Which was likely the first time he'd uttered those three words in several centuries.

((*blushes* I was doing research a little while back, and when I finally went over the Eternals and the Guardians in more detail, I suddenly jumped out of my chair shouting OMG THAT'S IT. My dog was not amused. XD))

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

She made a sort of surprised mmf! when he kissed her and was suddenly acutely aware that this would be the day, of all days, that she'd finally decided to wear a touch of the Mitsouko she'd received at Christmas. Her hand went up to the centre of his chest, almost as if she were going to push him away, but the touch lost its impetus somewhere along the way and her hand simply came to rest lightly against his solar plexus; she watched his face, intrigued and a little delighted, particularly at the self-assessment of idiocy.

"Who's the Celestial Toymaker, then? Some cosmic mischief-maker?" Even not knowing who this being was, the synaptic leap was easy to follow. "You think it's behind this."

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

The scent didn't fully register as something new until after he had kissed her. He tilted his head, nose brushing against her neck as he inhaled. "There is a race known as the Eternals in our universe, named so because they exist outside the Realm of Time, in the Realm of Eternity. The group right beneath them are known as the Guardians. The Black Guardian is in charge of choas, the White is in charge of order. Or so they claim." He pulled back suddenly, gazing at her quizzically, with rapt attention. There was something about the expression that seemed to demand a reason for tempting him thus. His hand slipped over hers without his noticing.

The unfortunate part of having a brain that could go through so many ideas at once was that, once you got going, it was hard to remember that other people might find that confusing, trying to follow simultaneous trains of thought. Particularly when one train was all body language.

"The Toymaker's purpose is harder to understand. I was told by someone long ago that he was meant to be the Guardian of Dreams," three guesses who told him that, "but his way of passing the time is making people play his games. If you lose, he gets to keep you." He licked his lips and continued on, frantically. "Normally the whole lot of them lack imagination, but if he had spent enough time on Earth, then maybe.... And they can do all of this, create matter out of thin air, read minds and memory down to the finest detail." Rassilon, his head was thundering now.