It's all coming back to me..., Tags Jenny & Rose

[Donna Noble]

Donna softly chuckled to herself as she sipped her gin and tonic, while she watched her friend Vera cutting a rug out on the dance floor with some bloke who was dressed up like Agatha Christie's famous Belgium detective, Hercule Poirot. Donna could hardly believe that she let Vera talk her into coming on this trip to Devon for the annual Agatha Christie Festival, but... it had sure seemed like a good idea at the time, and honestly, Donna had nothing better to do, not to mention that Agatha Christie was one of her absolute favorite authors - Donna even felt as if she knew the woman... But, that would be impossible - Dame Agatha Christie had died in 1976 - just a little while before Donna had been born.

Everyone here at the Festival was dressed in Period clothing of the mid- to late-1920s to early 1930s styled fashions - it sort of felt a bit silly, like everyone here was cosplaying like they did at comic con... or, as if they had all been pulled straight out of that long-passed era - pulled out of Time.

But, that would be ridiculous - not to mention that there were far, far too many men (and a few women) dressed like Poirot - complete with his little mustache.

Donna was content enough to sit back and watch all the frivolity, though she was starting to get a bit bored. Since she didn't fancy hitting the dance floor with one of the many Poirots present, Donna decided to pop outside for a breath of fresh air and a change of scenery. She stepped out into a cloistered courtyard with a lovely little English garden and began to let her mind wander...

And, that's when her headache came back. Donna took a seat on a marble bench in the garden and rested her aching head in her hands. She thought she might go back to her hotel room to lie down, but... it seemed that every time she did that, she missed out on something quite exciting. The last time that had happened was when the Earth had supposedly been moved a few years back - she'd been asleep on her bed , on top of the covers, fully dressed, and she'd missed the whole thing. It wasn't until she read it in the papers the next morning that she thought it had been more than a practical joke. Since then, Donna had been determined to never miss out on anything ever again.

But, dang... Her head really, really hurt! No way was this headache from that one little gin and tonic!

[Rose Tyler]

John hadn't wanted to go to the party, but all it took were doe eyes and a few risqué promises from Rose for him to relent. It was only when they got to the party that it finally hit Rose why John wouldn't want to go; it all reminded him of Donna: brilliant Donna Noble, best friend, fantastic companion...and yet another person he'd lost, even if he hadn't been there when it had happened. In fact, that seemed to make it worse for him. So Rose let him stay inside their TARDIS while she went and joined the festivities.

She had wondered whether or not to dress in period clothing, but all she could recall for women from the 20s and 30s were flapper dresses, and she was not about to wear one of those Thankfully, the TARDIS was more than helpful in providing hints and tips, and Rose entered the party feeling less like an idiot than she otherwise might have.

Rose couldn't help but laugh at how many Poirots there were in varying dress (and shapes, for that matter). Though she'd no intention to dance with any of them, it was amusing to see him interpreted in so many different ways. In fact, she wondered how the real Agatha Christie would have felt at seeing all the Poirots and Marples wandering about, and what she thought of each incarnation. Rose chuckled to herself; it would be even more amusing to hear Mrs. Christie's opinion of all the various people dressed up as her.

Over in one corner, a large group of people were answering trivia questions about Agatha and her books, hoping to win copies of them along with various other prizes, while others hotly debated the reason for her ten-day disappearance over glasses of wine and cigarettes in long, old-fashioned stems. Rose had the feeling that if she offered her own "theory" she would be laughed out or had the police called on her to take her to the loony bin. It more worried her that she'd be meddling with a piece of time she wasn't familiar with, though, so she merely smiled and moved on.

It was by complete coincidence that she turned her head and saw the red-haired woman sitting on a nearby bench, rubbing her head as if it were pounding. Rose was about to go over and ask if she was all right, but when she saw who it was, she immediately backpedalled and hid behind a column made of the same marble. Donna Noble was at the Agatha Christie Festival. Well, no wonder she had a headache.

Rose bit her lip; she knew John would probably want to see her, but it would be way too dangerous, and that Donna could catch a glimpse of him at any moment. Hell, Donna could catch a glimpse of her at any moment, and the realization made Rose back up.

She had taken about four steps backwards when she bumped into someone. Rose turned and muttered an apology, then did a double-take when she realized who it was, if only from secondhand memories and stories. This can't possibly be coincidence, she thought to herself, wondering what she should do next.

[Jenny]

One thing was for certain... this was the strangest place on Earth that Jenny had seen thus far. And she had actually been to Earth before at this point, so that was not a completely idle attribution.

Jenny had parked her flittership in woods. The shielding was up, enough to hopefully mask it from any would be explorers, and up until a few minutes ago Jenny would have said that her strongest concern was still of someone managing to damage it.

Bit of a silly fear when the flittership's technology was so much more advanced than that on Earth in the 21st century, but she could not be logical ALL of the time.

Seemingly, neither could humans. Either she had travelled back in time somehow via some fluked circumstance (and Jenny rather hoped not, because that would just make things ridiculously more difficult), or these humans had their own private rules of fashion. Where apparently, it was applauded to dress much like one another, perhaps so as to confuse others as to one's actual identity?

Not everyone wore the precise same outfit, but many wore at least the same style.

She had always been comfortable in her clothes before, much like a second skin. But now, she was starting to feel conspicuous, and Jenny was not entirely certain that was a good thing.

Scanning the crowd, she barely noticed when someone bumped into her, or the woman's apologies for that matter.

She had spotted a very familiar ginger.

"Donna!"

Jenny's shout carried aways in her excitement, and she had to remember to look forward and smile at the young woman she had ignored all this time.

"Happens to everyone. "

Just as she started to edge around her, Jenny thought better of it. She wanted to make a good impression on Donna, and that would be easier if she knew what was going on.

"Hang on a second though. What...exactly is this?"

She gestured to the whole of the festival, trying to incorporate her meaning in as few words as conceivably possible.

[Donna Noble]

Donna continued to sit on the marble bench out in the courtyard, sort of hunched over and with her throbbing head in her hands, as if applying a bit of pressure might make the pain subside.

And then, she heard someone call her name. The voice wasn’t one she recognized, and she knew that her friend was most likely still dancing indoors with one of several Poirots, so she didn’t look up right away - she thought that perhaps this person must have been calling out for a different Donna.

When she did finally pull her aching head out of her hands and looked up in the direction that she’d heard her name come from, Donna found that her suspicions were confirmed: she didn’t recognize anyone over there. Whoever had called her name wasn’t someone that Donna Noble knew - at least, not yet, anyway. Donna wasn’t quite sure if she was up to meeting anyone new just now, either.

But, just in case whoever it was had been calling her and not another Donna, and because Donna didn’t feel like being rude (though, oftentimes she had no problem being quite rude), the curvy ginger gave a slight wave and a sort of tight, pained smile, well... it was more like a confused grimace, actually, and she watched to see who - if anyone - might wave back.

Maybe it was a friend of her mother’s, though... probably not. If whoever she was had been a friend of the family, she’d probably have been friends with Donna’s grandfather - he was far more outgoing and friendly than her mother tended to be.

[Rose Tyler]

Rose, not sure what else to do when Jenny yelled Donna's name, yanked her behind the column of the building they were standing next to. "Are you mad?!" she hissed, clapping a hand over Jenny's mouth. Peering around the corner, she saw Donna wave in their general direction, at their now - thankfully - unoccupied space. Rose let out a sigh of relief, then turned back to Jenny.

"Look, Jenny - yes, I know what your name is, just please listen to me for a second." She took a deep breath, deciding first to answer the girl's earlier question. "You've walked into an Agatha Christie festival, but that's not what's important. What's important is that Donna musn't see you - she musn't see either of us. She's had all her memories of the Doctor locked up, and if she remembers anything, she'll die."

Realizing that she was probably being extremely confusing, Rose tried again. "Look, I'm a...friend of the Doctor. I don't know how much you know about him, but I've seen his memories of you. My name's Rose Tyler." A stray thought made Rose's train of thought wobble on its tracks for a moment. If the Doctor's her father, and John's technically his brother, and I'm married to John, does that make me her aunt? Forcing herself back on track, Rose continued, "Look, a lot's changed since you last saw the Doctor - he's changed, and he thinks you're dead. I guess...I guess 'cause you're his daughter, you must've gotten some of his regenerative abilities."

Rose bit her lip; there had to be some easier way to convey all of this to Jenny. She thought back to what John and the Doctor did: slipping into someone's mind to pass on information. Rose could explore John's memories, and he, hers, but they were bonded, and Rose had no idea if she could even attempt telepathy with anyone other than him. She was no Time Lord by any means, no matter what the Untempered Schism had done to her. But as Jenny was the Doctor's daughter, maybe she could try? She would probably only succeed in transferring flashes of images and conversation, especially as the memories she would be sharing were not hers, but...was it worth a shot?

Deciding that it was something she should try a different day, Rose tried with words again. "Look, I'll try and keep this simple: The Doctor was hurt and about to regenerate - like turning into a different person - but he threw the extra energy into a severed hand that was once his - even longer story, but he grew it back, so this was an extra - and therefore stayed himself. Later, Donna was trapped in the TARDIS and accidentally created a biological metacrisis: a version of the Doctor that was half-human and half-Time Lord. Thing is, she was the other half of the metacrisis: a human with a Time Lord brain. Humans aren't meant to handle that, and she would have burned up and died had the Doctor not locked her memories away. If she ever remembers anything, though, she will burn. Since then, the Doctor has regenerated - he looks nothing like he did before - I travel with the metacrisis - his name's John, and he looks like the Doctor you remember - and Donna has lived a normal life."

Rose finally took a breath, having forgotten to do so during her mini-speech. Realizing that she had been rambling, she searched Jenny's eyes with a worried frown. "Did...any of that make sense?"

[Jenny]

Jenny had seen and experienced her share of strange things over the past four years, this festival being one of them. She was still new enough to the world saving business, however, to be a tad upset when a stranger who had supposedly unintentionally run into her yanked her forcibly whilst questioning her sanity.

The fact her mouth was being covered also made Jenny highly tempted to bite her attacker. Or, since her body language did in fairness seem more concerned than threatening, simply lick her palm.

There was no arguing with results, in Jenny's opinion.

But she held still, even as the blonde started babbling rapid fire on a good dozen or so concepts that made no real sense to Jenny. True, that was not entirely Rose's fault. Despite her intelligence and apperance, Jenny was only four, and thefore only had a limited knowledge and experience base. Especially when it came to things dealing with her father. Time travel was one thing, but what did this strange woman mean by regeneration? Or a metacrisis? What did 'metacrisis' even mean?

The one thought that did make sense to Jenny was that her dad thought she was dead. Jenny had known that already. She trusted that her dad wouldn't have left her if he had thought she was still alive on Messaline.

That was why it was so important for her to find him.

"Did...any of that make sense?"

Jenny glared before pushing herself slightly away from the girl's hand so she could actually speak unmuffled.

"Only the part where you are the one that's crazy," Jenny answered testily.

A stranger was a stranger, and this girl made even less sense than most.

[Donna Noble]

[OOC: If Jenny and Rose are still with us, I'd like to continue this - but if not, perhaps I should try another angle insofar as "fixing" Donna. *hugs*]

[Jenny]

((I'm still here and interested!))

[Rose Tyler]

[OOC: I'm game if you are. ]

[Donna Noble]

Well, whoever it was who’d been trying to get Donna’s attention had stopped waving. In fact, they seemed to have flat-out vanished.

How rude! Headache or no, Donna wanted to find this rude person and tell them off. You don’t just go around waving at people, calling their name and then dart off!

She stood determinedly and began to stalk off in that person’s last known general location.

“Oi!” Donna barked. “Who wos it, callin’ for Donna?” she demanded.

She was met with shrugs and uncertain looks from other partygoers. They probably thought she’d had too much to drink and was simply being belligerent.

Donna pouted a little and leaned back against the outside wall. The pounding in her head had increased, and she closed her eyes against the pain.

“Ugh… Where’d ya go…?” she uttered softly, feeling defeated – usually she could get what she wanted by yelling, but perhaps, not this time. Not to mention her aching head – it made her just want to give up. On everything. Which was very, very unlike her.

“Must not be important…” Donna weakly murmured, trailing off as she slid down the wall to sit down, and she cradled her burning, pounding head in her hands.