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ℬ. ℱᴏʀᴛᴇsᴄᴜᴇ (
2013-06-07 12:04 am (UTC)
Her memory was a little fuzzy. She remembered Jazz howling, the smell of the fires, the Doctor disappearing — but things had gotten dark after that, like swimming into the deepest end of a pool.
"That was nice of him," Fortescue said, nudging Rat's shoulder gently with her own, playfully, to show that she was glad someone had been there to get him out. "I followed the plan, somewhat, and then came back to town. Something funny happened to me when the sky opened up, and it's... sort of taking a while to heal," she admitted. "I wanted to make sure the flames were nowhere near things that might end in major house fires. Gas pockets or something."
At least, she was reasonably certain that was what she'd done. She'd originally gone back to town to see if anyone needed help. But there again, that was where the fuzziness had started. Maybe she had determined that the lives of her fellows didn't mean much. Fortescue shivered slightly. She didn't like herself when she got separated from Jazz, from her soul, but it was a delayed reaction. She never noticed anything was wrong at the time.
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