kore_logs | An overflow of guilt

Entry tags:

An overflow of guilt

Who: the Doctor, Mina
When: Day 104
Where: Mina's house
What: Feeling useless and full of guilt, the Doctor thinks he doesn't need anyone.
Warning: Will update when need to.

The Doctor had spent the entire previous day with Donna, concerned for her safety, and determined to do anything for her after a far too eventful day of near drowning with the sea monster. "The king of Sea Devils..." He commented, although the actual Sea Devils didn't have tentacles and were related to creatures that inhabited the earth long before humans, but that was a story for another time.

Around noon, Donna seemed to be perking back up and moving about and convinced him to go home to sleep some, but he wasn't tired. He was plain simply loaded with guilt and one of very few occasions, felt his age. Ancient, horribly unclever, and useless.

Sitting on the porch step of his house, he watched his worn brown suit blow in the wind as it dried. Clad in trousers and a clean button down shirt he hadn't bothered to button all the way, he finally slipped on his trainers and rummaged through his stuff, making a small pile of items that belonged to Mina - a couple books, another shirt he had meant to return, and a mug.

When evening came and the house became dark, he found his way to Mina's and knocked on her door. When she answered, he cleared his throat, "I have some stuff to return."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Good. That's good." He comments, moving to press a kiss to her forehead and pulls back with his hands remaining where they are placed on her hips.

"I wish there was something I could do, though, instead of seeing that man's death." There was a shrug. "It's over now. Done and done."

"You do what any good soldier would do," she replied, touching his face lightly, "you make sure that the death is neither forgotten nor without value." That was how Mina handled it, anyway. Over two hundred years of experience still hadn't taught her to bear each and every death with grace. It still hurt. Just not as long.

Her fingers trailed along his cheekbone. "And you don't blame yourself. That's an unending spiral. Not a good place for someone who's end is very far away."

He raised a hand to cover hers, pulling it down to his lips to press a kiss to her palm.

"I just wish it got easier." He spoke softly, lacing his fingers with hers. "Being here is so frustrating. I haven't been of any use, I haven't really helped anyone, and I feel responsible for so many things, Mina." He hated being so defeatist; it wasn't in his nature to be so.

She smirked a little bit. "I think you've been of more use, more help than you realize, darling," she told him. "But I'm not going to tell you why. I think it might be more valuable if you figure that out for yourself." Or at the very least, more fun.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against his for a moment. The truth of the matter was that one of the people he'd saved here was Mina herself. She'd been on a miserable, downward spiral before he showed up. Gave her someone to look forward to seeing. Gave her someone she could speak to.

But she'd never say as much. That would be telling.

"Come upstairs," she murmured. "I need to shower. And then we can talk. Just you and me. Anything you want, as long as it isn't depressing."

She was right, and he offers her a cheeky grin as a reply before following her upstairs. Her room fascinated him, with a few books and it being so dark seemed rather more sinister than it really was. It was amazing they didn't kill themselves in this darkness.

The Doctor sat on the edge of her bed, watching her, admiring the confidence she exuded and how at ease she made him even with a such a light touch through the short fringe of his bangs.

One of the many privileges of having the master bedroom in a more-or-less abandoned house was that Mina had her own bathroom. Despite her appearances, she did have a few rather female indulgences. And one of them, for better or for worse, was a fondness for scented candles.

It was a surprisingly convenient indulgence, these days.

She walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open as she began to light all of her candles. There was soon a golden glow filling both bedroom and bathroom. "Back home," she told the Doctor as she diligently worked, "we would be preparing for a harvest ceremony around now. The Circle of the Crone, my covenant, have a nasty reputation. People think we're Satan worshippers and hedonists. But the harvest ceremony was always so beautiful. We would remember what the air used to smell like."

"I bet it was lovely." He commented, watching the glow from the bathroom extend out into the room. "Autumn is a lovely time, with color changes, weather pattern disturbances, last minute turning of crops, songs and dances to harvest. You're right... It is something nice. Like Saturdays." He commented before slipping off his trainers and lying back.

"Hedonism, such a funny word. Greek for 'pleasure'... You'd think it'd have a positive connotation."

She glanced out at him. "Yes. Well, that's all a matter of opinion, isn't it? There are those who don't care for pleasure." In other words, the hypocritical Lancae Sanctum. "I suppose it rather depends on what you choose to believe."

The match was burning down to her fingertips. She let it go as long as she dared, before blowing it out. "And you?" she asked, tossing it in the bin and pulling up the plunger on her tub to start to shower. "Do you have a particular stance?"

Surely he did. He seemed to have opinions on a lot of things.

Mina started to close the door. Then stopped herself. She left it partway open as she started to undress. An invitation, perhaps.

He turns on his side, propping himself on an elbow, watching with interest and curiosity. Then realizing what he was doing, looks away, clearly missing the hint of an invite. "Do I indulge in pleasure? Of course! A good Agatha Christie novel in the library, a warm cuppa after a trip in the TARDIS... Barcelona, not the city, but planet is a really fantastic place. Bananas at a party... I accidentally invented the banana daiquirii a bit too early in France, actually."

He could ramble on more, but stops, and listens to the water fall.

Mina tossed her hat and tie out of the bathroom door. She didn't want them in the humidity. "What on earth is a banana daiquiri?" she asked.

Despite the fact that she was almost never seen around town without them, she began to take each of her rings off, one by one, lining them up neatly along the sink. All except for the one hanging around her neck. Half of the time, she completely forgot it was even there.

"An alcoholic drink mixed with rum and sugar. It wasn't so bad; that party." He reflects on it a moment with the French court and then finding Rose after a little too much to drink. There's a smile on his face, "You would like it, I'd imagine." If she were able to indulge on any pleasures such as that, but given she didn't drink tea answered that for him.

He closes his eyes for a moment, anticipating a change in the water flow with her stepping in. It made him think of rain falling on rooftops and the change in tune it would have depending on the material of said rooftop.

Slowly, she unbuttoned her shirt. Thick or uninterested? Some men were hard to read. With the Doctor, that was especially true.

Ah, well, she supposed. At least he didn't seem quite as gloomy. Quite as determined to severe ties. That was something, she supposed. Progress.

She hung her shirt up on a hook behind the door and started to unwind the bandage she wore around her chest. "I actually rather liked rum," she mused. "Of course, these days, I have to drink it with a copious amount of a certain special ingredient. Sadly not banana."

This one? definitely thick.

"I'm assuming you mean blood." He replied, now tracing his fingers along the sheets of the bed. Cotton.

"Do you forget the tastes and flavors or miss them? Or does it not matter?"

"Forgot most of them," Mina admitted. "There aren't a lot of things that you can mix with blood." But it was a small sacrifice though. One she'd been quite willing to make. One she would make all over again, given the choice.

Hanging up her trousers on the corner of the door, Mina pulled aside the shower curtain and stepped inside. Her skin wasn't as sensitive as a human's might be to temperature, but she did enjoy a good, hot shower when she could get one.

"I do sometimes wonder what certain things taste like," she said, over the spray. "Particularly luxury items from my time that are quite commonplace now. Like chocolates."

He's not feeling as bad now, with his legs a little off the bed, watching the flickering of the candles from bathroom, listening to the shower. It all seemed domestic, yes, but comforting in a way. Maybe he needed something simple for a while.

"Pity. I'm probably boring you talking about food."

"I've found, my dear, that you are many things," she replied. "Boring isn't one of them." Boring would never be one of them. He was too mercurial. Too unpredictable. Too wildly stimulating.

Intellectually, at any rate.

As for the rest...

"You are, of course, welcome to find a creative way to keep me entertained," she added.

He pauses for a moment, brows furrowing, "Are you implying something, Mina?" He looks up, unable to see her, of course, but is looking in the direction of the bathroom. He runs his tongue along the tops of his teeth as he mulls this over.

"Cheeky." He comments with half a smile and rubs an eyelid with a couple fingers, too amused with this implication.

Mina grinned, wetting down her hair. "Did you just call me 'cheeky?'" she asked, trying very hard to keep the smile out of her voice. "How dare you, sir. I am no such thing."

She paused. Dramatically.

"Say that to my face."

There's something of a 'thud' as the Doctor hopped to his feet and like an excited puppy, into the bathroom.

"Minaaaaa, are you sure you want to issue this challenge?" He's standing there at an arm's length away from the shower, looking quite devilishly excited about this prospect. Really, he'd accept just about anything to occupy his mind right now from all the guilt he had bottled up.

"A pirate never issues a challenge unless he means it," she replied, unable to hide the laugh from her voice.

She slicked back her hair, turning to face the curtain. "Of course, I don't think I'm really the one in danger here."

Hopefully, he wasn't overly attached to that suit.

Boldy, he opens the curtain, poking his head through to her, "Cheeky minx!" He commented with quite the bemused expression.

"You just wanted me in the shower with you, didn't ya?"

Mina smirked. "Mmm, not as thick as he pretends to be," she commented.

She grabbed hold of his tie and yanked him forward, giving him an easy, decidedly passionate kiss. As though this were the sort of prank she pulled every night.

Nothing could have been further from the truth, of course. Mina was hardly a prude. She was just particularly choosey. And, truth to tell, although she walked with a swagger and navigated the world of Kindred politics with easy self-confidence, she was far less confident when it came to affairs of this nature.

It was the Doctor, really, who made it easier. After all, he hadn't run screaming from the dismal sight of her scarred and--in her opinion--unattractive body before. He brought out a certain playfulness that Mina lacked in other aspects of her existence. And she found that she liked who she was, when he was around.

The water was warm as it cascaded down upon him, drenching his hair and parts of his shirt. A hand held onto the wall, keeping his balance as Mina kissed him, while the other started working at the buttons of his oxford shirt.

He needed this, needed to have his mind both distracted and comforted from everything bottling up inside. He had friends and had people he could collaborate with, but there was something about Mina that allowed him to stop and calm down.

Peeling off the half wet shirt and tie, quickly followed by his trousers, there was little delay in having the Doctor standing just before Mina in the shower, dark eyes locked with hers. Words went unspoken and perhaps his expression was unreadable until he finally placed a hand flat against the wall beside her and tipped her chin upwards with the other, coaxing her back for a kiss.

Some part of Mina--the scientist, she supposed--was utterly baffled by the physics and geometry presented to her at the moment. She didn't quite know, having never been quite so bold, how it would all work. But, as she found herself kissing him back, she supposed that there was some sort of primal instinct that knew all the answers.

Kissing was a baffling notion, on the surface. How did two people manage to make their noses fit? She didn't know. Instinct.

It was all about instincts.

Of course, Mina's instincts were a bit rougher than most. She dug her fingers into the back of his shoulder, pulling him closer. The spray of the water went at wild angles around them.

There was a brief pause and a laugh, "Miss me?" This was probably the most demanding he'd ever witness of her, and for such a situation, he wasn't really complaining.

Far from it, really, given he would rather not think about the guilt eating away at him and the longer he stayed here, the more helpless he felt. And it killed him that he was letting the scientists win. But right now, he had to not worry about that. For once, just live in the here and now.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject