ı αм ɔεғıпıεтʟч α мαɔмαп шıтн α вσх -- ((ᴘᴀғᴘ [ᴄʟᴀʀᴀ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ]

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    Info: This roleplay basically takes place after "The Day of the Doctor." Any kind of adventure is allowed, and if you become Clara. . . you get to pick it! Well of course you do, your Clara. Third or first person is suggested. Up to three characters (The Doctor, Dalek, Cyberman--Dalek, Fallen Angel, Clara--etc.)



    My fingers tapped silently on the floor as I sat on the step thinking of what to do. My encounter with several of my past and future selves practically finished the job of what the Doctor should be doing. Well. . . Technically my job is never done. But who has time for jobs?


    ({(Can I be Clara?)})


    Clara came out of the hallway of the TARDIS, carrying a steaming soufflé. It was basically completely blackened. The moment after she had gotten back in the TARDIS, she had went straight into the TARDIS kitchen to bake a soufflé, as was her usual. They were always burned though. "I swear, I think she locks the oven so my souffles will always end up burned!" she inquired, toss the soufflé into a dustbin off to the side.

    OC: Sure!


    I smelt the burnt smell of some sort of dessert that Clara makes -- called like a soup plate. I don't quite understand how they are pronounced. "Great, you stinked up the TARDIS. You know I think she doesn't want you to make your. . . um . . . whatever, so she locks the oven door." I got up and turned on the vacumn and the air freshener. "There's fish fingers and custard in the fridge."

    She rolled her eyes, "They're called soufflés," she told him. "And I'm quite fine without your fish fingers and custard, thank you very much," she added, before walking over to him and standing beside him. "So, where to...Chin?" she asked with a smirk.

    I smiled at her. "Anywhere you want to go," I say to her leaning onto the TARDIS. "But," I shout raising a finger, "nothing anything crazy." I run away downstairs and examine the tubes of the ship. I think to myself that such a occasion should call for fancy wear. I dive into a compartment and throw out bow ties, suits, and shoes and finally find what I'm looking for.
    A fez.
    I put it on and run back upstairs with a smile on my face.

    She looked at the fez, and snorted with laughter. "You kept the fez?" she questioned with a grin. She thought for a moment. "I've always wanted to go see the 50's... how about that?" she questioned, smiling.

    "Sure thing." I typed in some numbers and pulled the big ol' handle and a slight shake arose from the TARDIS. "So we don't raise any suspicions, I suppose you need to dress like a '50s person. Don't know what that means." I ran around twice in circles. "Wait," I say stopping, "isn't it the times of the afro or World War II?"

    She thought back to when she was learning about it in class. "You should be fine as you are. I think bowties were in style," she inquired. She looked down at her own clothes. "Me on the other hand..." she looked down at her own clothes. "I'll be back!" she told him, going back down toward the TARDIS wardrobe. "And lose the fez!!" she shouted from down the hall playfully. She quickly got changed, and came out in a red dress with small black polka dots all over it. Black sunglasses were on her head. "How do I look? she asked.


    The Outfit

    I shook my head at the comment of losing the fez. She knows how I feel about taking it off. I looked at her outfit and slowly rocked back in forth. She was beautiful but it wouldn't seem to be me if I said so. "You look great," I say in a high-pitched voice. I cleared my throat. "You look great."
    I turned away from her as I heard the TARDIS land and look at the doors. I held out my hand to her and grinned. "Ready?"

    She smiled at his complement, blushing ever so slightly at it. "Thanks!" she remarked brightly. She then took his hand, "Of course I'm ready! I'm always ready." she responded. She began walking toward the TARDIS doors.

    I held her hand tightly and pulled her with me. I pulled open the doors and out there I saw a old fashioned diner and cars, along with people with nearly identical dresses as Clara. "Never been here before. Hope noone notices a big blue telephone box in the middle of the street."
    I looked around. Nothing fun seemed to catch the eye to me.

    She looked around, with considerable more interest than the Doctor. "Which country are we on?" she asked curiously, gripping his hand firmly as well.

    "I don't know. This one seems much more familiar though..." I looked at Clara and to a passing stranger. I approached him with a smile and my bowtie straightened. "Excuse me," I say blocking his path, "do you know what country we are in?"
    "Ah, tourists! Why do you have such a British accent? Good impersonating! Anyways, we are in America!" The horrifying flash-backs from my future erupted in my head. "Ah. Thank you." I politely tipped my head and ran back to Clara. "America. We are in America... in the 50s."

    Clara watched the exchange with a small smile, amused. "Good impersonation..." she repeated with a chuckle. "I've never been to America before, though I always thought I would be going there sometime. Just not in the 50s," she inquired.



    ({(Hmm, we could make the enemy the Silence. They would still be there up until the moon landing, right?)})

    OC: Yeah sure, we could do that! So are you asking to stay up to the moon landing or... I'm confused :-X.


    IC: "Oh yes, I thought I'd never come back here again. . ." I whispered. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Well, we won't get anything done just standing here. Let's go!" I grabbed Clara's hand and dashed to the diner. "I only had a hamburger once and I look forward to it again!"

    ({(Sorry, I word things strangely sometimes. I mean the Silence would be around in America still, because the Doctor hasn't actually defeated them yet with the footage of the moon landing. :3)})


    She gave him an odd look, sensing his discomfort with being in the area. Before she could ask him about it, however, she was dragged off by the Doctor toward a diner. She decided to question him about it later. "A nice hamburger sounds perfect right now," she replied with a grin.

    OC: Oh, oh Okay! c:


    IC: I looked at her with a soft smile and pushed open the doors. I looked around for a open table and listened to the jazzy music at the diner. People grilled meat and placed it on a form of fluffy bread. I spotted a table with a few empty glasses and plates along with dirty napkins. "No problem," I said, lunging towards the table. I looked quickly at the mess and grabbed a form of a rag and studied it quickly. Then, I covered my hand with it and wiped all the dishes off the table along with the trash and crumbs. "All clean!"

    She jumped slightly as one of the glasses broke, but the rest stayed in one piece. "You know, you're going to get us thrown out before we even get seated," she remarked, picking up the glasses in a the way a bartender might, and setting them neatly to the side. She swept up the broken glass with a napkin before sitting down and watching him with a smirk.

    I sat down with a smile. Opening my jacket, I pulled out my sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the jukebox lying next to the wall. Suddenly, the jukebox was playing the hottest songs from the present. "Say nothing and they will not notice." A waitress passed by dropping off two malts with whipped cream. She stopped for a moment and looked at our faces. A moment later, she shrugs and carries on.

    "They'll notice sooner or later." She smirked, taking the malt and taking a sip from it. She glanced at the Doctor,"So... any ideas on what to do?" she asked curiously. She twirled the straw around in the malt.