I AM LOST.

this is a private writing blog for an original character, technically a reboot of one that i created like . . . man . . . just about seven years ago! so, yes, the concept is definitely dated, but i wanted to try my hand at bringing a character who was previously named gallifreya (hehe) into a more modern interpretation. the way i’m approaching this blog is an exploration of space drama / dramedy. gracie tyler is the daughter of rose tyler and the metacrisis doctor, corin. i will never force this canon on anyone who doesn’t want it and can happily adjust if you’d still like to write but don’t feel that fits your universe – just let me know! i won’t be offended in the least.

𝑏𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑠 . . . !

though i recognize this is the most goofy fanon-y, bad fanfic concept, and i will definitely make a lot of jokes about that hehe, i do ask you be nice generally! if you really hate this idea just like . . . don’t follow me!

typical rules apply, no godmodding, etc. i will unfollow if you are racist, transphobic, sexist, homophobic, lesbophobic, and otherwise anything gross. i will reblog both resource posts regarding current global issues when needed and will also reblog callouts when warranted – all will be tagged as best as possible.

though gracie is an extremely human character, knowing myself and my love for horror there’s likely to be the following triggers from time to time, tagged but something i would like to warn everyone about in advance anyway! body horror, descriptions of gore/violence, etc. 

though gracie is going to be set in her early to mid twenties and therefore of age, i don’t care to write sexual content in depth. it’ll be rare to be mentioned, even, at least in any way more than just a joke or a loose reference or smth.

gracie is a concept more than anyth rn! i’d love to plot w ppl to decide just how she manages to start traveling, what she ends up doing with her life, etc. at the core of her story, gracie is unhappy with herself, lost in terms of motivation, and aching for meaning. she is absolutely, undoubtedly, human. she thinks that maybe, somewhere, there’s a bigger truth to her, or that she’s more capable, maybe one day she’ll find out she’s a goddess reincarnated, or the destined champion of a far off world. anything but this, that she is now – just a girl. just a person.

anw all to say my biggest concern on this blog is that i am not up to date on dw and really just going based on what i liked about it when i watched it – i’m really trying to build a newer canon that’s a little separate from the source in some ways and just wanna have a little fun hehe. i may not be absolutely brilliant abt lore so feel free to let me know if smth sounds wrong but also understand if ur a dick abt it i will ignore u. this is the law

𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑒 . . . !

            “And so you’ll be off, then. What, an astronaut?” The words are a little cutting, somehow, thrown haphazard across the pristine countertop that places a neat three feet between the pair. Stella’s hands and gaze are both preoccupied with washing the dishes, a habit Gracie always found distinctly obnoxious – a precious attention to detail, cleaning directly after a meal. It felt like something unsubtle, a jab. “Don’t they got, like, decades of training behind them or something? Not like you can just pick it up –”

            “Didn’t say that, never said astronaut,” she counters, a funny pleading tonality edging her words, even as they’re mumbled. “You cut it down everytime, Stels.”

             “What?”

             “She’s got an apartment, she’s in college, she’s really doing something with her life. Mum pays it, anyway.” Gracie’s tone grows sharper and more confident with each word uttered, as she finally manages to pull her sister’s attention towards her. “It’s not that impressive.”

             “Neither’s sleeping in your old baby room with no plan, no direction, spouting fucking nonsense about being an astronaut ––”

             “I didn’t say astrona-”

             “–– and acting like you aren’t a full grown adult. You’re a child, Gracie, you’re always, you’ve always been –– a spoiled, fucking child.”

             There’s an instant distance that splits the two of them, a silence overtaking the room as they hold their eye contact in what might be perceived as a struggle for domination on the subject. An act to prove who’s right. But there’s a hint, so subtle and blurry, in both their vision: a begging of understanding. They’ve never had the words, been able to find the common ground so obviously underneath them. It’s always been like this. Vitriol and biting. 

              “You’ll never get it,” Gracie says, finally breaking the wall of quiet.

              “Nah, your mind’s such an enigma. It’s so beautiful and mysterious and weird and cool. No one can possibly ––”

              “Christ, Stella, it’s over, I’m leaving.”

              “Fine.”

              “Fine.” The silence, more awkward now, yet again gains ground as Gracie removes herself from the counter and begins to gather her bag and coat. Stella’s attention returns to the dishes, though now they’re so clean it hardly matters how much rougher she scrubs. She’s just wasting water, at this point, running it so hot against the back of her hand that it might scald her. 

“  its     macie ,     right ?     i’m     uh ,     sorry     about     your     sister     and     all .     don’t     worry     too     much ,     dutch     has     got     a     plan .     he’s     always     got     a     plan .     gotten     me     out     of     some   …   pretty    bad     situations     myself .     is     your     arm     healing     okay ?    took    a    pretty    nasty    couple’a    shots .  ”     @spacials

to  :   @astralost  .

in  truth  ,   amelia  had  long  ago  lost  track  of  her  whereabouts  .   matter  of   factly  ,   she  knew   it  was  someplace  new  ,   maybe  even  dangerous  because  with  every  passing   second    a  metallic  taste  grew  stronger  in  the  back  of  her  throat ,   a  ringing  in  her  ear  growing  louder  and  louder  but  she  couldn’t   avoid   moving  forward  ,   trying  her  best  to  remember  her  steps  .  if  i  lose  track  ,   i  might  never  find  my  way  home  .

like  many  dreams  before  this  it  started  with  crossing  the  uncrossable  pathway  and  walking  down  hallways  and  up  and  down stairs     —   —     unlike  alice  ,   her  travel  was  far  from  easy   —   —      something  deep  inside  her  remembered  where  they  went  ,  as  if  she  had  once  looked  upon  this  map  on  the  veins  of  a  browning  leaf  .   if  not  now  ,  then  she  might  not  ever  dare  to .   though  she  was  dreaming  (  right?  )  ,   a  sense  of  urgency  compelled  her  further  until  she  crossed  the  door  again  .   into  a  different  place  now  ,   a  common  street  somewhere  she’d  never  been ,  filled  with  people  who  looked  fairly  normal  .   not  one  of  them  spared  her  a  second  glance  ,   despite  her  coat  sticking  out  like  a  sore  thumb  against  the  golden,  deeply  orange  sun  .   the  only  star  left  in  the  sky  where  she  came  from  ,   but  not  here  .     how  odd   .

the  roaring  of  waves  crashing  into  sand  pulled  her  with  the  tides  ,   a  strong  smell  of  ocean water  mixing  with  the  detestable  iron  crawling  up  her  throat  as  she  padded  her  way  through  the  street  ,   huddled  inside  her  big  blue  coat  that  made  her  look  smaller  than  her  age  .   this  adventure  was  a  decay  she  hadn’t  ever  known   except  she  had  and  couldn’t  quite  remember   (  yet   )  .

she  wasn’t  going  to  ask  any  adult  for  help  .  no ,  she  was  amelia  jessica  pond ,  she  could  go  anywhere  on  her  own  .  but  another  child …     well  ,   even  alice  made  friends  in  wonderland  .  she  made  her  way  towards  the  shore  where  deeply  beige  and  brown  sand  mixed  with  darker  pebbles  made  homes  for  crabs  and  for  another  little  girl  whom,  like  her,   seemed  to  be  alone ,  playing  at  the  edge  of  the  waves  .   “   hi.    ”   she  offered  ,  sheepish  and  terribly  scottish  .   “  i’m  amy  .   d’you  wanna  play?    ”

          𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒  𝑖𝑠  𝑎  𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠  𝑖𝑛  𝑡𝘩𝑒  𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠  𝑜𝑓  𝑎𝑛  𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑎𝑛;   this one in particular with its cool,  at times chilling,  breeze that slips past your skin like the dull side of a knife  ––  a cool spoon against the hairs of your arm.  gracie, amidst this cold, sits alone as she’s oft to do, tracing shapes in the sand until it looks like maps, or constellations. a brilliant display of something unearthly, something she was sure she’d never seen before. it was, to her, unworth doing had anyone else seen it before.

at the sound of a stranger’s voice, she turns, though at the behest of her mother and father both, does well to remember her cautious hesitation. nonetheless, she is more reckless than her sister has ever been, and a sort of spite to maintain the reputation has always led her to breaking stranger danger codes in the past. as gaze meets the blue coat, and finds its way up to the eyes of the woman it belongs to, curiosity cocks gracie’s head to one side. a stranger, indeed. but she liked her eyes. there was something about them that reminded her of her mother, in a way  ––  the kind that held a secret,  the kind that broke like waves against jagged rocks,  the strong kind,  with wonder.