#herleaf

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞. Not only for the fact that Clara seemed to be entirely ignorant to the true danger she was in, but also because there didn't seem to be even a speck of fear or intimidation inside of her. Some people yapped away as a coping mechanism - which was always irritating - but there's something different about this one. Something ... something they can't pin point.

"Well, aren't you a brave little rascal." ( It's all about balance, Clara Oswald. They'll only be amused by this for so long. ) They take a moment to actually think, however - head tilting, gaze flickering away.

schools, edwin has found, do tend to change very little no matter the decade. children laughing boisteriously as they are taught a history cherrypicked by the winning factions and skills that some might use later in life. despite the bullying and eventual murder he had learned quite a lot at his own. not that it mattered much now. the lexicographical glasses sit on his face as he squats next to a strange statue erected in the library of this, what charles had told him, comprehensive. a strange name for a school but edwin assumes it is another modern invention that he missed.

Oh, and he thought he had his work cut out for him with Gwen bloody Cooper. The bossiness coming out of this one, it's almost as if the shorter they get, the more commanding they are. He turns, hands in pockets as he gives the stranger a look. But he doesn't stop moving backwards.

@herleaf | left a like on here for a small starter

Agatha couldn't help but look the strange woman up and down, having never seen any clothing like hers, let alone anyone like her at all.

"Can...I help you?"

pot meet kettle. takes one to know one. people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. the english language brimmed with such phrases, and if she’d been at home, she could have reached for one of her notebooks—each page crammed with idioms she’d scribbled down from novels over the years. if she had a tiny bit of patience, she might have summed a few more from memory, but oswin grated on her last nerve; if there was ever a day for cliches, it was today.

❛⠀⠀and you talk all the time, but never say anything worthwhile! ⠀ ❜

to have your muse accidentally wound mine! / accepting!

🌙 * ― 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃

There's a sense of incredulousness in his gaze as it snaps towards her. His brow arching and the slightest tilt to his head.

"I don't recall my intelligence being brought into question here." Only hers, because she is the one that got them in to the mess they currently found themselves. The fact he had been dragged down as well was currently being forgotten.

They both had their own defense mechanisms.