#a ginger from a family that obviously has freckles as a general trait

[daily-tartag]

#31

hairstyle meme!

+with freckles & silly versions>>

[once-upon-a-memoir]

LFC :: Zatna Spiteveil

The Basics --- - 

Full name: Zatna Spiteveil, previously Mirthheart. Nickname(s): Zatbab, stabby gal, sunflower, sunshine, shadowstep.  Title(s): Shadowblade. Alias(es): Eclipse.  Age: Around 2900 years old. Birthday: 10th of July.  Race: Sin'dorei.  Gender & pronouns: Female, she/her pronouns.  Sexuality: Nobody fucking knows.  Marital Status: Unofficially going out with @frostwyrmsfury​‘s Andiais. 

Physical Appearance --- - 

Hair: The majority of her head is bald and scarred, the hair scalded and burned away during a childhood accident. Now Zatna shaves what of her hair still grows, instead opting to wear pale ginger wigs whenever she isn't dawning her leather hood or scarf-cloak. Eyes: Golden yet with a tint of darkness. Her eyes are tired and heavy yet alert and sharp, seeing the world through a veil of pain and morals.  Height: 5'/152.4 cm.  Weight: 112.44 lbs/51 kg.  Build: Ectomorph. Zatna is thin yet obviously well-trained, her strength focused on agility and flexibility.  Scars: Burn scars on her shoulder, neck, and head. Several scars on her… everywhere, really. She essentially looks like a grizzled war-veteran (because that’s what she is). Two small pieces of the outer edge of her ear have also been torn off. Tattoos: A few small, simple, and minimalistic ones that seem silly but are deeply symbolic. Distinguished Traits:

Her relaxed posture.

The slight freckling of her skin.

The bags under her eyes.

Silent footsteps.

A missing finger on her right hand.

Common Accessories:

A scarf in either red, black, or purple that you really cannot tell if it’s a scarf or a cloak. Spoilers: it’s both.

A one-handed sword, sheathe strapped to her back.

Two daggers at her hips and several other forms of sharp weaponry hidden across her body.

A cloth pouch and a leather purse attached to her belt.

Two golden hoops in her right ear.

Personal --- - 

Profession: Occasional assassin, bounty hunter, tracker, and monster hunter for hire. Full-time Shadowblade and hunter of oppressors, warmongers, and whoever else breaks her moral standard for a living. Hobbies:

Singing.

Journal-writing.

Grumbling over existence, inequality, and people’s poor lack of morals and ethics.

Researching and observing.

Skill(s): Knife; hand-to-hand combat; shooting with a handgun or revolver; daggers, and one-handed axes and swords combat; singing; a bit of Void, Light, and Arcane magic; outdoors survival; surviving otherwise impossible to survive situations; strategising; acting; winging it; pulling pranks. Languages: Fluent Thalassian, conversational Common and Orcish, and a few words of Zandali and Darnassian. Residence: Zatna has a few hidden, barely used cottages scattered about Azeroth but no real, stable home. There’s one in Azsuna, one in Eversong Woods, one in Feralas, and one in Deadwind Pass. She also considers Keizi and Knoton’s abode a home, as well as Zatna’s parents’ estate outside Silvermoon. Still, she’s most likely to sleep and reside in the crowd of the Uncrowned or the wild. Birthplace: Silvermoon City. Religion: None. Patron Deity: None. Fears: Losing people; drowning; having a mission team mate be captured due out of her lack of skill.

Relationships --- - 

Spouse: None. Children: None. Parents:

 Vazolra Mirthheart (mother, alive).

Jathun Mirthheart (father, alive).

Siblings: None of blood, but the one person she considered a brother is double-deceased. His name was Itillan Riverseeker. Other Relatives: The only other relatives Zatna knows of is her mother’s side of the family, who abused and bullied every family member into becoming a follower of the Void, which led to them being exiled and becoming ren’dorei. Zatna refers to any of those relatives as “Crimsons”, short for Crimsonveil. Pets: None that are still in her care. When she lived with Keizi, Knoton, and Mo’hir in Durotar, she had several cats and raptors.

Traits --- -

Extroverted / Introverted / In between /: Zatna is an extroverted person, but, lately, with the change of pace in her life, she has become far less social in any way that isn’t business related.

Disorganised / Organised / In between /: She’s not a neat freak but doesn’t make a mess either.

Close Minded / Open Minded / In between /: So long you don’t try and oppress people or hurt them for no apparent reason in her vicinity, there’s next to nothing that she won’t accept and respect.

Calm / Anxious / In between /: Being anxious has never really been a thing she’s done.

Disagreeable / Agreeable / In between /: She fights for a cause and what’s right, not to get people to agree.

Cautious / Reckless / In between /: She tries, and fails, to be cautious.

Patient / Impatient / In between /: This, somehow, always surprises people.

Outspoken / Reserved / In between /: Zatna used to say literally everything on her mind. Now she’s more reserved with personal things, like emotions and her mental state, but anything else she’ll more than happily yell to the entire world about.

Leader / Follower / In between /: She can’t follow orders worth shit. Not even her own.

Empathetic / Apathetic / In between /: She knows and understands and can relate to feelings, but simply has a very, very difficult time actually feeling them. This counts for her own but also things that are supposed to rub off from other people.

Optimistic / Pessimistic / In between /: It frequently changes whether she’s optimistic or pessimistic, though she has a tendency to lean towards a sense of pessimistic optimism. Like, it will probably be fine, but only moderately, and there’ll be some casualties, and overall Zatna simply expects everything to be mediocre.

Traditional / Modern / In between /: No comment.

Hard-working / Lazy / In between /: She can and will work through entire days without eating and sleeping.

Cultured / Uncultured / In between /: Depends on what culture you mean. Sin’dorei culture? Eh, a little cultured. Meme culture? Very cultured. Manners? Not cultured at all.

Loyal / Disloyal / In between /: Her trust is very, very difficult to get, but once you do she will die for you. And, generally, she lives by a “no man is left behind” mindset on missions, unless it’s absolutely, one hundred percent necessary to leave them behind.

Faithful / Unfaithful / In between /: Only thing she has faith in is her ability to track down and kill people.

Assertive / Timid / In between /: Don’t get fooled by her height, you’ll wish her aura never came near you.

Additional Information --- - 

Smoking: Occasionally. Alcohol: Frequently, if she didn’t work so much. Drugs: Possibly, if offered. Triggers: Drowning; being stuck beneath something in the middle of a fire. Face claim: Kim Jihae. Theme song: Life by Neffex. Alignment: Chaotic good / neutral. In-game classes she takes after the most: Subtlety rogue with a splurge of outlaw and simple Arcane mage.

Alt Verses --- - 

Brightheart: Not much changes here aside from the fact she, briefly, has a successful love life with Halduron Brightwing. They have three kids and end up getting a divorce after they’ve all migrated from their home.

Modern: A woman in the mid-30s still working towards her college degree. Up until a few years ago, she’s been making her income through professional downhill mountain-biking. 

Forsaken: Zatna dies in Northrend and is raised as Forsaken. She’s very nonchalant about it. Everybody else isn’t.

RP Hooks --- - 

Academy: Vazolra, Zatna’s mom, is the headmistress of a magic academy in the heart of Silvermoon where Zatna, alongside many, many other people, have graduated.

Bounty hunter: Not exactly feeling like going off to an alternative universe for someone who’s already out of reach to harm anyone else on Azeroth, Zatna spent the entirety of Warlords of Draenor as a bounty hunter, alongside her best friends Knoton and Mo’hir. Zatna still occasionally go after bounties and accept bounty hunter jobs, if they line up with her style of targets.

The Uncrowned: Zatna is a Shadowblade going under the alias Eclipse. She frequently launches campaigns, plots tactics, and gathers information to take down vile people of all kinds. In this line of work, she needs the help of all kinds of people, and preferably a lot of them.

Taverns: Zatna is social butterfly and quite the drinker when she finally lets herself take a break from work.

Contact Information --- -

where i roleplay: discord and tumblr. zatna can be found at @once-upon-a-memoir​ while follows and likes come from @foxfictioncentral. what im looking for:

action & adventure rp

people willing to further a plot idea i have that features a drug-caused disease, a lot of murdering, frustration, and several attempts and fails at coming up with a cure

connections of all sorts (business, friends, enemies, familial, what have you)

slice of life

emotionally charged rp

long-term and short-term connections

pre-established relationships

angst

detective rp

what i wont do: explicit sex, self-harm, suicide, in-game rp (it’s an anxiety thing), and excessive gore.

i mainly write multi-paragraphs style as i have a tendency to vomit words, but i won’t say no to rping with different styles. my writing is very emotion heavy, and my favorite thing to write is emotionally challenging stuff. give me all the angst, tho i write p much anything

useful links: about || relationships || verses || starter call rules / guidelines / ooc info

other muse blogs: @hugs-not-anonymous​ @conflictedenergies​

mun blogs:  @foxfictioncentral​ @jcfoxington​ @arcticartings​

[facadesmiled]

A REALLY LONG CHARACTER  SURVEY. RULES.  repost , don’t  reblog  ! tag  10  ! good  luck  ! TAGGED.  @maxabre​ ( thank you mate ! ! ♥ ) TAGGING. Imma tag some of my new followers, so @suitshinigami​, @hackinggod​, @pareidae​, @animaltamerbeast​, @bcwtruckled​, @hypnohatter​ and also @kniifethrower​, @godschose​, @solisnumen​, @moanaialiki​, and... oh heck, whoever feels like it. You go guys. *thumbs up*

❤ FULL NAME :  Edmund John Clemence Taylor NICKNAME : Joker ( technically his name / alias, since his real one is unknown. ) AGE : 25 BIRTHDAY : April 2nd, 1863 ETHNIC GROUP : English NATIONALITY : English LANGUAGE / S : English, some French and German. Learning Spanish currently. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Asexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Panromantic. Has no preference to either women or men. Basically swings every which way. RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Is normally single, though is mainly dating Beast or Clopin ( @pitroi​ ). CLASS : Circuses don’t really have a set class. Though, as he was adopted by Baron Kelvin, he technically is from a high class. HOME TOWN / AREA : London, England, specifically the East End. CURRENT HOME : the grounds of the Noah’s Ark Circus. Secondary home is the manor of Baron Kelvin.  PROFESSION : Ringmaster and part time clown of the Noah’s Ark Circus, Joker leads his family and enjoys making their audience laugh. Behind the vibrant curtains, however, he’s a kidnapper for Baron Kelvin; he kidnaps children and kills anyone who gets in his way. In the Alive!AU, he works tech and backstage in general at an Opera House in London.

❤ PHYSICAL. HAIR : Ginger, hangs down a little bit past his ears when not pulled up. Tied into little braids at the back, which are bleached at the end and hang down to the top of his back. EYES : A vibrant purple colour. FACE : Very soft and gentle, with little lines around his eyes and corners of his mouth from where he’s been smiling all the time. He also normally wears makeup, though it’s mostly around his eyes. A light blue teardrop made of facepaint droops down from his left eye. LIPS : Average sized, though occasionally covered in some kind of clear gloss. A little snaggletooth can be seen peeking out from the side. COMPLEXION : Not exactly pale, but not exactly a normal white skin tone either. He’s somewhere in between. BLEMISHES : Not really considered a blemish, but he has freckles that he hides with makeup on his face, and is also peppered with them on his shoulders and upper back. SCARS : Generally all around his body. Joker has a missing right arm, obviously. Though other than that, he has a bullet hole scar in his upper left shoulder on his back from where he was shot once on a kidnapping mission. There’s also some cuts on his forearm from mishaps with his swordcane or a knife. On his back as well are general scars from where he’s been beaten, both by Kelvin and by people on the East End. And finally, there’s a small burn mark on his butt from where Jumbo’s fire got.... a little too close to him during a show. TATTOOS : N/A HEIGHT : 6′1″ WEIGHT :  Not entirely sure. BUILD : Average body size, but curvy. He’s stronger than he looks, even with a missing arm. Most of his muscles are in his legs. FEATURES : A skeleton-shaped prosthetic right arm. ALLERGIES : N/A USUAL HAIR STYLE : Pulled back by pins until it looks something like a lion’s mane. A small but hangs over his left eye, directly over his teardrop facepaint feature. The longer, bleached pieces of hair are in small braids and cascade down his back. In the Alive!AU, it’s all short and down ( a little bit past his ears, like in canon ) and the longer pieces have been cut off, though occasionally he clips back his bangs when he’s working. USUAL FACE LOOK : Smirk, casual smile, or a full blown ( often fake ) performer's smile. USUAL CLOTHING : His circus outfit, which consists of a white dress shirt, a ruffled elastic belt that hangs loose a little at the end, a grey and black diamond vest, big yellow bow, black poofy pants with grey diamonds on the side hem, black and white curly toed boots, and a purple coat that adorns his shoulders that has gold trim and diamonds on the ends of the sleeves and bottom. For a full reference, see here and here. When not in his circus outfit, he wears a normal Victorian style suit, as his other job is a butler. The only circus-y thing about this suit is a black and grey diamond bow at his neck- it’s not as big as the one on his circus outfit though.

❤ PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Loosing those he loves, being abandoned, death, life after death, heights, people finding out what he really is, his family receiving a terrible fate of some kind. ASPIRATION / S : Getting his family ‘ over the hills and far away. ‘ Nothing else matters. POSITIVE TRAITS : Caring, cheerful, joking, helpful, consoling, sympathetic, encouraging, positive in general, complimentary, passionate. NEGATIVE TRAITS : Liar, stoic, full of self-hatred, rarely lets people in, negative in mentality, strict, oblivious, basically a living, breathing, walking facade of a human being. ZODIAC : Aries

TEMPERAMENT : Melancholic: The melancholic temperament is fundamentally introverted and thoughtful. Melancholic people often were perceived as very (or overly) pondering and considerate, getting rather worried when they could not be on time for events. Melancholics can be highly creative in activities such as poetry and art - and can become preoccupied with the tragedy and cruelty in the world. Often they are perfectionists. They are self-reliant and independent; one negative part of being a melancholic is that they can get so involved in what they are doing they forget to think of others. SOUL TYPE / S : Caregiver: If you recognize yourself as a Caregiver, you may already have noticed the tendency to put others’ needs ahead of your own. This trait makes it essential that you go out of your way to take care of yourself as well as those around you. Remember that you’re no use to others if you’re not healthy or fit enough to help them. You are loyal to the extreme, and you guard those who are entrusted to your care with your life. Fighting another person’s battles can be important if that individual is unable to stand up for themselves, though you should be cautious not to disempower those in your care by not allowing them to do things for themselves. Your empathy allows you to understand nonverbal emotional signals. This ability will tell you when someone needs your help, and how best to assist them. It is common for Caregiver types to intuitively know what someone needs at any given time. VICE HABIT / S : Drinking ‘til drunk, spiraling into numb depression, holding in emotions. VIRTUES / VICES: Charity, diligence, kindness, patience. / Pride, sorrow, wrath. FAITH : Believes in God, Jesus, Angels, the Devil, ect. No set religion though, just general beliefs.   GHOSTS ? : Definitely. He believes in all manner of the supernatural. AFTERLIFE ? : Yes- and he’s scared of it. REINCARNATION ? : Yes. He feels like a spirit can choose to be reincarnated, if they so wish to be. ALIENS ? :  Maybe? In a modern verse, he probably would. EDUCATION LEVEL : Just basics- how to read and write. He wasn’t taught much else at Kelvin’s manor. Performance style education is high, obviously. He knows his way around the arts.

❤ FAMILY. FATHER : Unknown birth father / Baron Kelvin MOTHER : Karen Taylor SIBLINGS : The first tier of the Noah’s Ark Circus, and the circus in general really. Also, the children at Renbourn Workhouse. EXTENDED FAMILY : N/A. NAME MEANING / S :  The name Edmund is derived from the Old English elements ēad, meaning "prosperity" or "riches", and mund, meaning "protector". HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : N/A. ( Thanks Yana T. :/ No I’m kidding. Really. I swear. )

❤ FAVORITES. HOLIDAY : Christmas! He loves the joy and cheer, and also giving out gifts. MONTH : November. SEASON : Autumn. PLACE :  London, since that is and always will be his home. Though, he also like Paris! WEATHER : Snow, or a brisk fall day. SOUND :  The bustle as the audience dims down to silence, in anticipation for a show. SCENT / S : Anything that reminds him of a stage. TASTE / S : Caramel! Also cheese. FEEL / S : Being warm when it’s cold outside, the slight heat from stage lights, getting tingly from excitement, joy, fluffy things. ANIMAL / S :  Any and all! COLORS :  Purple, orange, and yellow!

❤ EXTRA. TALENTS :  Juggling, cracking jokes, leading, preforming, singing, playing a few instruments- he can do a lot.  BAD AT : Opening up to people, high wire/tightrope ( he did it once- never again ), thinking things through. TURN ONS : N/A. Asexual, and doesn’t really care for it, regardless. TURN OFFS :  See above. HOBBIES : Attending all kinds of shows ( operas, orchestras, musicals, other circuses, ect. ), reading, practicing his skills, writing small poems or short stories. TROPES : Above Good and Evil: He didn’t care what he had to do, as long as he thought it would save the other children.

All For Nothing: He believed he was protecting his “brothers and sisters” back at the Renbon Workhouse by obeying Kelvin. After he and all the first-tier members of the circus die because of it, Ciel and Sebastian find the Renbon Workhouse abandoned. They assume Kelvin allowed Doctor to kill the children for his experiments with artificial limbs. Joker and the rest died for nothing.

Knight Templar Big Brother: He will do anything for his foster siblings, even kidnap children because his demented “father” makes him believe he’s protecting his brothers and sisters back at the Renbon Workhouse by doing so (although there are actually no children there anymore).

My Master, Right or Wrong: No matter how much he hates to kidnap innocent children and force them to perform in dangerous shows in which they die gruesomely; if that is what his “father” wants he will do it, since he’s still the man who saved him and his “siblings”, and the one supposedly protecting the other children at the Renbon Workhouse.

Not So Different: To Ciel. When he begs Ciel to not kill Kelvin he states that the man is the one who saved them and is helping all their friends at the orphanage. Even if Joker and the others had to do commit horrible actions to further their cause, he still feels it’s right if it gives all the abandoned children a better future. Ciel’s response shows that he understands their need to better themselves, even if it’s at the expense of other people, and replies: “To save your own skins, you obeyed him and sacrificed others… You fought to protect your world. What’s wrong with that? In the end, "justice” is just an official line taken by those in power to serve their own ends. No one’s looking out for others. If you’re careless, you’ll be robbed. There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who steal, and those who are stolen from. And today, I steal your futures. That’s all this is.“ AESTHETIC TAGS : circuses, stages, blood over flowers,  fairy lights, autumn leaves, warm colours.

❤ FC INFO. MAIN FC: Himself ALT FC / S : N/A OLDER FC / S : N/A YOUNGER FC / S : Also himself VOICE CLAIM: Mathew Mercer ( see the BOC dub, here. ) Singing voice claim, Miura Ryosuke ( see the Noah’s Ark Circus musical, here. ) GENDERBENT  FC / S : N/A

[nikkistrations]

I’m going to start this with one of my favorite pieces I wrote a couple years back.  It is a self-insert piece written around the prompt below.  I was sixteen at the time.

Your story needs to include this line, either at the beginning, the end, or somewhere in between: “Nothing shocks me, I’m a scientist.”

  Nothing ever surprised him.  At least, very little did.  That was both the most annoying, yet the most admirable trait that man held.  All the random cases, the threats, nothing ever seemed to surprise him.  The only thing I’ve ever seen baffle him was why the deerstalker cap had two brims - and even that ceased to bother him after he had discarded the cap.

Not even the sudden materialization of a bright blue police call box surprised him.  It surprised me, though.  I looked quickly to the man who sat calmly and silently on the couch across the room from me, gazing over a laptop screen.  No look of bafflement.  Absolutely nothing.  He just sat there, fingers pressed together in the raised steeple position, gazing at the blue box which sat in the center of our living room.

It sat there silently for a moment, as did Sherlock and I.  He sat there silently, seeming to be studying the contraption.

“Sherlock–”

“I see it, John.” Sherlock interrupted.

“Then what is it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?  It’s a 1960’s Police Call Box.”  He answered matter-of-factly.

“Yes, but how did it get here?  Just now?”  My voice began to crack in confusion and slight panic.

Before Sherlock could give his long and drawn out explanations, the door to the box opened, and out came a strange man dancing.  His arms waved about spasmodically as he bounded into our living room in slow motion - literally walking in slow motion as though he were pretending there was little to no gravity in the room.  "Behold!“  The man exclaimed looking up at the ceiling through the helmet of the rather old and tattered space suit he wore.  "Wait a minute…” confusion crossed his features. “This isn’t the moon.”

If it were possible for me to grow more confused than I already was, I did.  A strange man just burst out of an old police call box wearing a space suit and was apparently anticipating finding himself on the moon.  "The moon?“ I muttered to Sherlock, though he didn’t seem to have heard me.

“It’s not?” A female voice inquired from within the box.  A young red-haired girl poked her head out from the box, half dressed in a space suit herself.  She seemed to notice Sherlock and me, unlike the first one.  "Doctor, who’s house have we landed in?“  She asked.

The man, apparently known as ‘Doctor’, twirled around from where he had been facing the girl to face us.  I gazed at him wide-eyed while Sherlock kept his scrutinizing gaze that he so often wears when meeting new people - or simply being around those he knows.  If I hadn’t seen him smile myself, I swear he never would have at all.

"Oh, hello!” Doctor exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear.  "This your house?“

"Flat.”  Sherlock corrected flatly.

“Oh, I stayed in a flat once.  A fun time, it really was.  Of course it turned out the top floor wasn’t really the top floor.  Actually, the top floor had never existed at all.”  The man began to babble.  The young girl tried to get him to stop, but was unsuccessful in her attempts.  That must be what other people see when I’m trying to interrupt Sherlock when he’s on to something and is trying to deduce the fine details.

“Aliens?”  I asked after he finally finished his wild tale of an alien species attacking the human population.  He talked of it as though it happened every other day, if not every day.

“Yes, aliens.”  He replied in an almost offended tone. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about all of this.”

“Well, only from science fiction.” I replied.

The man removed his space helmet and threw it inside the police call box, where I heard it thud a couple of times, then continue to roll. “Only in science fiction?  Practically the whole world should know about this by now.  They’ve only attacked so many different places since the beginning of time.  Though, they seem more focused on England and occasionally America, but I haven’t figured out why yet.”  The man seemed genuinely offended that I had not heard of all these occurrences, and especially for not believing what he was telling me.

“Yes, only in science fiction.  Nothing has happened around here involving your so-called ‘aliens’, and if it did it was not made known to the general public.” Sherlock said, finally stepping in.

I was about to say something, but the man known as Doctor spoke up first. “What do you mean 'not made public’?  So many things happened just down the street.”  He was about to start rambling again, but the young woman put her hand on his shoulder.

“Doctor, perhaps we should go.  You know how ordinary people are.  They won’t believe you unless there’s solid proof right in front of them.” She said, turning him to look at her.

He whispered something back at her.  It sounded like something along the lines of 'But there is solid proof right in front of them’.  "You knew there was something odd and alien about it the moment you laid eye on it.“

"I know that, you know that, but ordinary people can’t comprehend things like I can.  You said so yourself.”  The girl replied.  I was not following.  Sherlock seemed to be picking up on some invisible hints, though.  I had learned to recognize that look in his eyes.  The look that shows he knows he can prove someone wrong.  But, I think I might have picked up on something he didn’t that day:  That young woman was challenging one of us to try to understand.  And Sherlock took the bait.

He stood from his seat on the couch, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked up to them.  His slippers tapped on the rug-covered hardwood as his robe flowed around his pajama-clad self.  He studied the duo closely, taking down notes in his head.  He mentioned a few out loud:  Natural red-head, liar, older than they look, and pain were among them.  I could tell which one he meant when he said 'natural red-head’ only one of them was ginger.

He stood before the two, gazing at them intently.  He then turned his full attention to Doctor.  "You’re not human.“  He said straightforwardly.  I was taken aback by his accusation.  Doctor raised his eyebrows, smiling again. "And how did you deduce that, Mr. Holmes?” He asked.

“Your eyes are a dead giveaway.”  All was silent after he said that. “Your eyes have seen many things, you try to hide them, but you don’t very well.”

“They always did say 'the eyes are the doors to the soul’.” Doctor said.

“Windows.” Sherlock corrected.  Doctor shared a knowing smile with the young woman as Sherlock continued. “Aside from that, you just said that you were expecting to be on the moon, but you’re not astronauts, so, you’re either crazy, or this contraption you brought with you is some sort of space ship.  I’m not generally one to believe in such things, I never found space to be very important, but it did just appear in my flat, so it is highly plausible.

Aside from that, you are ancient.  Very old.  You’re running away from something, perhaps your past.  Also, you’re lying.  A habitual liar, if I am correct.  No one ever knows if you’re telling the truth.”

“Yowza!  That was brilliant!” Doctor exclaimed in excitement. “Down to the smallest detail.  Do her next!” The strange man pushes the girl forward.

“A young girl?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes.  Oh!  Guess her age.  No one ever get that right.”

“Sixteen.” Sherlock replied bluntly.

“Holy shit.”  The girl laughed.  "He got it right.“

I was stunned.  I thought she was a good ten years older than that.

"Of course he got it right.  This is Sherlock Holmes we’re talking about.” Doctor replied.

“You’re disorganized and emotionally unstable, as well as an insomniac.  You’re angry by nature, a tomboy.  She’s pale, fairly, but has a decent amount of freckles, so she’s from somewhere sunny.  I would say she’s from Dorset were she British, but that accent is obviously fake.  You’re American, from the eastern states, a bit difficult to say which one…”

“Indiana.”  The girl said, impressed that he had seen through the façade.  Her fake accent was quite convincing, though.

“You’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Of course not.  Boys are stupid and immature.”  She replied.

“So, you’re into girls then.”  Sherlock stated, and something snapped in her.  She gave Sherlock a good hard kick to the shin.

“Just because I hate boys doesn’t make me a lesbian!”  She shouted in anger.  She went to kick an in-pain Sherlock again, but was pulled away by Doctor.

“Nikki, we do not solve things with violence.”  He scolded as he dragged her farther away from Sherlock, who was holding his leg in silent agony.

The girl known as Nikki turned to Doctor. “I solve everything with violence.”

“Go inside, fix your hair, and change your clothes.” Doctor told Nikki, and, to my surprise, she listened.

“Not to mention a violent streak.”  Sherlock muttered as he limped back to his couch.

“You had that coming.”  I said. “You even said she was angry natured, so what were you thinking?”

“I thought I would test some possible anger triggers.  I suppose that one could stem from constant harassment over sexuality from family and peers.”

“You would be correct.” Doctor says, sitting next to Sherlock on the couch. “I apologize for her behavior; she really is a very angry child.”

“Are you her guardian?” I asked, leaning forward in my armchair.

“No.  She’s my companion.” He answered.  "She accompanies me in my travels through time and space and saving the universe.“

I paused for a moment to process that.  It all sounded like complete rubbish to me, but I decided to humor him for a moment longer.  "In that?”  I pointed to the police call box.  He nodded yes. “It’s a bit… small, isn’t it?”

“Oh, it’s much bigger on the inside.  Would you like to see it?”  Doctor asked.  Without saying a word, Sherlock shuffled into the box.  Doctor watched after him.  "Well, he could have at least put on real shoes.“ He said, following after my flatmate.

I sat in my armchair, and pursed my lips in thought.  With a sigh, I stood.  "Fine, fine.  I am coming.”  I said after seeing Sherlock poke his head out the door.  Once inside, I froze.  It was very big inside.  Bigger than our flat, possibly bigger than the Buckingham Palace.

“Welcome to the TARDIS!” Doctor calls from the top of a platform which surrounded a console.

Still doubting what I saw, I stepped back outside and paced around the so-called TARDIS.  I stepped back inside after a couple of laps.  I took a moment to try to form my thoughts into words.  "How…“ I began to ask, only to be interrupted. "Oh, don’t bother asking.”  Turning my head, I see Nikki leaning over the railing near the entrance.  Her hair was in a braid thrown over her shoulder, and she wore some Bohemian style clothing. “It’s long, and drawn out, and physics, physics, physics, science, science, science, blah, blah, blah, theories.”

“I see…” I replied.

“I say it’s some sort of alien magic, but he always shoots me down when I say so.”  At that exact moment, Doctor called out 'science’, and she nodded in his general direction with a face that read 'see what I mean’. “You’re reaction is normal, though you’re more calm about it than most others.  Your partner isn’t very surprised by this at all.”

“Hey, that’s right.” Doctor said, turning to Sherlock.  He was now out of his space suit, wearing a tan tweed jacket, black dress pants, and a red bowtie. “You weren’t very shocked at all.”

“Nothing shocks me, I’m a scientist.  What did you expect me to do, run about like a mad man asking loads of questions?”

“Yes.” The Doctor replied.  "Everyone else does.“

"Well, I hope you brought your coats, boys.” Doctor said, running to the other side of the large console which reached from floor to ceiling.

“What?  Why?”  I asked.

“It’s cold where we’re heading.”  Nikki replied, and a strange noise began to fill the room.  She grabbed my wrist and dragged me up to the platform Doctor and Sherlock were already up on.  "You might want to hold on to something.  It’s a bumpy ride.“  And with that, the TARDIS took off.  It shifted, it spun, and I was holding onto the rail on the edge of the console for my life.  Sherlock seemed startled by the sudden movement, but not too surprised.  That would be unprofessional. His slippers did make him slide on the glass floor a bit, though.  Nikki seemed to have experience, and acted as though that were more like a theme park ride.  And Doctor ran around the console, pulling on levers and pushing buttons, taking us to our destination.

Suddenly, we stopped.

"Where are we?” I asked.  Nikki and Doctor looked at each other, smiling, and they said 'the moon’.  They began towards the exit, jumping down the stairs from the platform, and I asked, “Don’t we need the suits for that?”

“No, no, no.  That was just to get your attention.” Doctor said, and I stopped walking towards the stairs.  Sherlock walked past me, asking me if I’m not coming.  He seemed completely unphased by the fact that Doctor just said he intentionally came to our flat in space suits.  "As long as you don’t go past ten feet from the TARDIS you should be fine, but it is very cold so do grab a coat.“ As we walked past the exit, there were no coats to speak of hanging about, but DOCTOR did hand us each one.  Our own coats.  I don’t recall seeing him grab them, but I put it on none the less.  Stepping outside the TARDIS, I look around.  There’s nothing but rock, darkness, and stars.

"I always wondered what it would be like to stargaze from the moon.” Nikki muttered, looking up into space as she tightened her scarf around her neck.  It really was cold.

“Why would you wonder about something like that?” Sherlock asked, but he was looking, too.

“I only ever saw the same stars all my life.  I wanted to see more, from a new perspective, and now, I have.”  She smiled softly to herself.  She was acting so sweet that, by that point, I had almost forgotten that she tried to break Sherlock’s leg with her foot.

We walked around the TARDIS for a couple of minutes, letting Nikki get her fill of the view of the stars from the moon before we finally left.  Doctor took us back home, and we said our farewells.  Before they departed, Doctor spoke up.

“Now, Nikki, is there something you would like to say to Mr. Holmes?”

“Not that I can think of.” Nikki replied.

“How about an apology?” He urged.

“Oh, right.” She turned to look at Sherlock.  "I’m sorry you’re such an ass.“  She said it so sincerely, I thought she was serious… but she wasn’t.  She laughed for a moment before she spoke again. "I’m sorry for kicking you…. because you’re such an ass.”

Doctor sighed, and Sherlock rolled his eyes.  I couldn’t help but smile though.  She was such a strange, but straightforward girl.  They closed up the TARDIS, and left.

I do not remember the original writer of the prompt, if you do please message me and I will give credit where credit is due.