Clara Oswald is going the long way round (alwaysbeenthere) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-11-05 13:06:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, buffy summers, clara oswald |
Who: Buffy and Clara plus NPC!Guy who thinks he’s the Sheriff of Nottingham
What: Buffy thinks she’s Lady Robin Hood and that Clara is Marian
When: Halloween Weekend
Where: Club
Warnings: Should be none!
Status: Log | Complete
Clara had never done a proper Halloween thing. Oh sure, there were parties back home, but nothing to the extent that it seemed to be here in America. It was a newer thing back in England. Which was fine, but it also meant that Clara wanted to go out and experience a proper Halloween. Mostly. There would be no trick or treating or anything like that. But going to a club with a friend in costume? That seemed like a Halloween-y type thing to do.
Which was how she ended up at some club, dressed in the dress she had met Robin Hood in. Because it was such a popular club night, they had gotten there early. Even with getting there early, Clara still managed to get separated from Buffy, but no matter. Making her way through the crowds of people, the petite teacher noted that something seemed to shift in random people, as if they were confused. Okaaaaaay then. Noted and filed away just in case, but first…
Ah! There was the blonde.
“Buffy! Hey!” Smiling in relief, Clara placed a hand on her friend’s arm just in case she hadn’t heard her over the music.
Life had been nothing short of awful since she’d woken up from dying at the hands of the Master. Buffy had grappled with mortality, having to save the world, and then the fallout thereafter. She’d lost friends, and one of them had died such a human death she didn’t bother to hope that he’d ever come back from it.
In light of that, she’d dreamed of villains coming to town and trying to take down her whole school. Something about the dream, the reminder of her old love atop it all, forced Buffy out of that depression she’d steeped heavily into and stood up again. Life sucked, but it was still her life and she couldn’t let it win.
So, she’d found a femme version of a Robin Hood costume to complement a good friend, then went out to dance and attempt to have a relatively normal evening. It was going well enough until she began to feel uncomfortably distant from herself, like something wanted to subdue everything about her. The last thing she remembered thinking was how typical this was of the OC.
And out sprung lady Robin Hood.
If not for Clara’s grasp, she would have gone parading off into the night to seek justice for the poor. This noisy establishment was no place for it, but oh--the sight of Clara stopped her in her tracks. She could take a slight reprieve from fighting the good fight.
“I know not this Buffy of whom you speak, but…” The smile she gave wasn’t at all characteristic of Buffy. “You must be that maiden fair, Marian--are you not?”
“And getting into--” Even before she was able to finish her sentence, Clara was realising what was going on around them. The confusion some people were having. Conversations. Orange County just went Orange County on them. Again. And now it seemed Buffy thought she was Robin Hood and that made her Marian. “Right, yes.”
Admittedly when she was younger, she used to dream of being Marian. This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. So far though, nothing horrible was going on. Just weirdness. Weirdness Clara could handle.
“I am she.” Inside she was trying not to laugh. Though she was also keeping an eye on their surroundings. Just in case. Still, much better than the trauma of dreams. She brushed them off as weird but awesome adventures because a lot were. But then there were the ones that broke her heart and she wasn’t wanting to think about those.
Right now it seemed that Clara was going to have to keep ‘Robin’ from creating too much of a scene. How card could that be? (Wait no, she knew exactly how hard that could be.)
“Be still my heart!” She responded, hand swooping to her chest for dramatic effect. So much bravado had possessed her, Buffy would have an incredibly difficult time shaking all of it off when the OC ceased it funny business. Until then, her occupied mind was brimming with ways to impress o maiden fair.
“You are far more glorious in person, my lady,” she embellished. Chin straightening, she surveyed the throng of affected people. “And by that, I should say: this is no place for a lady. Let us make haste and put this establishment behind us! You could be in danger!”
Clara had one key mantra repeating in her head. Do. Not. Laugh. She had no idea how long this would last (hopefully not long for Buffy’s dignity’s sake) and knew better than to try and claim this wasn’t real. One, it seemed to be affecting many people so it wasn’t just Buffy playing around and well, it was rude to break illusions?
“You flatter me, Robin of Locksley.” The bravado and charm was quite similar to what she had seen in her dreams, though there was a sadness in the eyes of the Robin there as he had lost Marian and here, well, Buffy thought she was Marian. “I assure you, I am quite capable of defending myself if need be.”
“Did I hear Robin of Locksley?”
Or… turning, Clara could only blink. Oh bloody hell. Did someone seriously come as the Sheriff of Nottingham?!
She did indeed wholeheartedly believe that Clara was the apple of Robin’s eye. There would be no fleeing without her. Buffy as Robin would be at Clara’s beck and call. Already utterly enamored by the proper sight of her, she’d swear loyalty to her a thousand times over! Once the spell was broken, Buffy would hide her head in the sand and pretend she didn’t exist for a solid week.
Until then, there was a quarrel very, very nigh.
“I have no…” Before she could reassure Clara that she believed in her capability, she heard that voice. Half-turning to greet the man who tired over them both, Buffy squared her shoulders defiantly and insinuated herself between the poor soul dressed like Robin’s veritable arch nemesis.
“Stay back, my lady,” she said over her shoulder. “I will handle this man!” Pointing at the costumed Sheriff, Buffy looked as though she would unflinchingly stand her ground. “I see no peasants among us for you to rob blind, Sheriff.”
“It is not robbery if they are to pay their taxes, swine.”
Ohhh boy. Clara could only watch in mild mortification at the slow (soon to be fast she imagined) escalation within the club.
“Lady Marian, please step back and let me handle this.”
There was a familiar glint there in his eye and Clara had a very good idea on where this was going to go, “And then we can away with us to the church.”
And there it was, as the ‘Sheriff’ drew his sword.
“Woah woah woah…” Jumping between the two, Clara quickly scanned the area.
“If you’re going to duel, let’s take it outside and away from the people.”
“Away to the church?” Buffy gasped, visibly appalled. That wasn’t going to set well with the now-female savior of Sherwood forest! Someone as immaculate as Maid Marian couldn’t marry the Sheriff! Perish the thought.
Adding to the look of disbelief on her face, Clara went and wedged herself between them. Buffy reached back for her bow only to find she came bearing no arms. Not even a blade. It was a tremendous setback, but she remained otherwise undeterred.
“Nay, let them bear witness!” She exclaimed boldly over the blaring music, though it fell largely on deaf ears for the volume was much too loud. “I will fight for your honor, Marian! You do not want to marry this farce, do you?”
The good thing was that the ‘Sheriff’s’ sword was plastic and wouldn’t actually cause any damage. (Thank goodness for small favours.) Not that Buffy had any arrows. Oh lord. Clara was definitely beginning to get a headache. Especially at the comment of letting the people there bear witness. Honestly, she was going to respond to that when the comment about her honour came up.
“I can defend my own honour, thank you very much.”
Friend thinking she was Robin Hood or not, Clara was still stubborn and would do her own defending. Not that she had much in ways of a weapon.
A spoon. She had a spoon. The irony most certainly was not lost on her.
“I wouldn’t dream of letting a maiden so fair tarnish her hands with dueling.”
And eyeroll.
“Yeah yeah, tarnish. Fair. Outside.”
Clara had this all under control…. she hoped.
“As you wish,” Buffy conceded, not without a glower sent the Sheriff’s way. Just because she wanted to swoop in and play the hero didn’t mean she could force it upon anyone. If Marian wanted to hold her own, then she would grin and bear it--to a fault. Should the tables be turned on her beloved, heads would roll!
Stomping out of the noisy establishment, Buffy breathed in the cool night air appreciatively. The Sheriff was hot on their heels, no less, and so she made sure to lean back against the doors to temporarily obstruct an exit from her nemesis.
“My lady, perhaps there is another way in which we can escape this brute’s scorn?” She questioned, hoping to avoid a battle for the sake of Marian. The banging at the door had already begun, but she found herself oddly capable of holding her ground rather effortlessly. Strange.
Good, at least she wasn’t about to be challenged on that fact. And they were actually heading out of the club. Because spoon and plastic sword or not, that would be very complicated to work around. Not to mention the variety of costumed people inside who might be thinking they were someone else as well.
Outside, Clara was relieved for the air just because everything was fairly stuffy inside the club. Typical of a club, but having a bit of breathing room was nice. Especially when trying to outrun the Sheriff of Nottingham who wanted to make you his bride. It wasn’t like Clara really wanted to have to fight him off, but given her own experiences with the man… That probably wasn’t going to go well.
She could always outwit him. Or try and then rely on the spoon.
“I think he’d just chase us to the ends of the earth if we ran. It’s better to face him now I would imagine.”
Really. She had it all under control… If she kept repeating that to herself, she might even believe it.
The strange logic coming from her beloved maiden was baffling. She stared at Clara as though she had three heads. Where was the harm in running? She had made plenty a clean getaway, outwitted the Sheriff time and time again, now didn’t have to be any different. Still, she couldn’t deny Marian what she wanted.
So, Buffy as a fair Robin Hood stood aside from the door and waited for the Sheriff to come bursting out. Burst he did, nostrils flaring and veins protruding. Buffy lacked any weapons with which to defend her, but that wouldn’t stop her. Arms folded over her chest, she looked her greatest foe up and down, mouth all a smirk.
“I believe our fair Marian has something to say to you, O Sheriff of Nottingham.”
Call it experience. Not that Clara really could explain that in the current situation. But as a rule, people who wanted someone tended to chase them, and she had to hope that the ‘Sheriff’ would have enough honour to accept the terms of the deal. Of course, it was the sheriff so she wasn’t exactly holding her breath on that fact either.
Once the determined Sheriff showed up, Clara nodded to Buffy then looked to him.
“I am defending my own honour and own choice to marriage. If I win, you are to leave myself and these people alone. Are these terms agreeable?”
“And if I win?”
“I suppose I will have to marry you.”
Not that it would actually hold. And she also had a feeling her chances were exceptionally good at besting the Sheriff with his plastic sword. Terms agreed upon, Clara pulled out the spoon she had and the fight began and much like she had seen the Doctor, then Robin, do, Clara used what seemed her loss to an advantage, the Sheriff knocked into a trash bin and sword to the ground.
Wincing because she knew this wouldn’t end well, Clara did the most logical thing ever. She grabbed Buffy’s hand with a look.
“Run.” And they were off while the Sheriff pulled himself together.