Introductions are intro-y. (SOMEONE RP WITH MEEEE!!!)
Oswin closed her eyes and waited patiently, calmly for her destruction. It didn't matter that her eyes weren't real, the asymmetrical neckline of her red crew dress wasn't real, the chair she sat in wasn't real nor was the keyboard balanced precariously on the arm of said chair under her manicured left hand. Her hands weren't even real. Oswin didn't have hands anymore.
She dreamed it all for herself because the truth was too terrible. Knowing the truth now didn't matter. She still preferred the dream. She still preferred to think of herself as someone with legs and long brown hair, even if she was tired of wearing the same little red dress and matching sneakers.
It all felt real, right down to the cowlick that liked to form along the hairline.
All she wanted was to be remembered for the girl that she was.
Her moment of selfless sacrifice was interrupted by the loud, angry honk of a car. Oswin jumped in her seat (it didn’t matter anymore at that moment that the chair wasn’t real), startled now by a chorus of honking cars.
When Oswin opened her eyes -- or eye, as it were -- to see she was no longer in the sterile white room of the asylum, but an open city street. Her ship -- because Oswin couldn’t bring herself to think of it as a body -- was parked in the middle of a busy intersection.
Traffic started to build up.
”Oh Chin Boy, this was you, wasn’t it? Where have you put me now, you clever boy...” In her mind’s eye she’d been talking, but they were really just thoughts.
Her real voice wasn't heard until moments later: "SORRY! SORRY!"
A few cars started to go around the dalek, which looked perilously close to her single walleyed eyestalk.
"OI! WATCH THE HARDWARE!" Oswin frowned. First day of freedom and she was spending it stuck in traffic. Brilliant.