The stories of pain, loss, love, hope and really, really bad jokes.
Yellow everyone and welcome to my December writing challenge. It is where I, for one month, put all my other writing on hold and try to write about a thousand words, everyday, for a...
A/n: so this is from a chapter in my Superwholock book I'm writing...so the first part is copy and pasted (thats why its so long) and also why it might not make sense. The second half is me. I'll get two chapter out tomorrow to make up for being late and yeah. Also these are the HISTORICAL versions of these charcters so yeah...thats why there is no cast.
Summary: Sam, Dean, Cas, Ace, Jack and Mary enter a bar where the TARDIS's have sensed weeping angel spawn. Ace mentions in passing about how she came to a similar bar in a similar location with some old friends who never knew her true identity. After a few drinks Ace lets the ball drop and recounts her tales. Then they're attacked. And a surprise that changes everything is awaiting Ace. THE FULL CHAPTER CAN BE READ IN THE SUPERWHOLOCK BOOK SOON I PROMISE
Song: bad liar, imagine dragons.
ACE'S POV, two hundred and fourth two years ago, age 74, physically 17
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"C'mon love?" I beg the TARDIS. She groans. I sigh and check the moniter. "Seventeen seventy six, New York City." I sing the words. I bite my tongue a few times and run through my voice till I no longer have a modern day english accent and more of a slight welsh accent more akin to the BC but hey, what can ya do. I run into my giant wardrobe and find a plain white blouse, brown pants, ocre vest and a brown belt. "Hello..." I think of a name. "Peter Malachi Parker." I say, lowering my voice. I grab my long ginger hair and cut it to my shoulders. "There...Peter...I don't like it." I chuckle again. I tuck my hair under a brown cap, letting a few shorter curls of ginger fall out. I know it was common for rich folks to powder their hair or wear wigs. But with the way I'm dressed, I could barely pass as not a fishers boy. I sigh and snap my fingers, compressing my breasts with a binder, giving me a near flat chest. I nod and take one last glance in the mirror. "You know what. Edward Malachi Parker." I smile and turn on my heel. "Fuck! I'm barefoot!"
~o0O0o~
I wander into town, trying to avoid stares. It's already sunset and women and men are heading to their houses. I hide behind a building and pick up some small quartz stones laying on the ground. I snap my fingers and they become small gold coins, speeding up what they would end up becoming. I shuffle back out and walk to a bar. I subtly get in and place two coins on the counter, pointing when the bar tender comes, for some beer.
"I'm gonna need more lad." He says. I roll my eyes and put three more coins on the table. He raises an eyebrow. I put five more coins on the table.
"Keep the change." I mumble. He places the mug down and I take a chug. I turn around and just sit, taking in my surrounds for half an hour or so. Eventually I hear a commotion and turn my head. Three men are on a table yelling to two other guys. I roll my eyes and comment in my head about how they should shut up. The taller leaves and makes his way over to me, sitting down. He's young, olive skin, dark brown hair and eyes. He sits down beside me. "You ok man?" I ask, trying to keep my voice deep.
