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eve11I wrote 1200 words! Not of the WIP-o-Doom. This is a snippet of a story from an anonymous prompt "OFC and a magical avocado that makes them a companion"--that came out at about the same time ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clocketpatch was set to return to North America and was lamenting leaving giant avocados behind in the South Pacific.
She maintains that she was not, in fact, the prompter of said prompt.
But anyhow, it planted an idea. I wrote a beginning a while back, and another snippet just tonight. I don't know what to call it yet. "The Green Death" is already taken. It is unbetaed, only hastily researched, and hopefully not culturally egregious so far (if anybody with firsthand experience of PNG wants to help me out, let me know!).
**
It was a day off from school, and CeeCee Tagobe was running errands. After rent, water and other staples were paid for, she had 250 Toea burning a hole in the pocket of her cutoff shorts this fine, steamy afternoon. So naturally, being as she was already in the neighborhood of the Koni market, she went straight to Mr. Joseph's produce cart.
"Good afternoon!" she said to him brightly as she approached. And he usually smiled back and complimented her courtesy and extolled the virtues of his wares, but today he must have been taken by some worry or another, because he hardly gave a shrug in her direction. He merely swept a hand to indicate the day's crates, and stayed sat on his stool staring out toward the distant hills.
Well, CeeCee was too polite to ask after his privacies. It was likely family and not crops; the produce was excellent as always. She selected three of the biggest, ripest avocados in the pile labeled for 80 apiece and tucked them into her cloth shopping bag. Mr. Joseph grunted noncommittally as she handed him the cash. But when her hand brushed his, he suddenly tensed up and held fast to her wrist.
Startled, CeeCee let out a yelp of surprise, swallowed up by the sound of trucks rattling down the street. Mr. Joseph relaxed his hold and blinked as if waking up, then squinted at her and said, "Child, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" CeeCee asked, still shaken and annoyed. There was no call for invading her personal space, and at fifteen she was hardly a child, honestly! But Mr. Joseph seemed truly vexed, a tinge even of fear shadowing his sun-weathered face. CeeCee looked around the street and saw nothing unusual: carts, pedestrians, window shoppers across the street--and a strangely dressed man on the corner waving his hands about willy-nilly, but tourists came in all shapes and sizes, and hardly any of them knew how to properly flag down a Port Moresby taxi. "I just heard the trucks go by," she added, and carefully ventured, "Is something wrong?"
Mr. Joseph shook his head and followed her eyes. He frowned deeply at the tourist, dropped CeeCee's hand, stuffed the cash into his pocket and hopped down off of his stool. "Nothing at all," he said, not bothering to look at her as he hastily hefted crates back onto his cart. He tossed the stool up after them and released the handbrake.
"Have a good afternoon," he told her, his smile back to form and just the slightest bit eerie in context, and then he pushed off quickly away from the Koni market toward some meandering side streets.
What an odd exchange flashed briefly through CeeCee's mind, but then again, just because someone smiled at you day after day hardly meant you knew them well enough to judge. So the incident was soon off her mind as she walked happily down the street with her purchases.
Behind her, the tourist in the bow tie and tweed had moved from waving his arms about to flagging down locals, and, judging from the looks on their faces, speaking incomprehensibly at them. It was almost enough to make a bit of a scene, but CeeCee didn't take notice. And if any of the other shoppers in the crowded market noticed the strange green glow that pulsed out momentarily from the bottom of CeeCee's bag, they chalked it up to the latest fashion craze hitting the schools. After all, there was no accounting for teenaged girls and their fads.
**
It was the hottest part of the day, and CeeCee's bag was feeling very heavy. She had every intention of sharing the avocados with her brothers back home, of course. And mum had already made it clear that errands were a duty and were not to be recompensed by indulging any of the money entrusted to CeeCee on treats for herself, however small. But the sun was hitting her especially hard today for some reason, and the dust kicking up from her sandaled feet seemed to be reaching all the way up to her throat and parching her.
She really loved avocados. They were so juicy and sweet, and as the sun baked the braids on the top of her head, it near seemed that the avocados in her bag were simply calling to her. They were big--they were doozies, those three; two of them could easily cost 240 Toea if she'd not bothered to seek out Mr. Joseph's cart. Her mum wouldn't miss one; her brothers would be so happy to have her slice up just the two and serve them with lemons and a sprinkle of salt. Dear God, she was thirsty, and she still had over a mile's walk back to the family's small flat.
CeeCee's feet dragged, and her whole mind was taken up by the vision of the rough green-mottled orb of that damnable fruit dragging at the straps on her shoulder. She didn't even want to eat it, she told herself as she staggered across the street over to the trunk of a big tree. She sat down heavily in the shade, her vision blurring as she set down her bag. She just wanted to take it out and look at it. That was all. Maybe test it for ripeness, she thought, digging her penknife out of her back pocket and 'snick'-ing it open. Then she attacked the bag and pulled out the biggest, roundest of the fruit from where it lay on the bottom. Why was it so heavy?
Open it, open it, open it sang through her mind.
A breeze tickled her sweat-soaked skin and for a split second, CeeCee blinked back to awareness, noticing as if for the first time, her penknife poised at the skin of this irresistible, delectable avocado. What in God's name was she doing, she thought. She should be walking home! She should--
Open it, open it . . .
She pressed her knife into the avocado's skin--ready, so ready to dig into the creamy goodness she knew was underneath. All she had to do was press--
"No no no no!" A panicked foreign-sounding voice cut through the muddled fog in her brain.
The avocado hurtled out of her hands, and CeeCee screamed and stabbed her knife down onto the booted foot that (for the second time in the span of an hour) had suddenly and very impolitely encroached on her personal space.
"OW!" Her assailant roared in pain, and CeeCee took the opportunity to shove the foot away from her, toppling him to the ground.
"Rascals! Hoodlums!" she shrieked, scrambling away from the base of the tree. "You'll get what's coming!" She kicked at the prone form, trying to separate him from her shopping bag so she could grab it and do what any smart teen-ager in Port Moresby did when confronted by thieves: run toward large crowds. CeeCee could hold her own in a fight, she figured. It was a better bet the fewer times she had to test it.
"No! Ah, ow! Wait, wait--waaaaow!" The thief managed to prop himself up against the tree, snatching at CeeCee's bag and trying to stand up and make a run for it, until CeeCee kicked his good leg and he had to stagger onto the foot she'd stabbed. But he didn't drop the bag, just held on to it when he fell face-first to the ground with a muffled "Mmmf"
"Give me back my bag!" CeeCee said, still too rattled to swipe it from him.
He sat up, spitting dirt, and CeeCee finally got a good look at him. He wasn't the usual Port Moresby rascal. For starters, he was wearing clunky boots instead of the usual sand shoes, and his clothes looked oppressively hot. Second, he was pasty white under the layer of grime that had dusted him over; not even bronzed from the sun. He had floppy hair and a chin that wouldn't be out of place in her brothers' superhero comic books. He looked like a tourist. No, CeeCee decided, studying his jacket and his matching bow tie and braces. Not a tourist. A linguist. He looked like another in the mold of clueless academics who'd come to study Papua New Guinea's Pidgin without knowing how to flag down a Port Moresby--
"Taxi!" she said, remembering. She figured he'd been trying to hail a taxi, but he must have been working on some kind of study instead. "I saw you at the market, bothering all sorts of people. I'll call the police!"
The stranger gave a rubber-faced grimace, looked up at CeeCee with her fists in the air, and gave what might have been the most incongruously disarming smile that she had ever seen in her life.
"Hello!" he said. "Got off on the wrong foot and all that. I'm the Doctor, and I'm sorry but can't give you back your bag. Also, I need to collect that," he pointed out toward the street, where the avocado he'd kicked out of CeeCee's grasp had rolled into a pothole, "before it--"
"Give it!" Condescending professors! Not an ounce of sense in them! Of course, he'd pointed with the same hand clutching CeeCee's bag, so she snatched it out of his fingers and set off running.
She didn't get far, no farther than the pothole and the avocado nestled inside it. She wasn't sure why, and she wasn't sure how. She just ended up there, staring down at it. It was covered in dirt and mud, rotting in the bright sun, bruised and seeping and ruined. She couldn't take her eyes off of it. Her heart started to beat fast. She wanted to run away but she couldn't. She couldn't leave that avocado. All she needed to do was pick it up, slice it open, and she knew it would be perfect inside, juicy and delicious and--
"Spawns!" A hand grabbed her wrist and CeeCee snapped out of her daze to see the stranger staring down at her.
"Before it spawns," he said. His fingers were like a metal vise. He looked young on the outside, but his eyes were dark and ancient in that strange face. For the first time, CeeCee was truly frightened. She must've looked like she was ready to bolt because the stranger let go of her abruptly and pushed her away from the pothole, the gravity of his gaze already dissipating.
"No, no, no. No more kicking, thank you very much." He settled down on his haunches, hobbled by one foot that surely was bleeding inside that boot where CeeCee had stabbed him, and quickly gathered up the avocado into CeeCee's bag, which he had somehow reacquired. CeeCee's fear fled, to be replaced by a pang of annoyance. She folded her hands across her chest and frowned while the Professor--no, sorry, the Doctor of Lord-knew-what--kept talking.
"Just wait over there for a moment. Dangerous flora, that pod. They travel through space in pairs, you know. When they land, they look for symbiotic hosts of any kind of animal matter, for physical and psychic links. I've never seen one so adamant on forming full psychic links before initiating the physical symbiosis, though. Lucky for you!" He brushed the dust off his knees and stood up, gimping on his lame foot and furrowing his brow at her. "It wasn't so keen on stabbing people as you were. Where did you get it?"
CeeCee narrowed her eyes at him, staring stubbornly at her bag and refusing to admit how much of his fancy talk had gone right over her head. "Get what?" she asked.
"Don't be intentionally thick," the Doctor said. "The pod. Where did you get the pod?"
"What pod?" she sneered and shook a fist. "Why are you so interested in my avocados?"
"Avo--" He looked again at the bag in his hands and trailed off, affronted, before blustering up to CeeCee. "Honestly, what kind of human mistakes an alien seed pod for an avocado?" he asked.
In response, CeeCee snatched her bag from him again and upended it. Three round shapes plunked to the ground amid her toiletries and the penknife the stranger had also apparently removed from his boot and stowed. She picked up the knife and one of the smaller fruits as the Doctor's eyes widened. "No, don't, it's a--" he started.
With a practiced flick of her wrist, CeeCee carved out a wedge. "Avocado, Professor smarty pants!" she said, offering him the evidence.
He blinked and stared. "Blimey," he said. "It really is. It's--it's the size of a football." He shook his head. "Every time you think you've seen everything--oh! Not that one, though. Don't touch that one."
It was CeeCee's turn to stare, now. The avocado--the one that had started this whole mess, that even now was inviting her mind to pick it up and run--was glowing a pulsing bright green.
"Yeah, and what's yours then?" she asked, backing away cautiously.
"A Krynoid pod," he answered. He swept them both back out of the way as the ersatz avocado suddenly flung out a whip-like tentacle a meter long, aiming for CeeCee's chest. She bit back a scream while the Doctor danced them out of the way of a second tentacle.
"Krynoids, definitely!" He was smiling like a lunatic again. "Oh, that takes me back! I thought it was some kind of aggressive vegetation, but now I'm quite sure. I haven't run across Krynoids in ages, not since--" CeeCee shrieked again and he paused, staring up at the sky as if realizing something for the first time.
"Hm. We . . . should get it out of the sun," he said slowly.
The pod struck again. He ducked and scooped CeeCee's knife off of the ground where she had dropped it. In one surprisingly graceful move, he had caught the flailing tentacles (five altogether now), raveled them up like a ball of twine around the green glowing lump, and shoved the struggling fruit back into CeeCee's shopping bag. He tied the cloth straps together tightly and twirled the bag in a loop, before turning to her and offering a handshake.
"I didn't catch your name," he said, not stopping long enough for CeeCee to answer, and already scanning the empty streets around them. "Where did you say you got that pod?"
**
clocketpatch was set to return to North America and was lamenting leaving giant avocados behind in the South Pacific.She maintains that she was not, in fact, the prompter of said prompt.
But anyhow, it planted an idea. I wrote a beginning a while back, and another snippet just tonight. I don't know what to call it yet. "The Green Death" is already taken. It is unbetaed, only hastily researched, and hopefully not culturally egregious so far (if anybody with firsthand experience of PNG wants to help me out, let me know!).
**
It was a day off from school, and CeeCee Tagobe was running errands. After rent, water and other staples were paid for, she had 250 Toea burning a hole in the pocket of her cutoff shorts this fine, steamy afternoon. So naturally, being as she was already in the neighborhood of the Koni market, she went straight to Mr. Joseph's produce cart.
"Good afternoon!" she said to him brightly as she approached. And he usually smiled back and complimented her courtesy and extolled the virtues of his wares, but today he must have been taken by some worry or another, because he hardly gave a shrug in her direction. He merely swept a hand to indicate the day's crates, and stayed sat on his stool staring out toward the distant hills.
Well, CeeCee was too polite to ask after his privacies. It was likely family and not crops; the produce was excellent as always. She selected three of the biggest, ripest avocados in the pile labeled for 80 apiece and tucked them into her cloth shopping bag. Mr. Joseph grunted noncommittally as she handed him the cash. But when her hand brushed his, he suddenly tensed up and held fast to her wrist.
Startled, CeeCee let out a yelp of surprise, swallowed up by the sound of trucks rattling down the street. Mr. Joseph relaxed his hold and blinked as if waking up, then squinted at her and said, "Child, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" CeeCee asked, still shaken and annoyed. There was no call for invading her personal space, and at fifteen she was hardly a child, honestly! But Mr. Joseph seemed truly vexed, a tinge even of fear shadowing his sun-weathered face. CeeCee looked around the street and saw nothing unusual: carts, pedestrians, window shoppers across the street--and a strangely dressed man on the corner waving his hands about willy-nilly, but tourists came in all shapes and sizes, and hardly any of them knew how to properly flag down a Port Moresby taxi. "I just heard the trucks go by," she added, and carefully ventured, "Is something wrong?"
Mr. Joseph shook his head and followed her eyes. He frowned deeply at the tourist, dropped CeeCee's hand, stuffed the cash into his pocket and hopped down off of his stool. "Nothing at all," he said, not bothering to look at her as he hastily hefted crates back onto his cart. He tossed the stool up after them and released the handbrake.
"Have a good afternoon," he told her, his smile back to form and just the slightest bit eerie in context, and then he pushed off quickly away from the Koni market toward some meandering side streets.
What an odd exchange flashed briefly through CeeCee's mind, but then again, just because someone smiled at you day after day hardly meant you knew them well enough to judge. So the incident was soon off her mind as she walked happily down the street with her purchases.
Behind her, the tourist in the bow tie and tweed had moved from waving his arms about to flagging down locals, and, judging from the looks on their faces, speaking incomprehensibly at them. It was almost enough to make a bit of a scene, but CeeCee didn't take notice. And if any of the other shoppers in the crowded market noticed the strange green glow that pulsed out momentarily from the bottom of CeeCee's bag, they chalked it up to the latest fashion craze hitting the schools. After all, there was no accounting for teenaged girls and their fads.
**
It was the hottest part of the day, and CeeCee's bag was feeling very heavy. She had every intention of sharing the avocados with her brothers back home, of course. And mum had already made it clear that errands were a duty and were not to be recompensed by indulging any of the money entrusted to CeeCee on treats for herself, however small. But the sun was hitting her especially hard today for some reason, and the dust kicking up from her sandaled feet seemed to be reaching all the way up to her throat and parching her.
She really loved avocados. They were so juicy and sweet, and as the sun baked the braids on the top of her head, it near seemed that the avocados in her bag were simply calling to her. They were big--they were doozies, those three; two of them could easily cost 240 Toea if she'd not bothered to seek out Mr. Joseph's cart. Her mum wouldn't miss one; her brothers would be so happy to have her slice up just the two and serve them with lemons and a sprinkle of salt. Dear God, she was thirsty, and she still had over a mile's walk back to the family's small flat.
CeeCee's feet dragged, and her whole mind was taken up by the vision of the rough green-mottled orb of that damnable fruit dragging at the straps on her shoulder. She didn't even want to eat it, she told herself as she staggered across the street over to the trunk of a big tree. She sat down heavily in the shade, her vision blurring as she set down her bag. She just wanted to take it out and look at it. That was all. Maybe test it for ripeness, she thought, digging her penknife out of her back pocket and 'snick'-ing it open. Then she attacked the bag and pulled out the biggest, roundest of the fruit from where it lay on the bottom. Why was it so heavy?
Open it, open it, open it sang through her mind.
A breeze tickled her sweat-soaked skin and for a split second, CeeCee blinked back to awareness, noticing as if for the first time, her penknife poised at the skin of this irresistible, delectable avocado. What in God's name was she doing, she thought. She should be walking home! She should--
Open it, open it . . .
She pressed her knife into the avocado's skin--ready, so ready to dig into the creamy goodness she knew was underneath. All she had to do was press--
"No no no no!" A panicked foreign-sounding voice cut through the muddled fog in her brain.
The avocado hurtled out of her hands, and CeeCee screamed and stabbed her knife down onto the booted foot that (for the second time in the span of an hour) had suddenly and very impolitely encroached on her personal space.
"OW!" Her assailant roared in pain, and CeeCee took the opportunity to shove the foot away from her, toppling him to the ground.
"Rascals! Hoodlums!" she shrieked, scrambling away from the base of the tree. "You'll get what's coming!" She kicked at the prone form, trying to separate him from her shopping bag so she could grab it and do what any smart teen-ager in Port Moresby did when confronted by thieves: run toward large crowds. CeeCee could hold her own in a fight, she figured. It was a better bet the fewer times she had to test it.
"No! Ah, ow! Wait, wait--waaaaow!" The thief managed to prop himself up against the tree, snatching at CeeCee's bag and trying to stand up and make a run for it, until CeeCee kicked his good leg and he had to stagger onto the foot she'd stabbed. But he didn't drop the bag, just held on to it when he fell face-first to the ground with a muffled "Mmmf"
"Give me back my bag!" CeeCee said, still too rattled to swipe it from him.
He sat up, spitting dirt, and CeeCee finally got a good look at him. He wasn't the usual Port Moresby rascal. For starters, he was wearing clunky boots instead of the usual sand shoes, and his clothes looked oppressively hot. Second, he was pasty white under the layer of grime that had dusted him over; not even bronzed from the sun. He had floppy hair and a chin that wouldn't be out of place in her brothers' superhero comic books. He looked like a tourist. No, CeeCee decided, studying his jacket and his matching bow tie and braces. Not a tourist. A linguist. He looked like another in the mold of clueless academics who'd come to study Papua New Guinea's Pidgin without knowing how to flag down a Port Moresby--
"Taxi!" she said, remembering. She figured he'd been trying to hail a taxi, but he must have been working on some kind of study instead. "I saw you at the market, bothering all sorts of people. I'll call the police!"
The stranger gave a rubber-faced grimace, looked up at CeeCee with her fists in the air, and gave what might have been the most incongruously disarming smile that she had ever seen in her life.
"Hello!" he said. "Got off on the wrong foot and all that. I'm the Doctor, and I'm sorry but can't give you back your bag. Also, I need to collect that," he pointed out toward the street, where the avocado he'd kicked out of CeeCee's grasp had rolled into a pothole, "before it--"
"Give it!" Condescending professors! Not an ounce of sense in them! Of course, he'd pointed with the same hand clutching CeeCee's bag, so she snatched it out of his fingers and set off running.
She didn't get far, no farther than the pothole and the avocado nestled inside it. She wasn't sure why, and she wasn't sure how. She just ended up there, staring down at it. It was covered in dirt and mud, rotting in the bright sun, bruised and seeping and ruined. She couldn't take her eyes off of it. Her heart started to beat fast. She wanted to run away but she couldn't. She couldn't leave that avocado. All she needed to do was pick it up, slice it open, and she knew it would be perfect inside, juicy and delicious and--
"Spawns!" A hand grabbed her wrist and CeeCee snapped out of her daze to see the stranger staring down at her.
"Before it spawns," he said. His fingers were like a metal vise. He looked young on the outside, but his eyes were dark and ancient in that strange face. For the first time, CeeCee was truly frightened. She must've looked like she was ready to bolt because the stranger let go of her abruptly and pushed her away from the pothole, the gravity of his gaze already dissipating.
"No, no, no. No more kicking, thank you very much." He settled down on his haunches, hobbled by one foot that surely was bleeding inside that boot where CeeCee had stabbed him, and quickly gathered up the avocado into CeeCee's bag, which he had somehow reacquired. CeeCee's fear fled, to be replaced by a pang of annoyance. She folded her hands across her chest and frowned while the Professor--no, sorry, the Doctor of Lord-knew-what--kept talking.
"Just wait over there for a moment. Dangerous flora, that pod. They travel through space in pairs, you know. When they land, they look for symbiotic hosts of any kind of animal matter, for physical and psychic links. I've never seen one so adamant on forming full psychic links before initiating the physical symbiosis, though. Lucky for you!" He brushed the dust off his knees and stood up, gimping on his lame foot and furrowing his brow at her. "It wasn't so keen on stabbing people as you were. Where did you get it?"
CeeCee narrowed her eyes at him, staring stubbornly at her bag and refusing to admit how much of his fancy talk had gone right over her head. "Get what?" she asked.
"Don't be intentionally thick," the Doctor said. "The pod. Where did you get the pod?"
"What pod?" she sneered and shook a fist. "Why are you so interested in my avocados?"
"Avo--" He looked again at the bag in his hands and trailed off, affronted, before blustering up to CeeCee. "Honestly, what kind of human mistakes an alien seed pod for an avocado?" he asked.
In response, CeeCee snatched her bag from him again and upended it. Three round shapes plunked to the ground amid her toiletries and the penknife the stranger had also apparently removed from his boot and stowed. She picked up the knife and one of the smaller fruits as the Doctor's eyes widened. "No, don't, it's a--" he started.
With a practiced flick of her wrist, CeeCee carved out a wedge. "Avocado, Professor smarty pants!" she said, offering him the evidence.
He blinked and stared. "Blimey," he said. "It really is. It's--it's the size of a football." He shook his head. "Every time you think you've seen everything--oh! Not that one, though. Don't touch that one."
It was CeeCee's turn to stare, now. The avocado--the one that had started this whole mess, that even now was inviting her mind to pick it up and run--was glowing a pulsing bright green.
"Yeah, and what's yours then?" she asked, backing away cautiously.
"A Krynoid pod," he answered. He swept them both back out of the way as the ersatz avocado suddenly flung out a whip-like tentacle a meter long, aiming for CeeCee's chest. She bit back a scream while the Doctor danced them out of the way of a second tentacle.
"Krynoids, definitely!" He was smiling like a lunatic again. "Oh, that takes me back! I thought it was some kind of aggressive vegetation, but now I'm quite sure. I haven't run across Krynoids in ages, not since--" CeeCee shrieked again and he paused, staring up at the sky as if realizing something for the first time.
"Hm. We . . . should get it out of the sun," he said slowly.
The pod struck again. He ducked and scooped CeeCee's knife off of the ground where she had dropped it. In one surprisingly graceful move, he had caught the flailing tentacles (five altogether now), raveled them up like a ball of twine around the green glowing lump, and shoved the struggling fruit back into CeeCee's shopping bag. He tied the cloth straps together tightly and twirled the bag in a loop, before turning to her and offering a handshake.
"I didn't catch your name," he said, not stopping long enough for CeeCee to answer, and already scanning the empty streets around them. "Where did you say you got that pod?"
**
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2012-11-30 06:30 am (UTC)Sorry, sorry *ahem* I'll go read now...
*Slinks off*
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Date: 2012-11-30 06:40 am (UTC)*Grins*
MARVIE.
And with those pods from the Sixth Doctor's era, yes?
*BEAMS*
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Date: 2012-12-01 02:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-01 05:12 am (UTC)Every time I think 'Seed of Doom' I think of those big green pods that the Sixth comes across where he first meets Mels. I always forget about the Fourth's ACTUAL episode, lol!!
*HUGS*
Still...WANT!! GIMMEH.
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Date: 2012-12-01 04:52 pm (UTC)Ha, I know you meant Mel but now I'm thinking "what if Mels met Six"? Oh my. That would be an interesting clash.
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Date: 2012-12-01 05:08 pm (UTC)The comment(s) above is further proof that I should not reply when half dead in the brain.
*HEADDESK*
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Date: 2012-11-30 09:38 am (UTC)(And I suppose you could call it The Other Green Death...)
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Date: 2012-12-01 02:46 am (UTC)Heh, how about "The Greens of Doom"
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Date: 2012-12-01 09:22 am (UTC):-D
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Date: 2012-11-30 07:52 pm (UTC)This is really funny, and the hypnotic avocado is so ridiculously Doctor Who. And the Doctor totally needs a companion like that, because, let's face it, he totally thinks of himself as Professor smarty pants and needs to be called on it. :P
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Date: 2012-12-01 02:48 am (UTC)Maybe I'll go watch Timelash again :D
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Date: 2012-12-01 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-02 06:12 pm (UTC)I got a bag of them last week, but North American avocados are just so tiny and sad. D: (And I swear, this prompt really wasn't me, but I wish it was)
Also, the fic is awesome and I love CeeCee and I love her labelling Eleven as a linguist. And I love... well, everything. All of it. This.
Thanks for sharing. :D
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Date: 2012-12-02 09:53 pm (UTC)D's cousins run a Mexican restaurant here and because they order so many avocados they can get batches of the good ones.