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You or Me?

Post by Guest on Mon Aug 26, 2013 4:58 pm

You, Or Me?
Written By White Crow
A Winter Fanfiction

Plot Summery: During the time when Winter lived with Scotty Boy, yet before the time Captain Jack Harkness created Winter her own branch of Torchwood. Winter passes an object she desires on the street, and takes up a hellish job for 8 days in order to gain enough money to purchase it.

Day One, Winter The Ambitious
Day Two, Winter The Barbarian
Day Three, Winter The Stubborn
Day Four, Winter The Defender
Day Five, Winter The Married Woman
Day Six, Winter The Silent
Day Seven, Winter The Maid
The Final Day, Winter The FutureKind

The Poll is for your feedback on the story so far, I'd love it if you'd vote so I can know your general reaction to my story!

Last edited by Winter Mills on Mon Aug 26, 2013 6:32 pm; edited 1 time in total


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Re: You or Me?

Post by Guest on Mon Aug 26, 2013 6:29 pm

Day One
Winter The Ambitious

Winter had been invited to stay with Remington Scott. After the first few weeks, Winter had run out of money entirely. Winter had felt it neccessary to pay him rent, though the beginning fee she paid was about 200 hundred dollars her 'rent' had decreased as her money had. In the end, she was broke and didn't have the slightest idea on how to gain more cash. He had insisted that she didn't need to pay rent, but Winter would pull her own weight. As much as she possibly could, besides... Winter thought, walking down the crowded street beside a simple little shop with a wide window display. He had been kind, giving her gifts to decorate her room.

He had not the slightest clue what sort of thing Winter liked, or even desired. She was unlike any other woman, she had no interest in jewlery or clothing. She had all the weapons and alcohol she could ever desire or require in her lifetimes. Her pockets were far bigger on the inside, thus she could store as much as she wanted without any penalties. An anti-gravity sphere kept her pockets light, so she could carry whatever she wanted at all times.

The sun glared in one of the window panes, catching Winter's attention. Sheilding her eyes, Winter turned towards the shop stopping in her tracks, the crowd pushed at her as they passed in annoyance. In the display was a black motorcycle with skull details. The entire frame work looked as though it was made of stretched bones, and the mechanics looked as black as night. The handle bars were jutted out sharply, giving the illusion of broken collar bones. The bones stretched throughout the entire frame, combining the black with the bone white decorations. With a powerful motor, and a skull on the front red lights shined through the eye sockets. It was a fearsome sight indeed.

Winter desired it. Svetlana had taken her keys to her sports car, claiming that her shortcuts were 'dangerous'. Winter desired the motorcycle very much. She could already see herself speeding down a road or a highway on it, it seemed just her style and perfect for her. Winter desired it so very much. Taking a look at the price tag, Winter sighed. She could never afford that price... Though.. Winter paused, still standing between the glass and a swarming crowd. She could get a job.. Get some money, purchase the motorcycle and quit. But, how long would that take?

Winter arrived at a little cafe, with a help wanted sign in the window and a half lit sign hanging above the doorway. The cafe was wooden, and small... It had many windows that showed into the interior, it was jam packed with people and tables to the point that it looked impossible to navigate. Leaning, she peered into one of the wide windows to see a rather dramactic scene occur. A waiter, threw down her apron on a customer's table, turned and shouted wildly at a man. Probably her boss, spun around and stalked out of the resteraunt. Pushing past Winter on her way out. Winter raised an eyebrow, what had set her off? Ah, well. It will not deter me. Winter decided, I want that bike, and nothing will stand in my way. Winter walked into the cafe, picking up the apron as she walked up to the counter. It was short, and wooden and required much cleaning. The bearded man behind it grinned after looking at Winter, his beer belly falling over the counter sickeningly.

"I am here for your job, that" Winter held up the apron. "Just opened up."

"You'll have to be interveiwed." He said, his voice smelling of tobacco.

"Follow me." He opened a part of the counter, leading her into a back room. Winter followed, but with a hand on her sword. She wasn't dumb, and she knew the dangers of this world to well to fall for such a simple ruse. The back room was so small, Winter was shocked that a small and splintered desk not only fit, but also a wooden kitchen chair sat behind it. Winter stood, while the man sat behind the desk. Obviously thinking himself important.

"Now then, your uh-coverings.. Are they religious?" He asked, taking out a sheet of paper. Winter looked confused, what did this have to do with her job?

"No, they are not. I am a woman from the end of time itself, this is to keep humans from running in fear." Winter tested, watching his face remain the same.

"uh-huh, uh-huh." He nodded, not paying her the least amount of attention, checking off the religious box.

"Your, uh.. Eyes. Are.. You... Blind?" He leaned forwards, speaking as if she was disabled.

"No, I am not. This is from my return from the dead to often, 'tis a side effect from death." Winter narrowed her eyes, watching him check the 'yes' box.

"And, your hair.. Bleached or dyed?" He asked, Winter rolled her eyes agravated.

"You act as though it matters! My white hair is due to the fact that I have tricked death, not because I chose this color." Winter could have said anything, because he certainly didn't listen to her. Instead checking the 'dyed' box on his sheet. Why it was on the application, she had no clue.

"The way you talk... Are... You... Foreign?" He asked, again speaking as though she was impared.

"To this planet? Yes. To this country? No." Winter bared her teeth, as he checked the 'yes' box. Oblivious to her response.

"Last question, what's you name?" He asked, looking up at Winter.

"Winter Mills." Winter snapped, already taking a dislike to the man.

"Well then, Sophia Moore. Come into work tomorrow, at 6 am sharp." He tucked the file into the desk with what he thought was a charming smile.

"You've got the job." He added, with a wink that left Winter sick to her stomach.

Last edited by Winter Mills on Tue Aug 27, 2013 9:40 am; edited 1 time in total


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Re: You or Me?

Post by Guest on Tue Aug 27, 2013 9:01 am

Day Two
Winter The Barbarian

Winter lay awake, staring at the clock on her bedstand. Her hands shook as she reached out to turn off the alarm. Pushing the covers off, the cold hit her first before all else. Winter sighed, and turned her hand over examining them. They shook. They just.. Shook. Another nightmare, just like every other night. They still left her shaking, Winter would have thought that by the age of nearly 10,000 she would have gained an immunity. But no. Every night, without fail Winter would awake in the middle of the night shaking or shouting. Winter picked up her mouth coverings as she passed the bottom of her bed, tying them on she stepped into the hallway. Winter leaned forwards, peering down the hallway to Scotty Boy's door. She had to be quite, he had only just gotten back from his TorchWood branch. So she would let him sleep, besides. What buisness was it of his? Winter decided, cracking the front door and slipping out of the building.

Winter passed the skull and bones motorcycle on her way to the little cafe. It was still there, shining behind the pane of glass. And she still wanted it. It's skull watched Winter with a smug expression of contempt. It will be mine. Winter decided, no matter how challenging the job was. No matter how long or boring. She wanted it. The idea that Winter wanted, or desired something she didn't require on a day to day bases. So when she desired something, it was new. Probably an effect from arriving on Earth and having people start to notice her... It was strange, she had lived almost 10,000 years in solitude. And suddenly, when she arrived on Earth it was as if people not only noticed her, but desired her attention, her respect.

Winter continued past the motorcycle, to the little cafe. She noticed that the help wanted sign had not been taken down. How premature, though he may have been to lazy, Winter thought walking into the cramped cafe. Once again, the man was behind the counter that was far to low and covered in packed on filth. As was the entire cafe, it was brown and black from the smudges on the walls, to the dried and rotting food on the tables. Winter shook her head sadly, how this place continued to get customers she had not the slightest clue. It certainly wasn't his charming personality. Or the location, as it was hidden behind a dry cleaner's place of establishment.

"You're late." He grumbled, crossing his arms on his chest. Causing sickening ripples to bounce around rather graphically.

"No, I am early. Big difference." Winter pointed out, her pupils in her eyes narrowing into catlike slits. They were highly expressive to her thoughts, or mood while her facial expression was not. She was only ahead by five or so minutes anyway. But, again he remained oblivious to Winter's response. For he simply ignored her, as if he filtered any of her responses.

"I have your uniform ready." He pointed to the back room with a sneer. Winter raised an eyebrow, putting her hands on her hips with a grin.

"Excuse me?" Winter laughed "The first waiter did not have a uniform, why must I have one?" Winter asked, she needed the job to get the bike. But, a uniform? Winter Mills, survivor of the end of time... In a little uniform? Not going to happen.

"You can change into it in the back room, then come out here." He ignored her completly, annoying Winter to no end. Winter's eyes slit and she growled a bit annoyed, but pushed her way past him. It was just clothing, and only for a few days at the most. Unlike what most people thought, Winter didn't have a specific problem against dresses or any kind of clothing. It was simply clothes though, and Winter couldn't care less what she wore. But the fact that he had told her? That she had gone and was about to do it? That angered Winter.

Winter stepped in, the desk and chair having been removed in the night it was sort of spacious, in a closet sort of way. Hanging from a hook on one of the walls was a maid's uniform. Folded up nicely were the apron that went over top of the black base, a black tied choker, long white with black tie on the frills socks that came up mid-thigh. Complete with small black shoes, and a frilly head piece.

He seems to have mistaken me for a maid. Winter scoffed, changing into it. She left her mouth coverings on, and strapped her sword to her leg. Winter tied the apron on, it's tail was to long and both ends of the bow tail trailed on the ground slightly. The sleeves were a bit puffed, in a round but not overly done way. The frills of the apron scratched against Winter's wrist as she let her hands hang. It wasn't particularly comfortable, and the dress was as short as could be. Coming up high enough for the top of the sock to show. Winter stepped out of the back room, the door from the back room opened up behind the counter and beside her 'boss'. The counter was stationed dead center of the room, the door opening up only a few inches from the sagging counter. The tables were cramped together, not even enough room for people to walk down the crooked aisles. About 5 tables were crammed into a 2 table resteraunt. It was simply to small, and disgusting.

"Spin." He commanded, eying Winter's outfit with pride. With an eye roll, Winter spun on her heel. Her hair without a hood fell into her eyes as her bangs were longer then the back of her head.

"Now then, Sophia. Go clean the tables." He ordered, his breath smelling terribly of tobacco. Winter nearly chocked, turning she simply jumped over the counter instead of opening the door.

"Wait!" He said, reaching over the counter.
"Give me that sword, and the mouth coverings." Without her mouth coverings, she wouldn't talk. Wouldn't speak no matter what was said, and without her sword she felt rather vulnerable. Winter sighed, unbuckling her sword from the straps on her leg. Think of the bike. Winter told herself, picturing the skull and bones motorcycle as she untied her mouth coverings. Handing them over, Winter bit her teeth. Just a few days. Just a few days of this. The thought was a comfort, as Winter stepped up to the first of the five tables. Despite her agility, she bumped into many of the tables just by simply standing there. Winter took a rag, starting on one corner and when that was done moved onto the rest of the table. Most of the spots were to deep and rotten to come off at all, let alone easily. She had made a bit of a change on the first table, when her 'boss' chose that particular moment to pipe up. It was as if he was waiting, but Winter doubted he had the brain capacity to wait, that would mean that he would hold onto a though process and wait for the right moment to put it into play. With his scraggy beard, beer belly, baggy and stained pants with a no longer white tank top. He didn't seem the type to be able to hang onto a though process, let alone have one.

"Customers, you're on your own Sophia." He stated simply, pulling up a chair and leaning back in it. Putting his feet up on the counter, disgustingly he had stepped in dog crap, and was oblivious so it seemed. Winter snapped an angry glare at the man,

"You mean to say, that I am the only employee." Winter asked, but not in a I'm asking a question tone. Though it was a question, she was telling him instead of asking. As she usually did when she was quite angry. Winter didn't mind showing her teeth as she spoke, they appeared pointed and sharp and so very alien. He couldn't keep a thought process, or pay her any mind. He took out a magazine, flipping through one of the pages not even passing her a glance.

"That's how it works, Sophia." Winter walked over to the door, turning the 'closed' sign to 'open'. Though she couldn't read, she had a thousand little tricks to make it seem as though she could.

"I see why that waiter quit." Winter replied, to which he only turned the page. For a second she thought he had a smile, but it was hidden by the magazine itself. Besides, happiness is for people with thought processes. Winter decided, as the customers stepped in. For the next few hours, Winter remained silent. Bouncing back and forth from the kitchen and the tables. Winter was an exceptional chef, she could cook quickly and with just about anything. The Kitchen was behind the counter as well, beside the back room door. It didn't have windows, so the cooking fumes built up in the room and choked Winter when she cooked up the orders. Winter was tired, exausted really from serving so many, but as it was nearly 10 at night closing time was coming close. She hoped, as she loaded her arms with plates. One on each hand, then 3 more going up her arms. They were hot, and Winter felt it through the plates and bowls. When she walked, they rattled against each other only slightly. When Winter stepped out of the kitchen doorway, the useless man stuck out a leg hooking it on Winter's own, and tripped her. Winter a loud crash, Winter tripped and smashed her head into the side of the counter. Falling to the ground, with the shattered glass and burning food. Winter lay there for a second, the sneering face of the useless man and the shouting from the customers being to much for her for a simple second. The plates had shattered and cut her, and the hot food was all over her. Think of the bike... Winter repeated to herself in her head, as she had been doing throughout the entire day. Winter pushed herself up, the customers all shouting for their orders and demanding for her to move faster. Winter bent, and picked up the shattered glass. Her fingers were sliced, her arms were as well and her cheek had been cut. Winter threw out the glass, and wiped up the food with a cloth.

Finally, when the last customers were left. A family of 9 loud and rambunctious children screeched at Winter. Winter came out of the kitchen with their orders. Balancing one on each hand, three on her arms and one on her head. Winter set the plates and bowls in front of the correct customer, only after bumping into every other table on her way there.

"This ain't right!"
"I ordered this half an hour ago!"
"She's a mute mom! Look at 'er she to dumb to tawk!"

They all piped up at once, Winter was hot. She was hurt. She was uncomfortable, and she had had a long day. Think of the bike... Winter told herself, she was so very tempted to shout at them. To show her teeth, but it was to many people who would see her teeth.

"Sophia! You get those orders wrong, again? A full refund, for all these fine customers Sophia! And this time, get it right!" He laughed, turning towards the customers.
"What can I say, she's a blind mute. Bit dumb. And slow to react." He stated, and much to Winter's hatred the customers responded.
"That's so good of you to take the little thing in!" One of them chided, Winter turned. Threw open the back door and stepped into the outside air. Winter's eye twitched expressivly, looking up to the sky. Winter screamed in frustration. She had been through worse, had worse bosses. But, how foolish she was to have thought that it would have been boring!

She turned towards the door when her boss came outside, with that sneer on his face once again. Winter's eyes were slit, her cheek bleeding, covered in spilled food and she turned in a battle position. She would tear him apart!

"The orders were correct!" Winter couldn't help but shout at him, her FutureKind teeth showing menacingly. "A tuna sandwich, sliced diagonally with a soda choice of Sprite. Two orders of cucumber salad, choice of drink was water. Three orders of grilled cheese, soda of mountain dew for the snotty children." Winter hissed, but didn't stop as she knew the entire orders. "Vanilla with chocolate drizzled ice cream. And one order of chicken fingers with a side of grapes and milk! I did not, forget the orders." Winter glared, "And I did not, mistake the orders." Winter's voice was a FutureKind hiss, her teeth showing. Though she did look quite cute in her uniform, other then that she was frightening in the... I'm going to kill you if you speak, way.

"Yes, it took half an hour. Because it takes time to cook! I am no mute, I am far more clever then all you humans combined!" Winter shouted, her temper having been stored throughout the entire day.

"You are not kind. If I did not know any better, I would say that you.. Are.." Winter paused, connecting the dots.

"You are trying to get rid of me." Winter concluded.

"Ah, so she does learn!" He laughed, sarcastically clapping. "Now, get back in there. And clean up your mess. Those idiots spilled the food." Again, he seemed to have a new smile for a split second. Not one of smugness, or contempt. But of pride. Winter looked at the man a bit new, what if.. What if he wasn't what he seemed to be.

"What is your name, child?" Winter asked, tilting her head.

"Rick." He smiled with his smug grin. Rick turned and walked back into the building with Winter closely in tow. Winter took a rag, and bent down over the floor itself. Her bangs falling into her face, her cheek having bled a bit. Winter scrubbed at the floor sourly, essentially in a pout.

Rick looked at Winter with his secret grin, quietly thinking to himself. Maybe she's not what she seemed to be. He bent down, eye to eye with Winter. Catching her chin, he pulled out a clean cloth and wiped her bleeding cheek. And instead stuck a hello kitty band aid on it. It was bright, and the white kitten waved wildly on it. Winter's eyes for the first time that day widened from their slits, and she was speechless. Rick stood, and walked out of the building with a swagger.

"6 o'clock tommorrow, Sophia." Rick said, closing the door behind him. "6 o'clock."

Winter's outfit. here


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Re: You or Me?

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