Fam Away From Home

The Witchfinders

The village was small for the coronation of the Virgin Queen. The large group weren't even dressed appropriately, no matter how much Astra wanted to. She felt that made the most sense. They were there so clearly, something was going to go wrong. Blending in would be a much better idea, if you asked her. Also, she really wanted to wear the period clothes. 

The Doctor led on, entirely confident she had not messed up the coordinates again. It would be a miracle if she managed to hit Sheffield again when the group wanted to go home this time. Or just the TARDIS. "I'm sure it's somewhere around here!" she called back. 

Folks in long clothes and freaking pilgrim hats wandered past and Astra briefly wondered if she'd hit the wrong continent. 

"Come on, Doc, admit it," Graham grumbled as they followed the path a bit more. 

"I dunno what you mean," the Doctor lied, looking about. 

The older man held out his arms. "Well, look at it! This ain't.. the coronation of Elizabeth the First, is it?" 

Ryan looked around. "It's like a street party. Ye olde hipster pop-up happening." 

Astra raised one side of her nose at the phrase. Ryan shook his head, looking like he was asking a question. Astra shook hers in response, entirely sympathetic. Ryan deflated, looking over at Yaz with his puppy eyes. Astra rolled her own. Despite not wearing time appropriate garb, she was still dressed for warmth. She was wearing denim jeans, but her shirt was a long sweater shirt that laced up in front of her breasts, concealing the underneath skin with laces tipped by tassels. Her sleeves had a circle of stitching separating the arm from where the cloth began to flare. These lovely sleeved were sadly stuffed beneath the long, tight arm of her own trench coat. The others joked about how similar the two were sometimes, but you'd had the obsession for trench coats for long before you met the Doctor. Your bare fingers nipped a bit, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. Besides, yours was more of a waistcoat. It fastened in the front, just below the string lacing. The front clasp and slim sleeves were the only differences between their shapes as the bottom was all knee or calf length all the way around. Also, the dark fabric poofed a bit at her shoulder. 

Speaking of, the stubborn blonde looked around the area critically. She complained half-heartedly, "The TARDIS is being a bit stubborn at exact readings."

Yaz winced from her close position to the Doctor. "So where are we?" 

"Apple bobbing!" the blonde distracted the group. She raced over to where a boy was over-looking a large wooden bucket of water, several apples floating in the top. "I love apple bobbing."

The Doctor may love apple bobbing, but Astra loved the way she said that. Only 17, she'd not done a fair bit of traveling, and never out of the country before meeting the gang. So, her only introduction to anything British (especially the accents!) was through media, and she'd never heard an accent like this group's. It was very good weird. 

The Doctor held her hands behind her back, bowing to pick up an apple with her teeth. 

Astra stood to her left and faced the boy running the stand. "Is this Samhain?"

Squinting his eyes suspiciously, the boy retorted, "Samhain's a witch holiday."

A little offended, Astra lifted her head. "No, it isn't! My grandmother-" She froze and her face exploded with realization, parts of her face spreading in every opposite direction. "...oh. So it is. Then what's today?" she asked. 

The boy stared at her. "It's Sunday."

Yaz smiled cordially and prompted, "Yeah, but what's the party for?"