madmanwithfishfingers

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She could still taste the jump on her tongue. Tangy and bitter with a hint of peppermint. An odd taste that would appear when she was just jumping from place to place, inches, meters, feet to whole blocks and continents. Along with the taste, the feeling of disorientation had also gotten stronger, and how Rose managed to stay on her own two feet was a mystery but within moments she had managed to stop her propelled running and awkward swaying and she opened her eyes. Wrong place.

Torchwood had been working on a new line of vortex manipulators to replace the ones  so frequently getting stolen and she, she was the tester. The tester who had landed in the wrong place. So there she was, walking alone in the late evening, past the time where the buses and trolleys ran and- thankfully- people looked out their windows for they were generally far to busy having fun in their own little land when a sound rang out to her right and she paused, the senses she had very luckily honed over the years coming into play. “Alright then,” she called out, taking a few steps towards the shadowy figure a few yards away from the burning street lamps before pausing once more. “Who’s there? You need help or something?” Convinced there was no danger, a more worried feeling took over, the sentiment working its way into her words enough to portray that she was no threat either.