knightsoflegend | open ♔ socialization log

Entry tags:

open ♔ socialization log

WHO || Everyone! [ota]
WHAT || Shenanigans. THIS IS MOSTLY AN OVERFLOW POST for the last social log whoops
WHERE || Anywhere in the castle, surrounding environs, London, Andres, etc!
WHEN || Any time in May/June
HOW || Actionspam

[ The castle can be a happening place, even on more mundane days. This log is for random interactions over the course of these few months. Because not everyone is into parties, ok. Characters who are not currently squired in may also post, as their characters are living in the castle awaiting their ceremonies. This takes place after the Knights have returned from Dimitris' wedding.

You are encouraged to start your own threads and tag around, and feel free to threadjack into any on-going threads that aren't specified as 'closed' in the subject lines since people can enter into rooms even in the middle of what's going on. WE ARE BIG ON THREAD-JACKING HERE. You can also specify 'single thread', meaning you want only one response for all participants, rather than multi-thread, where a number of different scenes/threads can be done as replies to the top prompt.]

On this log:

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, this hug feels like coming home. Never, ever, will Amy admit that England is home, but wherever Rory is definitely counts as home. (She will only admit that aloud when on Scottish soil, however. She's stubborn to a fault.)

Her arms fly around him easily, burying her face against his neck. At his comment, she laughs softly, shaking her head, but not pulling away.

"'s just me and the Doctor." It makes her heart hurt to say it, because it means Rory's dad is still back in Leadworth, but at least he knows he's not alone. How comforted he is by the Doctor's presence, she doesn't know. They had bickered a lot during the Atraxi. Of course, Amy had bickered a lot with the Doctor then, too, and she'd still run away with him two years later.

While he isn't necessarily thrilled about the idea that the Doctor was the one who found Amy first, he's glad she wasn't alone all this time. And since he was fairly certain with the angels interference he was never going to see her again, he can't really bring himself to complain about any of it.

"I just got here. To the Knights, I mean. I've been in London a while, working at a shelter. There was a troll, on the bus, and ... " He pulls back to actually look at her with a bit of a laugh, pretty much staring at her like she's the best thing he's ever seen. "I've never been so happy to see you."

"A troll?" Her eyes widen, but that's not really what she's most surprised now. "Wait, wait, you lived in the city?"

This is the same man that was once the seven year old boy that tried to convince his new friend of the benefits of country living in their rubbish little town. She was not persuaded, though little Rory tried his hardest.

(She knows it's probably because Leadworth doesn't exist but she can't help taking the piss.)

"Yeah. I was working at a shelter downtown." And don't judge him for giving in to city life, Amy. It was lonely all by himself. His hand inches up slowly, brushing against the side of her cheek with a gesture that is far warmer than she's probably expecting, but he doesn't realize that quite yet.

"Besides, all the noise made me feel a little less alone, you know."

Maybe he's just gotten a bit touchy in their time apart, she doesn't mind anyway. Rory and Mels are the only people she ever really liked hugging her to begin with. And Brian, of course.

Speaking of, "I tried to find your dad, but all I could find was that news bloke, yeah? He's got that same pocket vest, but."

Her mouth slants down in a frown, apologetic. It doesn't matter that Rory's been here long enough to have a job, she couldn't find his dad and she feels back about it. She couldn't find Aunt Sharon or Jeff or Mels, either, but Brian Williams is the most important.

He shakes his head, before smiling slightly. "It's alright. He'd probably hate this place anyway." Brian Williams with trolls interrupting his bus route? Probably for the best if he stays back in Leadworth. He wouldn't stand for it any more than Rory did, but he'd be far less equipped to handle an automatic weapon in his face.

"I'm just glad you're here. You're all I need, really."

But he would surely have a strongly worded argument for that troll.

Nose scrunching up as a smile spreads across her face again, she shakes her head, nudging him with her hip. Ugh, feelings. Rory, you need to stop, you know Amy doesn't do feelings. They're the actual worst.

"You're so clingy."

His eyebrows go up a bit at that, but he doesn't let her wander far. He's just so happy to see her that he doesn't think there's a possibility that she doesn't remember everything he does.

"I have been here for almost six months all on my own. Sue me for missing my wife."

What is Amy choking on? Maybe air. It takes her a second to really comprehend what he's said and after another second she just brushes it off, punching him in the arm. Her idiot best friend, yeah, sure she married him.

Meanwhile she will just determinedly ignore why that feels so right?

"Rory, mate, have you forgotten that you're... well, you're a bit gay, stupid face." She breaks it to him gently, as gentle as Amy can be, at least. But maybe he really has forgotten! The veil does ridiculous things like that, perhaps Rory's forgotten that all their pretend weddings as children we just pretend. Mels isn't really their child, that was just playing house.

There's a moment when he squints at her, trying to determine if she's really serious or not. They've been over this. They've been married for at least a decade. She can't honestly still think that about him.

Then he really looks at her. Looks at her eyes and the slope of her face and realizes that she's much younger than the wife he left behind. And then he realizes that the Veil must have missed with her memories because there's one thing Rory definitely knows for sure.

He sighs, and his eyes close. "I'm not gay."

This discussion feels familiar, but she can't place why, which makes her all the more frustrated. It's not hard to get her frustrated, it's her default emotion even more than her bristling Scottish anger.

"Then why haven't y'had a girlfriend ever, huh?"

Damn right she is going to argue about this. She's already got a lot going on in the memories department, what with the Doctor knowing this entire life she hasn't lived. One she won't get to live. It occurs to her, idly, that that may be the problem here but she refuses to budge.

Edited 2016-07-16 01:36 (UTC)

Well, that's a very complicated question, Amy, but not one he's going to answer with actual words. Instead he's just going to take a step forward, one hand moving to her waist gently, and leans in to kiss her like he's been wanting to since he first saw her in the hallway.

He'll hold that for as long as she'll let him, his thumb brushing against the small of her back gently, before he finally pulls back and looks her in the eye again. "I'm not gay."

There's a quiet moment, before he shrugs.

"I just only wanted you."

♪ the dead sea --the lumineers

Her hands lift to his shoulders automatically, though not to shove him away even though that is an instinct that comes readily to Amy -- figuratively and literally. She's only ever let Rory and Mels in, even now.

There's something so natural about kissing Rory, so natural and so impossibly extraordinary. It makes her head spin and her heart do an incredibly complicated gymnastic routine, making her tingle down to her toes, the warmth of affection in her heart exploding like fireworks.

Her eyes stay closed a moment longer when he pulls away, lips parted in surprise and idle confusion. She feels him shrug and hears him answer and her eyes snap open immediately. Whatever she was going to say is pushed aside so she can step back and slap him.

Not for kissing her, no she thoroughly enjoyed that, cheeks flushed pink with pleasure, but because: "Why didn't you say anything, y'numpty! Now I'm engaged to Jeff!"

Rory's face goes from confident and sure of things to completely exasperated all at once. Of course it's Jeff. Why let her believe she was actually engaged to him, when she could be engaged to Jeff. He purses his lips for a moment, before shaking his head.

"No. You were engaged to and married me."

There's a pause.

"Unless he came through the Veil with you and you're engaged to him now."

Because that's something that could entirely be possible. You never know with the Veil.

Amy crosses her arms, 5'10" of Scottish sass, bristling even as her eyes dart to his left hand and his ring finger which very much has a gold wedding band around it. Nope, going to ignore that!

"He's not here. If we're engaged, prove it then."

How could he possibly? But it tickles something in the back of her mind. A wrongness in her engagement to Jeff. And it pulls at something else that bothers her -- she could imagine leaving Jeff to run away with the Doctor, but how could she have done that to Rory? How would he still want to marry her?

Was she that damaged a person?

There are lots of different ways he could try, but he doesn't know what the Veil managed to do to her memory. It could have taken pieces of Rory and left just enough blanks that she attributed them to Jeff, or it could have just erased everything about their relationship entirely.

He swallows, thinking for a moment, before reaching into his pocket and closing around the wedding rings that he's been holding onto since he came through the Veil. He keeps his hand in a fist for a moment, before opening his fingers to show her.

"I saved up for that ring for months. Working extra shifts at the hospital, trying to make a little bit extra where I could. When I finally gave it to you, I wouldn't let you wear it much, because I was afraid you'd lose it."

He gives a small shrug. "Always did like seeing you wear it, though. You always looked so happy with it on."

"Afraid I'd lose it," she repeats, looking at the rings oddly. Little red box, side of her bed. She'd left the engagement ring behind because she was afraid she'd lose it. Now it has a wedding band, the kind you get when you're proper married.

Without thinking, she reaches out for the ring, plucking it carefully from him palm, leaving the wedding band sitting there forlornly alone. The ring is held between her fingers as she peers at it. She remembers this, remembers it with intense clarity, but she doesn't remember it with Rory.

"I left it, next to my bed, when I went off with the Doctor because I didn't want to lose it. But... Rory, I don't... I don't remember--" She swallows, licking her lips, unable to look away from the ring held so carefully.

If Rory gave her the ring then she's forgotten his proposal, she's forgotten the feel of him sliding the ring onto her finger. She doesn't remember Jeff proposing either, but it just made sense, didn't it? Because Rory was gay and Jeff was Jeff and Amy and Jeff were Amy and Jeff. Rory is telling her that they're not, that they never were and she doesn't know if she can disagree because she doesn't remember enough of any relationship. She'd just known she was engaged to Jeff, but Rory has her engagement ring. The one he says he saved up for, for months, and Rory wouldn't lie to her.

"I don't remember us."

It hurts more than it should, even though he already suspected it. She's forgotten him before, before they were married, and he made her remember, but he isn't sure the Veil works the same way. When he was a nesting duplicate, he was erased completely from her mind, from her life, from all of time.

Here, he's still there. Still part of her memories and part of her life, just not in the way he's supposed to be. This particular instance isn't a door he can kick down. He can't take the brute force approach to this. He has to make her love him again, which for some reason seems infinitely harder. He closes his fingers around the wedding band, slipping it back into his pocket as he considers for a moment, before asking, point blank:

"Do you want to?"

He knows better than anyone that he can't force Amy to do anything she doesn't want to do. And moreover, he doesn't want her to choose him if she doesn't actually want it. He doesn't expect her to answer him right away, but he is eventually going to need one.

That is certainly a question, one she's not entirely sure she has the answer to. Helplessly, she admits, "I dunno, I thought you were gay until five minutes ago."

And yet, very carefully, she pushes the engagement ring on to her finger, wriggling it over her knuckle until it nestles comfortably around her finger like it belongs there.

"Sometimes the Doctor looks at me like I'm this impossible girl who is going to do incredible things, like he is so proud of me, and I don't remember any of it and I don't want... I don't want to let you down, too." She's a kiss-o-gram. Sure she's a squire now, but she's a kiss-o-gram, she's not some time traveling hero, she's not a real hero like Rory the nurse. She's just Amy (not Amelia) Pond, the girl who waited.

And bited.

He watches her as she plays with the ring, listening as she talks about the things that she's meant to do that she can't remember and how she could feel that pressure. He would never want to put that on her in the first place.

But he wanted to marry her before she ever traveled with the Doctor. That much hasn't changed now.

"You don't have to tell me now," he replies. "I don't ... I don't want you to feel like you have to, yeah? It's your choice."

And if he's hoping that she'll choose him, just like she's always chosen him, then that would be great.

"But I don't think you could ever disappoint me."

Trust Rory not to push her. She was always the bossy one, after all, it's nice that some things have never changed. Especially since literally everything else has, universes included

"Maybe we could date first." That's a step. She's a little worried it's the wrong step, but it'll be like hanging out with her best friend again. Albeit with weird expectations of marriage attached to it, but she can work with that.

Maybe once she drinks an entire bottle of wine.

"And you can catch me up on everything I've forgotten." Which is just asking to be confused further, but Rory tells the best stories, if she's the star of them she has a feeling they'll be even better stories. Fairy tales.

It seems a little odd, going back to dating someone he's already married, but at the same time, it'll be nice. There's a lot of time that they've missed between the two of them, and starting back at the beginning is good.

No baggage, no history, no complications. Just Rory and Amy, just like it should have been.

"I can do that," he says with a small smile. "We'll date. Figure it out as we go." He then pauses for a moment as he holds out his hand to her. "If we're just dating you have to give me that back, though."

Amy snatches her hand back automatically. "No!"

Er. Well, she's not going to take her outburst back now, instead choosing to continue. "It's still mine. You already proposed, no takin' it back now, Rory Williams."

Yeah, this is going to be a little bit complicated but she's felt like something was missing for so long, she doesn't want to give up even a little bit of it -- including the ring. "I'll just hold on to it, for safe keeping. Get a box."

Keep it next to her bed.

"Fine."

There's a part of that outburst that makes him smile, because even if she doesn't remember him exactly, he's glad she at least remembers that. The wedding ring, however, is already back in his pocket, so he's going to hold onto that for a while.

"I'll just hold onto the other one, then."

Her head bobs in a nod. "Alright, yeah. Good plan."

Shifting back and forth on her feet, she crosses her arms awkwardly. "We haven't any kids, have we?"

Amy existed with very many abandonment issues because she hasn't got parents and her Aunt Sharon was reasonably busy having an actual life and the Doctor had a tendency to find her and then leave her, falling through the Veil into Wales was the third time he'd done so. (And while that one, she supposes, is technically not his fault, she also supposes she can't count it, but she does anyway.)

She doesn't know if she could bear being the one abandoning children like that.

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