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@amyisntwaiting
Rules | Verse | Open RP | Wishlisted RP
// Welcome to the pinned post. 📌
For quick reference, this Amy Pond RP blog is indie, 21+, multi-ship, multi-verse, and multi-fandom. Have a look around! Drop a message or interact. I’m not scary.
“ so why’s it so important anyway? ”
“What’d you mean ‘why’s it important’? It’s tradition. We can’t just… not!”
“If you get arrested, I’ll rescue you, but the goal is to not get arrested,” he pointed out, “Or for nobody to really notice you there at all. You’ll just be another police officer in their eyes.”
Putting the costume on didn’t take very long, although she spent a few extra seconds tugging at the skirt. When it didn’t seem to get any longer, Amy wound up her hair and shoved the hat on top. She returned to the Doctor with a brief and ridiculous curtsey. “I’m not aiming to get arrested,” she acknowledged. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting I steal something from the police. A little thing.” It wasn’t as though she was suddenly becoming a bank robber. “Come on, then,” Amy urged. “Off we go.”
// Reminder of my impending awayness: 2.18 through 2.27.
“Wait, hold on,” stopped her when he noticed the drink in her hand and the empty one she just put away. “How many of those have you had? Are you drunk?”
Amy stopped and closed her eyes before she’d turned back around with a remarkably neutral expression. Lips pressed into a line, she shook her head slightly. “No idea. Several.” She paused “Quite a few. They were delicious.” Then her eyebrows were pulling down. “No. No. Absolutely not.” Amy paused again, glanced at the drink in her hand before looking at him again. “And if I am?” She wasn’t going to give him a moment to answer. “Doesn’t matter, does it? That’s what people do at parties with drinks: they drink.”
"I just want to try something..."
Amy’s expression looked pinched and her face was almost scarlet. “Right. This is stupid, but you’re going to have to lie down.” She held up a hand as if anticipating the questions or the hesitation. “And don’t be ridiculous, it’s just an experiment, so just…” She waved her hand along the floor.
“Oh, that movie!” the Doctor smiled, “Yes, now I remember that movie. But you aren’t really like that version of Mary Jane much at all, are you? If I remember correctly, the actress who plays her isn’t even a natural red head.”
“Doctor!” Amy gave him a sound smack to the arm. “It isn’t like it’s real, is it? It’s just a story. No, she doesn’t have red hair really. That’s what people do, though, they imagine they’re all sorts of different people.” No, she wasn’t like Mary Jane, or she hadn’t ended up like her. Amy had too much of a temper. “Doesn’t matter anyway. It was just something to try.”
Starter for @the--variant
Amy had a piece of paper clutched in her hand that every now and again she was glance down at and then back up to the doors available to her. At one point, she’d gone over to the map the building helpfully provided, but Rory had managed to smudge the writing in his hurry. Now, she was left staring, trying to recall the conversation they’d had half a week ago.
Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw a woman going by, the first real sign of life who looked kind of approachable. “Excuse me,” Amy started as she sidled up to the woman. “Hi. Hello. Are you… Do you know your way around here?” She made a vague gesture at the space. “And does this make sense to you?” The paper was held up, but the scrawl was illegible. It clearly showed a one and a five, but everything else was impossible.
Lily was relatively new to the hospital she had transferred from a Scottish one not that long ago , and before that she was in one recovering . So when the other woman came over to her she blinked a little and then tilted her head " emmm yes ... Yes ... Sorry ... I work here " she said a little dazed but gave the other a smile " hmmmm a little , what department are you looking for , or who are you looking for ?"
“Well,” Amy started, staring down at the paper again, “it’s a fair question. My… Rory sent me to pick something up.” She was still staring at the paper, but she seemed to startle herself out of whatever train of thought she’d slipped down. “Sorry. Rory Williams. He’s a nurse. I don’t know if that helps. Probably doesn’t. He’d said…” Her gaze shifted up toward the ceiling as she stumbled through the memory of what Rory had said. “I can’t remember the name. Maybe it sounded Polish. General practitioner’s office though. Does that help narrow it down?”
@amyisntwaiting
Jenny nodded and smiled a little as she agreed that somewhere else would be better for their chat . She frowned a little as the other said England . Ok she had never been to this earth but she had met other humans who said they had hailed from other regions . She nodded in understanding as she explained that she had moved from Scotland to England. “ Yeah kinda thought what with the red hair , pale skin and the Scottish accent ” she admitted . “ I’m not normally so bad with regional accents ” she said with a shrug .
Jenny waited outside for the other to return . She was leaning against the wall and nodded “ yeah … I’m ready ” she said as she returned the smiled and motioned for the other to lead the way . Jenny could do with more friends. Travelling alone was alright it allowed her to meet new people but it was hard since most of them she never saw again.
It was hard to say why Amy felt so certain she liked Jenny after only having met her less than thirty minutes ago. “Off we go then,” she said with a grin. It was fun, playing the leader. So often she followed the Doctor around. It was a nice change to know where something was when someone else didn’t. Well, she had Rory who often didn’t know much, but it wasn’t the same.
“Have you been here before?” She didn’t want to jump right ahead to knowing everything before they’d had a chance for a drink and some food, but she was curious and asking filled the empty space of walking with a stranger. “Earth, I mean. Not my garden.”
“yes I’m a bloody time lord, and I do act 89 not that you have any idea what that means for someone my species” he says rolling his eyes
He made it home and got yelled at before heading to bed.
It was a couple days later he was ditching school and sitting in the park when he saw her
“oi, are you following me? “ he asks with a frown.
Amy had been crossing the street when she heard a vaguely familiar voice. It took her a second or two to track down the source of the sound, but Jax wasn’t hard to miss. Her eyebrows knit and she marched over to him. “No, I’m not following you. I’m just around.” She stuffed her hands down into her coat. “See you made it home.” Her nose wrinkled and she peered over at the street. “Unless you’ve been in this park the whole time.” She had been a little worried, but the only other Time Lord she met had been rather capable of keeping himself alive.
amyisntwaiting:
Amy was more than willing to blame herself for not fighting harder to get back to Rory. To even wrest herself free from the Doctor and launch herself at the angel that took her husband… Amy had turned the moment over in her head a thousand times. She blamed herself for the way it turned out because she was the one that wanted to befriend the Doctor to begin with, she was the one that loved him, but no one else was even allowed to think that what happened had been her fault. Amy pulled the letter from her pocket and set it in her lap. She didn’t have the nerve yet to put it on the table, but she liked it where it could sit like a cat.
As Anthony went on, confessing that he wasn’t Rory’s by birth, Amy felt her reality tilt a little. She thought she’d seen Rory in him, but it hadn’t been. She thought maybe he’d found someone, if not to marry, then to be with for a little while. For several long seconds, she’d stopped breathing. Rory should have been there to punch in the arm and yell at for being so stupid. When she did remember that she had to go on breathing, Amy glanced down at the tea cooling in front of him. “Drink your tea,” she ordered quietly. “It’ll get cold.” Even if they had never had another child, River being the last, they could have had Anthony together.
If she didn’t feel a little sick to her stomach from the pure anxiety of it, she would have screamed right there in the shop. That likely would have gotten more of a reaction out of the girl at the counter. Amy glanced over at her, but the girl seemed to have forgotten all about them. Amy turned her gaze to the window. Minutes ago she hadn’t had to know any of this. Both of the people she was meant to raise had grown up without her, managed to be older than her by the time she met them. And Rory was gone. She couldn’t let the idea go. “I would have gone with him,” she finally said, without turning her attention away from the window.
Her fingers curled slightly into the letter in her lap. Now what? She spent so much time worrying about Rory, replaying the past, that it didn’t occur to her how to live a life without him. She was existing because it let her dwell in the past. Whatever she’d been doing, it wasn’t living or moving forward. Her gaze dropped to the envelope. She could rip it up. Then she’d never know what stupid-idiot thing he’d written.
“‘Course he was a good dad.” She didn’t know where the will to say something like that had come from. Amy had been entirely consumed by her grief all over again, like it was new, and suddenly she had the sense to process what Anthony had said about being raised by Rory. Shifting in the chair she finally did turn her attention back on the old man in front of her. “What about you then? Kids? Wife? Husband? …dog?” That was normal. Normal people talked about that sort of thing. They asked questions about people, and underneath it all, Amy wanted to know if there was anything else that might let her cling to something and someone already gone.
She told him to drink his tea and he couldn’t help but smile. How many times had he asked Dad to make him a cup, too? Have one with his Dad in the morning like a grown up only to remember it existed after Space Patrol was over on TV. He was better about not letting his cereal get soggy (or French toast on weekends) when it came to watching his sci-fi show, but tea… well, it was too grown up for a little kid. Even one who wanted to be so much like his Dad. But Rory always made it for him when he asked, without complaint. Like most things he did.
“I know,” Anthony answered quietly though he doubted Amy had said that for him. Or even realized she’d spoken it at all. She held the letter in her lap. It didn’t go unnoticed she hadn’t opened it. He didn’t blame her. He knew what it said. He knew it would be a process, all over again.
“No, no kids.” Anthony shook his head, not regretting such a decision in life until right now. Dad had always gently nudged him in that direction. ‘You could always adopt’ or ‘Things will get easier in the future, trust me’. Anthony had known he was bisexual from an early age, and mostly dated men until he stopped looking all together in the 80s. Such a fucking scare… And then there was Dad to look after. He didn’t have time for something like dating. But having a family to show off to Amy, to let her be a part of… That would’ve been nice.
“I am married.” Anthony took out his phone, turning it so Amy could see. She might’ve recognized him, maybe on his few episodes of Law and Order (every New York actor had at least one) though Paulino was mostly a stage actor, he had won a Tony in the 1990s. But Amy didn’t seem the musical theater type. At least not that Rory had ever mentioned. She was a writer, though, Anthony knew. Making up stories as kids, though based on fantastical fact. In a way, he had followed in her footsteps. Their story was too compelling not to be told… But that was for later.
“Paulino Estrada. We met as I was casting a play in 1992.” The photo was of an older Latino man, smiling brown eyes and a full head of grey hair, wearing an apron covered in flour, his hands messy with gooey bread dough and obviously in the middle of laughing. “He’s talking to some friends here. He’s always wanted to do Shakespeare in England, you know. Actors.” Anthony smirked, jokingly. But the implication was there. Anthony, and his husband, planned on being in England for a while. And whether Amy wanted him around or not, the option was there.
Oh. No kids. Amy wasn’t certain why that hurt. For a second, she thought she was moving into that numb stage where she would function like a completely normal human because everything had been too much at once. Then that blow, which she hadn’t even realized. It was likely because she was staring at the last part of Rory.
Even though they weren’t related by blood, Anthony was Rory’s son, a part of him, the thread that she could still reach out and touch. Anthony was also older than she’d like to admit and that thread was worn a little thin now. Too soon, Anthony would be permanently gone. She shouldn’t have felt as old as she did just then. No grandchildren. The idea repeated in her head. She’d lost Rory and River, and her world felt as though it was collapsing in on itself, getting smaller despite her age.
Amy’s eyes unfocused and they drifted down to Anthony’s shirt, where it almost looked like she was looking at him.
Although, the fact that he was married perked her up a bit. Her eyebrows went up. “Oh?” She peered at the image on the phone, the interest flickering into a watery sort of smile. If the man looked familiar, Amy didn’t indicate that he did, she had simply warmed to the idea that Anthony wasn’t alone in the world. There couldn’t have been anything worse than that, not that she could imagine now. “Are you staying then? He’s here?”
Amy regretted asking the question almost immediately. She’d asked about children and had hurt herself in the process. She couldn’t blame Anthony for not having children. Sometimes that didn’t work or a person didn’t want them. She suddenly felt every bit like every nan who’d ever wistfully mentioned grandchildren to their own children.
Anthony wasn’t her child, but she’d latched on to him in some strange way as though he could be. A little late for that, she figured. “You’re an actor too?” The fact that he’d mentioned being cast in a play finally jumped to the front of her mind. It was almost as though she were having a normal conversation. There couldn’t be anything damaging about asking about his profession.
"Well aren't you sweet?"
“Am I?” Amy’s eyebrows lifted. She looked perfectly unaware, although the smile creeping in at the corners of her mouth suggested otherwise. She shrugged and shook her head. “I just thought it’d be nice.”
“It looks amazing,” he told her, “And it should fit in perfectly. We have already arrived by the way. We are in London, or around where London will be one day. There’s a large castle right outside.”
Amy’s eyebrows shot up and she hurried, carefully, toward the door to open it and peek out. She didn’t fling the door open but cautiously stuck her head out. When it seemed safe enough that yes, they were at least somewhere and not on a cliff or in space, she slipped out. Close enough there was a large wall that she squinted at, peering up to see the height of it. “Doctor,” she asked, “where in England? I mean, who lives here?”
‘loaded question’
40
“What should we do now?”
“A lot of people and yes, it is more ornaments than any other tree, which is part of the reason it’s so large. They get large ladders and even some helicopters to help with it.” He thought for a moment about her other questions. “I honestly don’t know if they get them back or not, but they do make new ones every year. Not sure if it’s something they have to do or not, but I know most people do.”
Amy fell silent for awhile, thinking on the idea of creating an ornament every year. Would she like doing something like that? Was it just like putting up a tree to her? It was a tradition so people just did it. Were they happy about it or did it feel like an obligation? “Maybe I’ll find someone to ask once we’re there,” she concluded. “In a not-weird way.” She could only imagine asking some poor person if they were obligated to make an ornament and if they were fined if they didn’t.
“Of course,” he told her as he lead the way outside into St. Louis and towards the theater where the show would be taking place. “I’m hoping we’ll get a chance to meet him,” the Doctor told her, “Escaping from stuff like that seems like it would be a useful skill.”
Amy took a quick glance around as she left the TARDIS, always interested in where they’d ended up, but aware that the Doctor’s intention was not to impress her with the location so much as some person there. That meant hurrying after him because he did tend to wander off if no one was watching him. “You think he’ll tell you how he does it? Isn’t it a, I don’t know, rule or something, not to? Thought that’s how it went with magicians.” She paused before correcting: “Illusionists.”
“Okay, I know this looks bad…”
“Oh, d'you think so? Does it look bad? D'you think you maybe want to start explaining or will that only make it worse?”
“I don’t think it’s a dungeon under the prison, I think perhaps it might be part of the prison and that the prison built from here up,” he told her as he looked around, “The building above did look like it could have been here for a very long time. They may have just kept adding on and adding on and stopped using this.”
The Doctor looked ahead and noticed something odd. “It is a lot darker over there then the rest of the room. I think perhaps we should avoid that area.”
“They just… kept going?” That made the dark space seem stranger and the upstairs creepier. It was much funnier when she’d initially had the thought that these cells had been replaced by newer cells. Her grip on the Doctor tightened a fraction. “Could you be a little more positive?” Amy’s voice had gotten quieter, as though she were going to disturb whatever was in the dark. “I think the dark’s already covered the spooky atmosphere. Doesn’t need your help adding to it.”
“I did not mean for stripping to come out of this.”
“Well, you couldn’t just ask like a normal person. That wouldn’t have been very ‘on brand’ for you.” She stood in a small puddle of water, trying to peel herself out of a soaked sweater. In a final huff, she flung the shirt toward her discarded jeans. Amy gave a sly grin. Leaning over, Amy reached for one of the Doctor’s suspenders, pulling it only to snap it back against his chest. “Although, I would have taken a ‘let’s get naked,’ probably, over being thrown off a bridge.”
“It’s up to you,” he told her, “But I do think we should start to make our way back to the TARDIS. It will be dark here soon.”
Amy sighed. “All right. We’ll go.” That meant retrieving cold clothes from the tree she’d draped them over. She even considered trying to cram herself back into them, but nothing was less appealing than cold, wet clothes. When she’d gathered everything, slapping her sneakers down on top of the pile. “Lead the way.”
‘ there’s no way this bed is big enough for you and me. ’
Brow furrowed, Amy studied the bed, which seemed to make an already small room feel smaller. “Sure it will,” she responded brightly. “What’s the alternative? Sleep in the hall?” The hall was not appealing. It was narrow, with a wooden floor, and smelled of wood smoke and something she didn’t want to name. The patrons of the inn looked uncomfortably like they were medieval movie extras, which made it difficult to tell if they were the murdering kind or just out for a night with the boys. “But if you want to draw straws for it…” Amy glanced at the Doctor.
“I find things to do when everyone else is asleep,” he told her, “And not everyone always sleeps all at the same time. Plus it’s a time machine, so that makes things easier.”
“Course you do,” she agreed to his finding things to do. The Doctor hardly ever sat still. It was incredible. Amy hummed quietly at the reminder that they did travel around in a time machine, but she was too tired now that she’d managed a semi-comfortable position to say anything more on the matter. Her fingers had curled into the fabric of his shirt, ensuring that he was still there. After all, he had disappeared before for a very long time. That was the last thing she remembered thinking before falling asleep.
@amyisntwaiting
Jenny nodded as the other smiled back at her it was much better than a glower or a glare . Jenny opened her mout to say that yes technically she was from the future but then shut her mouth as the other continued to talk . She crossed her arms over her chest a smile in her lips as she raised an eyebrow letting the other talk and ramble and call her self crazy lady . It was quite amusing . At the request for her to explain she nodded “ I will … But do we have to do it outside ?, Can we do it somewhere, warmer drier , with perhaps something to eat and drink ” she said she tapped the device in her wrist and announced “ there is a bar near by .. we can go there ” it was an option if the other did not want her in the house .
“and no I’m not human ” she shook her head “ and I’m from the future .. I’m from a planet messaline” she said with a simple shrug . “So this is earth , where in earth exactly, Scotland ?”
At least Jenny was reasonable. Amy had met all sorts of people and not-people who were difficult. “Yeah, sure.” They could try somewhere a little less damp, and she was keen on getting a drink and a little something to snack on. “No,” she answered in response to the location. “England.” It was surprising enough that Jenny, who wasn’t from Earth, could pick out anywhere. Well, the Doctor could too. Still impressive. “Oh, because of me. No. I lived there a long time ago. Let me grab my keys from the house and we’ll go.”
Amy held out a hand, but she retreated back around the ship, glancing at it again as she went by. In the house, she grabbed her wallet and keys, and even shoved on some fingerless gloves as she came back out. Taking a moment, like a responsible adult, she locked the door behind her before stuffing the key down into her jeans pocket, returning to Jenny with a vaguely pleased look on her face, almost as though she’d decided they were friends in the time she’d been gone. “All set?”
// Friends, February may or may not have a different posting schedule. The posts will continue(!), but probably at a more sporadic rate because of work things.
