SKIP THE REWIND -> Are we in Germany?!

SKIP THE REWIND



I'M MAKING PERFECT SENSE
WELCOME TO SKIP THE REWIND. WE CATER TO YOUR WHOVIAN NEEDS AND WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO JOIN IN ON THE FUN. WE'RE SET IN THE YEAR 2198 AND IT'D BE BEST IF YOU CHECKED OUT THE PLOT, RULES, AND CANON LIST FIRST OFF. OUR SITE TAKES PLACE AFTER THE GIRL WHO WAITED IN THE SIXTH SEASON. PLEASE KEEP THIS IN MIND. PLEASE REGISTER WITH A NAME IN ALL LOWERCASE LETTERS.
YOU'RE JUST NOT KEEPING UP
WE STRONGLY SUGGEST THAT YOU CHECK OUT THE CANON LIST AND WANTED ADS BEFORE YOU CONSIDER AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER. THAT BEING SAID, WE DO ACCEPT ORIGINALS BUT ONLY FOR THE GOVERNMENT, CIVILIAN, AND ALIEN MEMBERGROUPS. OUR CANON LIST IS FIRST COME, FIRST RESERVE. IF YOU DON'T RESERVE A CHARACTER AND SOMEONE ELSE RESERVES THAT SPECIFIC CHARACTER WHILE YOU ARE WORKING ON YOUR APPLICATION FOR THEM, THE CHARACTER WILL BE GIVEN TO THE PERSON WHO ACTUALLY RESERVED THEM.
WIBBLY-WOBBLY TIMEY-WIMEY


MEMBERS - ONLINE - HELP - SEARCH - PORTAL

I'LL JUST SKIP THE REWIND


WE'RE ALL STORIES IN THE END

PLOT - RULES - CANON LIST - APPLICATION - WANTED ADS - ADVERTISEMENT

Please vote for us!
Shadowplay TopsitesRPGD Topsites
JULIE

NINA


ANYA

NEED SOMETHING? PM US. WE DON'T BITE.

  REPLYNEW TOPICPOLL

» Are we in Germany?!, Rory, Vincent, Amy.
amy pond
 Posted: Mar 3 2012, 05:22 AM
QUOTE

THE GIRL WHO WAITED
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 228
MEMBER NUMBER: 103
DATE JOINED: 02/28/12



Ja, Sie sind in Deutschland.
The good news was that they were in Britain, because the only Earth currency Amy and Rory had on themselves were British pounds. Carrying money was a habit Amy had rather gotten out of - she just didn't think about it anymore. It seemed a less useful way of getting around instead of, say, a slightly psychic paper. Even so, Amy's purse was in the TARDIS. So when she thought about the money she and Rory had on them, right now, it really meant what money Rory had. Amy was able to take it into the fish-and-chip shop and ask for exactly one pound twenty in chips.

She was served by a non-human. This struck Amy as particularly strange - of all the things an alien could be doing on Earth, why had they taken up a job in the fast-food industry? She didn't recognise the species. It had a bulbous whitish skull that ballooned up and out. Like a Beluga Whale, Amy thought, and she watched the alien's head to see if it wiggled while it put the chips in hot oil. The head was hairless and smooth. Two glossy, saucer-like eyes and a small, pouting mouth made up the features of its face. Amy had tried to make conversation.

"So, how do you like Earth? You're finding it nice here, huh?"

It didn't answer her. Amy smiled and raised her eyebrows slightly, hoping to convey that she was trying to be friendly.

"Where you from, then?" No answer. The eyes just stared. "Did you come a long way? I've been out there myself, it's ..." It was disconcerting facing those unblinking eyes and that silence. Chips crackled and sizzled in the background. "It's ... vast. You'd just like me to make my order, yeah?"

The head finally moved. It bowed in a slow, graceful nod.

Exasperated, Amy pushed the money on to the counter. "Pound twenty of chips. " The alien turned and started to prepare the food. She noticed it had extremely long, dexterious fingers, slender like reeds. Amy looked away and out the window. She could see Rory in the sunshine, waiting for her outside.

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. It hadn't been very long since that incident on Apalapucia. He had come for her then, again, as she always knew he would. It had been such a stupid mistake - why had she gone back for her phone? Who would possibly call her? Almost everyone who was vital to Amy was right there. That little, silly backtrack had nearly cost her thirty-six years .... it had cost her those years! Amy understood enough of how time worked now to know that those long years of loneliness and abandonment had never happened. Technically. They weren't ... official. And yet Amy had seen them, seen herself, aged and bitter and heartbroken. Her smile slipped, her eyes glazed over. All those years, and her alternate self left behind to die, the terrible choices of the Doctor and Rory, and -

Amy jumped. A big brass bell was ringing just there - that mute alien was ringing it at her. Amy narrowed her eyes at it - she was certain she could detect smug impatience from the alien. Amy took the wrapped-up bag of chips. It was still ringing it, she was convinced it was smirking at her now. "Yes, thank you, I hear you!" She snapped and stormed out. The bell was still ringing behind her.

She rejoined Rory and ripped open the top of the paper. Steam gushed out. She offered them to Rory. "These had better be the best chips ever, because that alien was rude. There's non-human working in there. I mean, what's with that? Come all the way across the galaxy to Earth to work in a greasy takeaway -"

And that was as far Amy got with her complaining. A moment later the world was sucked away, or Amy was sucked away from it. As she felt the world churning away from her she snatched Rory's hand, yanked him to her, and wrapped her arms around him. The chips were crushed between them. Amy didn't know what was going on, but she had been separated from Rory far too often and for far too long. After Apalapucia, Amy couldn't bear it again. What if she ended up someplace where he could never get to her, someplace far away and strange and -

They had stopped moving. Amy opened her eyes and looked peered over Rory's shoulder. Her eyes opened quite wide. They were in a train station, people were everywhere and she and Rory were like an island in the stream. The chatter was thick but it wasn't English. She caught sight of a sign over by the tracks, identifying the station. Berlin Hauptbahnhof.

"Are we in Germany?!"
THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.
PM
^
rory williams
 Posted: Apr 28 2012, 06:24 PM
QUOTE

THE LAST CENTURION
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 472
MEMBER NUMBER: 14
DATE JOINED: 09/17/11



We both know they could never burst our bubble.
Light fire, watch it burn.
It had been some time since Amy and Rory had become separated from The Doctor, but Rory didn’t mind so much. Sure, he liked the Time Lord and all, but he also enjoyed being able to spend time alone with his wife. Traveling in the TARDIS with The Doctor was always a fun and interesting experience—if not a bit scary at times due to the places or the creatures that they saw—but sometimes, Rory thought, a more subdued, quiet time with Amy was just as good. Anything with Amy was good to him, in fact.

When Amy asked for money to buy some chips, Rory scrounged around in his wallet for what little money he had on him. He always had at least some money on him, especially since they never knew where they’d end up. Even though they didn’t always end up in Britain—or even on Earth for that matter—he at least had a little money on him. At least enough for a taxi or for a meal.

Finding enough money for Amy to buy some chips, he handed it over and then sat at the table and waited for her to order, overhearing her half of the conversation with the clerk. If it could even be called a conversation. It was mostly Amy trying to get the alien clerk to talk back to her. Rory wondered why Amy’s charm wasn’t working on the creature, because it always worked on him and Amy could always get Rory to do what she wanted. He was still smirking to himself when Amy returned with her food and sat down to start eating them.

He listened to her as he always did when she talked, but as soon as he was going to answer her, it seemed as though the world was turned on its head. Well, more like its axis or one of the poles because planets didn’t have heads or feet – although Rory figured that if The Doctor were here, he’d be able to tell them of a planet that he had visited which had appendages.

As soon as everything stopped shifting, Rory looked around him, trying to figure out exactly where they were. It was then that Amy spoke up, thinking aloud that they were in Germany. Rory followed her line of sight to see the sign in German. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replied with a nod before he suddenly began checking his pockets for a gun that he never actually carried because he remembered what happened the last time they were in Berlin. “Where’s Mels when you need her?” he thought aloud before he continued with another spoken-aloud-query. “Do you know when we are? Do you think Hitler is still locked in that cupboard?” he asked, looking over at his wife.

TAG: Amy | WORD COUNT: 468 | LYRICS CREDIT: Edmund | BANNER CREDIT: Blog Sorciere | TEMPLATE CREDIT: courtastic ? @ caution 2.0 | NOTES: Sorry it took so long.
I hope this makes up for it!

--------------------
user posted image
Made by timeywimeyhermione on tumblr.
PM
^
amy pond
 Posted: Jun 10 2012, 08:04 PM
QUOTE

THE GIRL WHO WAITED
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 228
MEMBER NUMBER: 103
DATE JOINED: 02/28/12



Ja, Sie sind in Deutschland.
Now that the question of their whereabouts had been answered - yes, Germany - the next thing Amy got to wondering about was the how. What had happened should not have happened. It was not possible. Even as she thought that she mentally ticked herself off. She'd travelled through time ... and space ... future and past, and was now questioning trifles of what was possible and what was not? What did Amy Pond know, anyway?

Just what the Doctor had shown her.

And from what the Doctor had shown her, Amy knew this shouldn't be possible. Neither she nor Rory wore a vortex manipulator. She double-checked, just to be sure. And, crucially, they were nowhere near the TARDIS.

She stepped back from Rory. Okay. Germany! The whys and hows were inscrutible but there was no point panicking. And being so unexpectedly in Germany was pretty exciting, really - there was bound to be some crazy explanation that would make her head spin on her neck. After a moment she realised that the TARDIS was still translating for her. She didn't know what that meant, but assumed it was a good sign. Perhaps whatever had moved herself and Rory had also moved the Doctor and his blue box? She looked around, through the people milling about the station, hoping for a flash of deep blue or a telltale bow tie and tweed. He might be nearby. He might be back in Britain. Or, well, on the moon or something. She wondered when he'd notice she and Rory were gone. For all his brilliance, sometimes the Doctor's powers of observation completely failed him.

The tightly wrapped package of chips began to slip. Amy caught it. After a moment's consideration, she tore a hole in the top. The chips were still very hot - so apparently, no time had been lost in transporting them. Or maybe it had. Time was pretty confusing, now she knew it didn't run in a straight little line. Space jump or no, Amy was hungry. And she tended to think better on a satisfied stomach. So she selected one long chip and blew on it, pushing the package back to Rory so he might do the same. She looked around.

The platform was not extraordinary. It was busy, the kind of busy one expected shortly before rush hour, where the people who got there first marched about with a determination not to be there in ten minutes when the crowds got really bad. There was enough room that they weren't jostling one another - the people ran as if on rails, knowing exactly where they had to be. Other than herself and Rory, no one seemed to be just standing around gawking. Everyone else knew why they were here and what they had to do.

Well, it was mostly ordinary, except for the feathers and alien faces like they'd noticed in London. Whatever strange thing had affected that city appeared to have crossed over to here, as well. And just as it was in London nobody seemed to care, except for a couple of looks of distaste Amy caught briefly flashing on faces when an alien got too close.

"Hm, don't think so," she answered around a mouthful of hot potato. "Not unless he spent fifty years or so in there. Everyone looks pretty modern to me." It was true - Amy didn't think their outfits were out of sorts. Near as she could tell they were at least within ten years or so of their own time. Whatever their own time was.

Amy had been so fixated on the normalcy of the scene, of noticing how everyone else seemed to have their routine so fixed in its execution that the presence of someone else standing still caught her eye almost at once. It was as though a great red flag was raised. Her brow furrowed and she stepped forward a few paces, ducking her head this way and that when her view was blocked by commuters. She caught glimpses - rough-spun clothing, a yellow hat, ginger hair...

"No .... can't be ..." Amy breathed as she caught a flash of all those things together, forming the final picture of someone she had thought never to see again. She launched forward, weaving and skidding between bodies, frustrating and holding people up as she pushed through them. And when at last she came to a very sudden stop in front of him, it was all Amy could do just to choke out his name.

"Vincent!"

THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.
PM
^
vincent van gogh
 Posted: Jul 3 2012, 03:35 AM
QUOTE

A DELICATE MAN
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 34
MEMBER NUMBER: 24
DATE JOINED: 09/18/11



If I had the chance to start again, then you would be the one I’d come and find. Like the poster of Berlin on my wall, maybe there’s a chance our walls might fall.
Since coming to this strange land where all of time was meddled and muddled and thrown together, Vincent had been travelling. Not of his own free will, though. Well, partially. ‘The Eye Patch Lady’—as Vincent referred to her, even though she had told him her name was Madame Kovarian—and her horrific creatures with the bulbous heads and the oblong, stretched faces and the enormous, soulless eyes had him with them, normally; but they would occasionally allow Vincent to wander as he willed, as long as they ‘collected’ him again by the end of the day. Vincent had thought about escape before, but he didn’t know where to start or how to do it on his own. If only he could find The Doctor. The Doctor could help him escape. Vincent had met a kind, older woman in Oslo named Sarah Jane, and she was a friend and had been a travelling companion of The Doctor when she was younger, but she didn’t know where he was, either.

Another reason why Vincent didn’t try to escape was that there was always one of the Silence with him at all times. They would follow him and watch him, lurking just out of sight in the shadows. Although, for Vincent, ‘out of sight’ was not ‘out of mind’ for him. He would swear that he could see one of them out of the corner of his eye, but he would try not to notice it and would try to distract himself with other thoughts. Part of Vincent wondered why none of the other humans could see these creatures and he could, but then he would remember how he could also see that Krafayis when no one else in Auvers could. Yet, part of Vincent tried to convince himself that the Silence were just a dream, a horrible nightmare. That was, until he saw another one or Madame Kovarian came to talk to him, and the horrible ‘This has to be a nightmare but it’s not because I’m awake!’ feeling began all over again for the poor painter.

Most of the time, Madame Kovarian wanted to talk to Vincent about any visions which he might have had. He had them, but not as frequently as she would have liked. Vincent only hoped that one day, one of his visions would give him a clue as to how to escape the clutches of evil or how to find The Doctor or Amy again. Happy thoughts such as those kept him going when he felt like there was no hope and he would never be free.

Vincent still painted feverishly on a daily basis; and the times during the day when he was let out of the compound, he would take his equipment out with him and paint out of doors. It was nice to get out of the cramped quarters with the whitewashed walls and the horrible, rattling-breathed, nightmarish creatures of memory loss and influence. After a blinding flash of light and a few moments of bone-jarring disorientation, Vincent found himself within Berlin, specifically the Berlin Central Train Station. It took the painter a moment set up his chair and his easel; but once everything was situated, it only took Vincent another moment before he was painting like a madman possessed. No need to mention how the residents of Auvers-sur-Oise thought he truly were a madman.

He painted with a fervor that matched his good days’ work. He didn’t know why, but Vincent felt that like something big was about to happen—like the feeling that one gets but can’t explain. In the midst of his furious painting, Vincent caught sight of a flash of ginger hair from the corner of his eye, but he dismissed it as his imagination or a rare German who could possibly have the same tinge to his or her hair as Vincent did to his own. A moment later, however, he could deny the existence of the red-haired person no longer as none other than Amy Pond rushed to stand before him, calling out his name in the process.

In his haste to stand, Vincent almost toppled over his chair—but caught hold of it at the last second—but did accidentally drop his paintbrush, where it clattered to the ground and daubed a splash of color from the brush onto the bare concrete. “Amy?!” he greeted her. “Is it really you?” He wanted to believe that it was her, but he had seen the beautiful orange-haired angel so many times in his dreams that he only wanted to make sure that he were not merely dreaming again and that Amy were truly standing before him in corporeal form.

TAG: Amy | WORD COUNT: 787 | LYRICS CREDIT: Athlete | BANNER CREDIT: Sonic Biro | TEMPLATE CREDIT: courtastic ? @ caution 2.0 | NOTES: Vincent and Amy! <3 I’ll also change the picture at the top of my next Vincent reply. I just really love this one and thought it was very fitting for introducing him into the thread!

--------------------
user posted image
Found on tumblr.
PM
^
amy pond
 Posted: Jul 10 2012, 04:03 AM
QUOTE

THE GIRL WHO WAITED
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 228
MEMBER NUMBER: 103
DATE JOINED: 02/28/12



Ja, Sie sind in Deutschland.
Amy's eyes were wide as saucers as she tried to take the whole, improbable situation in. Germany was moving around them. Impossible people broke like water around rock, unaffected by the outrageous reunion before them. To them, what was taking place between people born over a century apart was nothing - just a small hurdle they had to avoid in order to complete their busy day. And in turn, they were nothing to Amy Pond. They were no longer singular. They had melted into one grey blur which moved as one, a swarm, a droll background.

She never thought she would see Vincent again.

His chair fell soundlessly and his brush beside it, any noise they might have made swallowed up by the hubbub. Amy panted, gasping for air, having not taken a single breath since sighting Vincent. It's reality still had not quite dawned on poor Amy, whose mind was racing to understand how Vincent van Gogh could possibly be painting in a train station, in modern times, in Germany.

Life with the Doctor was constantly surprising but the Doctor simply wasn't here right now. And Amy had the distinctive feeling that even he would be more than a little gobsmacked by this uncanny turn of events.

When Vincent spoke it all became real for her. The sound of his voice brought back memories of sunshine and a courtyard decked out with sunflowers. An unkempt man in a rough-spun shirt leaning over a balcony at her. Wandering down a quiet lane with the artist, easel beneath his arm, tears on her cheeks that she hadn't understood - but he had. It was all there in her mind and now here was he, before her eyes.

"How can it be you?" Amy managed to say at last, reaching out. "How can it even be you?" She clasped his shoulders and used this as purchase to throw herself at him. Her arms wrapped around him and she held tight. For a few moments she was convinced if she did not hold him tightly enough he would slip away as quickly as he had appeared. Amy began to laugh - almost hysterically, and then with genuine joy. This was all insane but she would accept it if it meant seeing Vincent again!

"Oh I don't care how!" She was laughing still and hardly able to be understood. She pulled back and looked into his face. "I'm just so glad to see you!"

Amy had quite forgotten Rory and introductions.

THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.
PM
^
rory williams
 Posted: Jul 16 2012, 06:53 PM
QUOTE

THE LAST CENTURION
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 472
MEMBER NUMBER: 14
DATE JOINED: 09/17/11



We both know they could never burst our bubble.
Light fire, watch it burn.
Rory didn’t think this day could get any weirder. Here, they had just been eating chips in a diner in London and now they had just ‘appeared’ at a train station in Berlin. Why did all these weird things happen to them? Was it because they had been time-traveling with The Doctor? Where was The Doctor? Was he okay? Rory hoped he was. The last time Amy and he had seen the Time Lord, The Doctor was throwing adorations at the TARDIS in the hopes of coaxing her to work for him.

But back to weird things. Rory used to think that dying and coming back as a Roman Centurion Nestene Duplicate was weird, but he had gotten used to it. The Doctor had rebooted the whole universe afterward, anyway.

But enough of that. They were at a train station in Berlin, so Rory was worried about whether or not Hitler were still around, of course. Yet, Amy did a lot to assuage his fears by noticing (and then, in effect, reminding him) that the crowds of people filing around them at the train station were wearing modern-day clothing. Amy normally did a lot to comfort and control Rory. When she wasn’t running headlong into a dangerous situation or saying something that scared him herself. She was a fiery redhead who was an intense and passionate woman in everything she did; and, honestly, sometimes she scared Rory with her intensity.

As he mused over how his wife’s hair color and temperament did indeed match, Rory didn’t take much notice of Amy looking at someone across the way until she took off through the crowd, leaving him—as her befuddled and unassuming husband—to chase after her. When they came to a stop, Rory couldn’t have been more surprised if Hitler himself were standing in front of them. Okay, well, if Hitler were standing there in front of them, they’d have quite a few more problems to worry about. Rory didn’t have to ask who this man was. He had already heard Amy call him Vincent, which could only mean that this man was none other than the great Dutch painter Vincent van Gogh. Rory knew that he was Amy’s favorite painter. But what was he doing here in Berlin with them?! Amy seemed to be wondering the same thing, and Vincent seemed as awe-struck to see them—well, to see Amy, at least—as they did.

Before he knew what was happening, Rory saw Amy literally jump at the painter and envelope him in a fierce hug. Rory couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at that, feeling like Amy and Vincent shared something that Amy and he didn’t. Yet, as soon as the feeling came, it passed. Rory couldn’t stay mad at Amy for long; and he wasn’t really mad at Amy in the first place. He just felt left out of their special moment. The next thing he wanted to know, of course, was where he had been when Amy had met Vincent van Gogh and why he hadn’t been there. “Vincent? Vincent van Gogh? The Vincent van Gogh?” he asked Amy, pointing at the Dutchman in question. “Where was I when you met him?” he asked quickly, keeping his line of questioning going; not angry, but merely curious, as his pointing finger circled from pointing at Vincent back to pointing at himself as he looked at his wife in the most curious of manners.

TAG: Amy | WORD COUNT: 577 | LYRICS CREDIT: Edmund | BANNER CREDIT: Blog Sorciere | TEMPLATE CREDIT: courtastic ? @ caution 2.0 | NOTES: The husband and the almost-ex meet!

--------------------
user posted image
Made by timeywimeyhermione on tumblr.
PM
^
amy pond
 Posted: Jul 26 2012, 05:11 AM
QUOTE

THE GIRL WHO WAITED
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 228
MEMBER NUMBER: 103
DATE JOINED: 02/28/12



Ja, Sie sind in Deutschland.
Amy was laughing. The surreal situation had ceased to puzzle her - she had learned to love the impossible and run with it.  She suddenly began to wish that the Doctor was here, too. She remembered the way he had followed her steps so slowly on that last visit to the museum. He had already known  that there wouldn't be any more paintings. Their foray with Vincent van Gogh had not changed his fate, in the end ... or had it? He was here now. Very alive. She could feel his warmth through his shirt and had felt the prickle of his beard brush her cheek. The Doctor would be so excited to see Vincent and she imagined his biggest grin as he turned in circles trying to think the situation out.

So wrapped up in the moment was Amy that it wasn't until Rory spoke up that Amy remembered him. She drew back from Vincent, still laughing. She reached back and touched his chest, bringing him into the reunion with her touch. Of course! Rory hadn't met Vincent. They had missed one another entirely. Amy quickly thought back - hadn't she mentioned this to him? Surely she wouldn't have forgotten to tell her husband that she'd met the greatest artist of all time.

But Amy being Amy, had.

"Oh!" She swung toward Rory and spoke at lightspeed in a low, quick, voice, "The Doctor and I met Vincent when you didn't exist." Aware of how that would sound to Vincent who was in earshot, she quickly added, "There was this whole time when he was wiped from existence. It was complicated, but it all worked out in the end. Oh my god, this is crazy, I can't believe you're here!"

Amy gave another delighted laugh and clapped her hands. "Oh! Vincent van Gogh, this is Rory Williams. Rory, Vincent. Rory is my - " She broke off, unsure how to proceed here. Vincent hadn't made his interest in her a secret. He'd made talk of children and Amy was pretty sure he hadn't been joking about that. She knew he was fragile, tempermental, easily tipped from mood to mood. But the element of surprise and good spirits was upon them so Amy felt confident she could reveal Rory's identity with minimal harm.

Besides. It wasn't like Vincent had been in love with her or anything, right?

"My husband. Rory is my husband."

THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.
PM
^
vincent van gogh
 Posted: Nov 4 2012, 04:36 PM
QUOTE

A DELICATE MAN
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 34
MEMBER NUMBER: 24
DATE JOINED: 09/18/11



If I had the chance to start again, then you would be the one I’d come and find. Like the poster of Berlin on my wall, maybe there’s a chance our walls might fall.
Vincent held his breath as he waited for the Amy-Angel to speak, to prove to him that she were real and not merely another figment of his imagination or a living dream. He almost pulled back when she reached out for him, worried that she wouldn’t be real and that she would fade away and evaporate into nothingness at the slightest touch. Yet, when she placed her hands on his shoulders, he let out the breath he had been holding in a large exhale and grinned broadly at her. He had just started to raise his hands to rest on Amy’s forearms when the redheaded woman launched herself at him in a flying hug and wrapped her arms around him in a fiercely happy embrace.

Vincent couldn’t have been happier in that moment. Everything about Amy was real and exactly how he had remembered it from her fiery red hair to her spicy smell and the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. He wanted to hold her forever and never let go. He had missed her so much that he couldn’t even find the words to express himself to her. He merely held onto her as long as he could, as long as she would allow, before Amy pulled back.

His blue eyes shone with happiness as the gazed upon the woman he thought he would never see again. “Amy, I missed you,” he started, his eyes softening for a moment as he remembered his loneliness without her, “but I am so happy to see you again,” he added quickly as his china blue eyes flashed with content once more. Vincent couldn’t imagine a more perfect reunion for the two of them, except perhaps for one that had happened earlier and one that didn’t involve this other man. Not that he had anything against him, but he would have rather it have been just Amy and him.

He stayed silent as Amy spoke to the other man. Vincent didn’t understand everything that she said to him, but it wasn’t meant for him, so he didn’t pay it much mind. He did inadvertently eavesdrop on their conversation, and could only conclude that it was something involving The Doctor and that strange blue police box that could take them anywhere throughout space and time. He nodded when Amy turned back to him, but confusion still showed on his face.

Vincent then looked interested a moment later when Amy started her introductions. He was curious to know who this other man was, why he seemed so protective of her, and why he seemed just as confused to be in Berlin and meeting him as Vincent was that Amy was here with a traveling companion who wasn’t The Doctor. So the man’s name was Rory. Vincent could remember that. Rory was- wait, did Amy just say that the other man was her husband? What happened to his proposals? The painting he had dedicated to her?

The happiness that had previously shone in his eyes suddenly faded and was replaced with somber sadness. Once they had parted ways, she had forgotten all about him and had married another. Perhaps it was better that he had attempted suicide. “I thought you weren’t the marrying kind,” he replied softly, his voice wavering. “Did you not see the painting that I dedicated to you, Amy?” he asked, his blue eyes quickly brimming with tears.

TAG: Amy | WORD COUNT: 567 | LYRICS CREDIT: Athlete | BANNER CREDIT: Sonic Biro | TEMPLATE CREDIT: courtastic ? @ caution 2.0 | NOTES: Vincent and Amy! <3 Sorry the ending is so depressing. I tried to make him happier, but Vincent!Muse refused.

--------------------
user posted image
Found on tumblr.
PM
^
amy pond
 Posted: Nov 26 2012, 10:44 AM
QUOTE

THE GIRL WHO WAITED
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 228
MEMBER NUMBER: 103
DATE JOINED: 02/28/12



Ja, Sie sind in Deutschland.
Okay. Perhaps she had ... underestimated the extent of his feeling toward her. Amy froze, uncertain what she could say that would possibly improve what had become an unpleasant situation. She glanced at Rory, her go-to person who always made things better when she muddied a scene, but quickly she realised that in this circumstance such a thing was not going to happen. Amy looked back at Vincent, feeling awkward and sick at the way he looked at her. Honestly, she thought most of that talk was just that - talk! Flirting was apparently quite different in Vincent's time ... or maybe that was just him. Amy had had marriage proposals before, all of them (except for Rory's) in jest. She had laughed them off. But Vincent van Gogh's feelings could not be played with.

She cast her mind around for something that would clear this up. In the end, the only explanation she could come up with was the complicated truth. Amy took Vincent's arm and led him a little way from Rory, hoping that the familiarity might soften the blow. She took a deep breath, trying to work out the best place to start.

"Okay. Do you remember when we were walking to the church together, and you said I knew loss, and I was crying but I didn't even realise it? This ... thing had happened when I was with the Doctor." She took a breath. She managed to remain so flippant and casual about much that had happened since her time with the Doctor but some things, like the cracks, still spooked her a little. "There were ... cracks in the universe. And when the light from them touched something - or someone - it took them away and they were wiped from existence. Rory ..." she glanced at him, feeling her heart start to pound uncomfortably fast. She would never be square with this memory. She felt her eyes misting over, ugh, one day it would be completely behind her. "Rory was killed and the cracks wiped him from existence. He'd never been born. I didn't even really remember him .. but something inside me did, because I was sad. You saw it. And then ... it gets really complicated. But we brought him back and ... here he is ... and we were married. I'm sorry," she added quickly, squeezing Vincent's hand, "I didn't even know."

THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.
PM
^
vincent van gogh
 Posted: Feb 4 2013, 11:37 PM
QUOTE

A DELICATE MAN
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 34
MEMBER NUMBER: 24
DATE JOINED: 09/18/11



If I had the chance to start again, then you would be the one I’d come and find. Like the poster of Berlin on my wall, maybe there’s a chance our walls might fall.
After what he had thought was expressing himself as clearly as he could in regards to how much he cared for Amy and how much she meant to him, Vincent discovered that he couldn’t find the words anymore. Or, rather, he didn’t know what else to say exactly. He had already said so much and now it was her turn to do the talking. He stayed silent and allowed her to guide him away from her new husband to explain things to him.

As he linked arms with hers and felt the soft touch of her hand on his forearm, Vincent wished for this moment to last forever. Oh, how sweet it was and oh, how he wished! In a reassuring manner, Vincent laid his own rougher, larger hand gently on top of Amy’s knowing that she would understand the gesture as one of comfort and acceptance and not a gesture of proposition. He swallowed when he saw her take a deep breath, his empathetic side tuning into the fact that whatever she was about to tell him was hard for her, so he wanted to give her all the time that she needed. His hand still resting over hers, he gently patted the back of her hand.

He listened with rapt attention as she explained the ‘world as she knew it’ so to speak, to him. He didn’t understand everything she was telling him, but her voice was soothing. One thing he did understand was when she asked if he remembered when she had cried. Of course he remembered that day, walking hand in hand to the church with Amy Pond, her beauty only marred by her tears and his heart beating along with hers in its song of sadness. “I remember,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he nodded, his blue eyes holding a deep sadness of their own.

Vincent frowned as Amy continued speaking, her explanation becoming more and more odd as she went. However, dead or alive, there was one question that Vincent needed to ask Amy about Rory. “Does he make you happy, Amy?” As long as Rory Williams made Amy Pond happy, then Vincent would at least feel a tiny bit better about them getting married.

TAG: Amy | WORD COUNT: 377 | LYRICS CREDIT: Athlete | BANNER CREDIT: Sonic Biro | TEMPLATE CREDIT: courtastic ? @ caution 2.0 | NOTES: Vincent and Amy! <3

--------------------
user posted image
Found on tumblr.
PM
^
amy pond
 Posted: Mar 15 2013, 12:39 AM
QUOTE

THE GIRL WHO WAITED
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 228
MEMBER NUMBER: 103
DATE JOINED: 02/28/12



Ja, Sie sind in Deutschland.
Such a simply phrased question. Amy began to smile. However awkward this situation was she felt a sudden reprieve, gentle relief. She turned her head to where Rory was standing. Her Centurion and best friend, the only man she'd ever loved.

Rory was the perfect foil for Amy. Where she was hot-headed and stubborn he was sensible and reasonable; he knew every flaw and failing she possessed and loved her regardless. Not to mention that Amy had put him through more than any fiancee or husband should ever have to suffer, and he tolerated it all. Amy did not see his generosity as a weakness. He had a strength and sense of conviction Amy was devoid of. She might appear, outwardly, as the stronger one of the two in the relationship but such an observation was utterly untrue and unfair. They played to different strengths. Rory's probably required greater courage. She lacked the humble modesty that was so much part of his charm.

"Every day," she finally said, and tore her gaze away to look back at Vincent. She hoped fervently this admission of truth would not hurt him too badly. She worried for him, and Amy would not know what to do if he fell apart. Rory would, but given who he was it wasn't likely Vincent would want him anywhere near, no matter what reassurance his profession might offer. She could not lie to Vincent - that was unfair to three people. And besides her concern for Vincent's state of mind was the fact that Amy didn't want to lie where her feelings for Rory were concerned. She never spoke to anyone other than the Doctor in any great detail about her love for Rory. These parts of Amy and her life she kept hidden and private. She was no longer afraid of vulnerability but she was adamant it was nobody's business. Vincent would never know it, but that simple acknowledgment on her part was rare from Amy. She would have laughed that answer off with a meaningless joke had anyone else asked.

THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.
PM
^
vincent van gogh
 Posted: Mar 20 2013, 12:35 PM
QUOTE

A DELICATE MAN
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 34
MEMBER NUMBER: 24
DATE JOINED: 09/18/11



If I had the chance to start again, then you would be the one I’d come and find. Like the poster of Berlin on my wall, maybe there’s a chance our walls might fall.
Vincent had posed his question to Amy and now he only had to wait for an answer. What kind of an answer he was expecting, he didn’t know. Well, he did know what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear the truth, even if it hurt him to hear said truth. Yet, knowing that Amy was with this man—Rory—who made her happy, he knew it wouldn’t hurt that much. He wanted Amy to be happy, even if it weren’t with him. It would make Vincent happy to have Amy be happy with him, as his wife, but he wouldn’t have Rory gotten rid of if he truly made Amy happy.

At Amy’s answer, Vincent let out a small sigh of . . . relief? mixed with hope and sadness? He couldn’t find the words to express the emotions that he felt, particularly because he felt a mixture of emotions coursing through him, much as blood coursed through his veins. He was sad that Amy couldn’t be with him, but he was glad that someone could make her happy. From the little that he had seen of Rory, he could tell that he was a good guy, quiet but loyal and kind. At least, that was the first impression that Vincent got of him. After all, he knew that Amy was smart enough to be her own advocate and get out of a relationship if it weren’t working for her.

But how could Vincent let her go? She made him so happy in those mere days they had spent together and he had missed her so much when she had left. He knew that she had to go traveling with The Doctor, but he had still missed her every second of every day that she was not around. Yet, he knew that he couldn’t dwell on the past. She had left and had chosen another man over him, and this other man was good to her and made her happy. Vincent could live with that and love her from afar.

Taking a deep breath, Vincent turned to face Amy, clasping his hands around her arms. “Amy, if Rory makes you happy, then be happy with him. I will acquiesce to your marriage. I still love you, Amy, and I will always love you.” He swallowed and quickly pulled her in for a hug, burying his face into the crook of her neck before he shifted his head up to whisper in her ear, “Be at peace and be happy, Amy the blessed . . . the wonderful.”

TAG: Amy | WORD COUNT: 410 | LYRICS CREDIT: Athlete | BANNER CREDIT: Sonic Biro | TEMPLATE CREDIT: courtastic ? @ caution 2.0 | NOTES: Aww, Vincent!

--------------------
user posted image
Found on tumblr.
PM
^
amy pond
 Posted: Mar 31 2013, 11:10 PM
QUOTE

THE GIRL WHO WAITED
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 228
MEMBER NUMBER: 103
DATE JOINED: 02/28/12



Ja, Sie sind in Deutschland.
Amy rolled with the impossible. Or more accurately, the improbable as it seemed few things in this universe could truly be the former. She hugged Vincent back and wondered if maybe time was kind after all and Vincent would be offered some reprieve, that maybe his dark fate was no longer awaiting him. He had been so close to the time of his death when she and the Doctor had seen him - months, the Doctor had said, until he ... oh, she still couldn't think of it, even now. But if there was any chance that things would turn out differently for Vincent then she would pin her hopes to it. No matter what the Doctor might say, or think, she needed to find him now and ask him ...

"Come meet him properly," Amy said when the embrace came to its natural conclusion. Her hand slid down the coarse jacket over his arm and took his hand, pulling him back to where Rory was waiting. She might have worried about what Rory had been making of all this, but they had been through so much by now that Rory was rolling with the improbable too. She supposed their adaptability set a new standard in human evolution. "Vincent van Gogh, Rory Williams; Rory Williams, Vincent van Gogh!"

It struck Amy, then, that she had no idea how long ago it was for Vincent that she and the Doctor had dropped into his life. He was glad enough to see her that it might have been months; but she wasn't certain it could be, if he had had that long. Furthermore, had he painted The Pandorica Opens yet? How close to the end had that been created? Perhaps it had happened and that explained his happiness - he might have thought she was dead. Or that might have still been to come ... time travel could get awfully sticky.

"Vincent ... how long is it since you saw me and the Doctor?"

THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.
PM
^
rory williams
 Posted: Jun 22 2013, 04:13 PM
QUOTE

THE LAST CENTURION
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 472
MEMBER NUMBER: 14
DATE JOINED: 09/17/11



We both know they could never burst our bubble.
Light fire, watch it burn.
Rory waited patiently while Amy and Vincent had their moment together. He wasn’t upset or worried about their interaction. He knew that Amy was his wife, and however passionate a woman she was, she was loyal and would never cheat on him or betray him. He simply watched from afar and gave them time alone. However, after a moment, Amy led Vincent over to them, and Rory couldn’t have been more surprised.

What was he supposed to say to such a well-known and renowned painter? Should he start with ‘hello’? Or ‘hi’? He looked from Amy to Vincent and back again to Amy, confusion evident in his face. “Hello,” he started, extending a hand for Vincent to shake, which the redhead took in earnest and shook firmly and fervently. “I’m Rory. I’m . . . a Roman.” He paused, making a face. Why had his said that of all responses? “I’m Amy’s husband,” he finished quickly as Vincent seemed pleased—at least, not as sad as he had looked when they first ran into him—and was greeting him warmly. “It’s nice to meet you. Amy loves your paintings,” he added, seeing the painter’s face light up as he bright blue gaze traveled from Rory to Amy and back again.

After greeting Vincent van Gogh, Rory fell silent and looked at both redheads together as Amy asked the painter another question, patiently waiting for him to answer.

TAG: Amy | WORD COUNT: 233 | LYRICS CREDIT: Edmund | BANNER CREDIT: Blog Sorciere | TEMPLATE CREDIT: courtastic ? @ caution 2.0 | NOTES: It’s short, but it’s something. Let me know if you need me to post with Vincent next or if you want to go with Amy again.

--------------------
user posted image
Made by timeywimeyhermione on tumblr.
PM
^
amy pond
 Posted: Nov 16 2013, 12:16 AM
QUOTE

THE GIRL WHO WAITED
Group Icon
NUMBER OF POSTS: 228
MEMBER NUMBER: 103
DATE JOINED: 02/28/12



Ja, Sie sind in Deutschland.
Hey, they were getting along. Amy was very grateful for that. Rory was laid back and, she was pretty sure, didn't feel threatened by anyone else. He shouldn't, and she hoped he no longer harboured and suspicions or uncertainty as far as the Doctor was concerned, either. That was just silly.  It was Vincent she was more concerned about. He had been fragile of mind when she and the Doctor had visited him. Openly fancied her (which was something nice to think about in those rare, quiet moments when she could reflect on their adventures) to the point of asking her to stay. In jest. Mostly in jest. Yeah, he'd been joking.

Still, it was a relief he was responding warmly to Rory. She could feel the tension slipping away. Rory, she thought, might even be good for him. He had a way about him, an easiness that people found relatable. Amy, in the other hand, had a vibe about her that not everyone took to. Her charm was far more sexualised, surface, and quick to evaporate when she grew impatient. Rory's was completely genuine, straight from the heart, and everyone saw that.

Including other girls. Not that Amy had ever gotten jealous, no. She'd not been jealous of Jennifer, ganger or real ... not of his spaced-out affection for the siren-doctor ... she didn't get jealous. Ever. Nope. And certainly not when they'd been in high school and that little tart Nicolette Hanson had been following him about like a lost puppy ... as if she had a chance anyway, scrawny blondes weren't his type...

Two months since they'd seen Vincent. Amy thought of standing in the Musee D'Orsay. No new paintings. His suicide still happened - they hadn't been able to save him. She wished the Doctor were here. She would know, at a glance, if the time was close. But now this had happened ... perhaps there was still an opportunity for change, for his life to be saved. There was always hope. The Doctor had taught her that.

"D'you want to go get a drink, or something? Share a bottle of wine or two, the three of us?"

THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.
PM
^
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

OPTIONS REPLYNEW TOPICPOLL


 


 


skinned by ashleigh of caution & atf.

RPGD TopsitesRPG-D
Shadowplay TopsitesShadowplayDelusional DirectoriesRadioactiveMoon Fighter Resource Forum

  • V
  • W
  • O
  • R
  • P
  •  
  • V
  • W
  • O
  • R
  • P