shenanigans.

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

WHAT: Log/actionspam re: rescuing Whiny McWhinyPants I mean Rory.
WHO: All the people who apparently like Rory???? Who are you. Participation not required, etc, but pop by if you want.
WHEN/WHERE: The Dark Hour, Monday the 13th, somewhere that essentially looks like Amy's childhood home: big house, lots of rooms. For reference.

At night, Amy's empty house is just a little bit foreboding. Everything creaks, and every single sound becomes a possible robber, a monster, a vengeful spirit. Or at least, that's how it was when Rory was allowed to stay over when they were small.

Now, Rory lies in wait. He paces around the room, his path marked by the clothes that frame it on the floor. He mutters to himself, half-remembered memories of another time he spent waiting.

The other Rory, suitably chastised after trying to fight his extremely vocal and more capable counterpart, sits on the bed, handcuffed to the bedpost. Every so often, when he thinks he hears a sound, he tenses.

"Don't worry," Rory says, stopping his pacing to address him, shaking the little Amelia doll he holds in front of him. "Chances are no one's coming. But we've got practice waiting forever, haven't we?"

The other Rory bares his teeth, "We have nothing in common."

The room the two Rorys occupy is not an easy one to find. Cloaked by a perception filter, the door cannot be found by a simple look around. Rory's rescuers must be careful, and look where they wouldn't usually look.

When the door finally does open, and Rory sees their visitors, he starts laughing. The other Rory tries to get up from the bed, and the bedframe rattles.

Rory hisses, "Shut up."

He turns back to his would-be rescuers and makes as if to straighten his tie--an empty gesture, as it's more than ruined.

"Welcome! We thought you'd never get here."

Comments

roryroryroryrory

[stillwaiting]

[Been there, done that, wrote the book on it. A perception filter was a bit of an old trick to use on Amelia Pond, especially when she knew where to look in the first place. The door swings open with an audible protest and Amy Pond stands resplendent in her the twisted half-light of the hallway, wearing her police-getup flak jacket and combat boots, and carrying a very, very big, gun.

She sweeps her eyes over the room - the shoddy, creepy replica of her childhood - taking in the weedy, slightly manic-looking replica of her husband and (her stomach gives an anxious lurch) the man of the hour himself. Her gaze tracks back to the shadow.]

Yeah, well. Hope I was worth the wait.

[In a jerky motion she hefts the gun and cocks it with a snap, pointing the barrel-shaped end at the doppelganger in the suit and fixing him with a look that could set concrete.]

I'll be having that back.

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

[Rory spreads his arms out and smiles.]

What's this? You've brought a gun? You want to hurt me?

[His face twists into something less than friendly.]

After all I've done for you! Is this some kind of revenge for that time when I died for you, and then turned plastic and shot you because I was being controlled by all the Doctor's enemies?

[He crushes the little Amelia doll he holds.]

Or is it something else?

[On the bed, the other Rory tries to struggle, and calls out to his wife.]

[stillwaiting]

Dearly.

[She keeps the gun pointed squarely at the shadow's chest, though it wavers a bit.]

All that.... that wasn't you. That was Rory. You lured him into this little funhouse - now you think you can just put on his face and walk around like you're him??

[Her gaze darts briefly to her husband on the bed, then back to the shadow copy. Her expression may be hostile but there's forced geniality in her voice - the question is meant for the original.]

All right, babe?

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

[Rory smiles a little, but turns serious soon enough.]

Been better. Amy, don't--don't listen to him. He's...well, I don't know exactly, but he's just spewing lies and just. I don't want him to hurt you.

[Rory's shadow, of course, looks vaguely disgusted.]

[riseup]

[ John follows behind the rest, the Zillyhoo slung over one shoulder. It's hard not to feel triumphant about all of this. Fighting evil shadows, while scary, is really fun and weirdly fulfilling! Still, the sight of two Rory's makes him falter a bit, and John takes a second to clean his glasses.]

Rory! I'm really glad you are okay. Uh... that goes for both of you, I guess.

[Suddenly, his whole face brightens. ]

Hey, is this like Face/Off?

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

[On the bed, Rory stops struggling for a second.]

The Nicolas Cage movie? How is it at all like that? I thought they switched faces or someth--

[Rory's shadow, who's trying to be dramatic, doesn't appreciate the interruption, and takes a violent step toward the bed, and Rory shuts up. Then the shadow turns toward John.]

It can be, if it helps you understand it. Mostly it's that this one [He jerks a thumb towards Rory.] is a bit of a mess, and I think it's high time everyone knew.

[riseup]

[ On second thought, shadow Rory's kind of scary. Maybe this business is too serious for Nic Cage jokes. John's smile drops a bit. ]

Everyone thinks they are a mess, sometimes. But a lot of people like you the way you are. See! Look how many of us came.

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

I dunno, I don't really think the number of people matters, as much as the reason. And I'm not sure everyone has my best interests at heart.

[Rory shrugs.]

I told you, John, you wouldn't like me if you really knew me.

[riseup]

[ Sorry, Shadow Rory! Were you trying to bring this little ball of sunshine down with your whining? You are going to have to try a whole lot harder than that, because John is smiling at you like you are the last kitten on Earth. ]

Or maybe I would like you more! Did you ever think about that?

[ Still, this is Business Time. John holds the Zillyhoo at the ready and stares Rory right in the weird yellow eyes. ]

Why are you being so hard on yourself?

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

[Rory lets out a forceful sigh. What is a bundle of whining to do with all this logic? Disregard it? Disregard it.]

No, John, I hadn't considered that. People don't usually take kindly to whiny, useless cowards, d'you know? It's not surprising, either.

[He shrugs.]

Everyone else is, I figured it was about time I joined in.

[squidissension]

[ Weirdly (or wweirdly) Eridan's kept pretty quiet up till this point. It might have something to do with how fierce Amy's been, or that shootin shit puts Eridan in a less than whiny mood. Either way, he's had enough of listening to other people talk without sticking his gills in where he (probably) doesn't belong. ]

He likes evveryone, its actually pretty fuckin annoyin. And wwhat the hell other intentions are people supposed to havve, it wwas tough as shit to get here, no thanks to you

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

Don't know. Might be they want to impress someone. Might be they want just like adventure. Either way, not everyone is here for me.

[Rory huffs a laugh.]

But at least Amy is, I suppose. Which is a nice change.

[On the bed, Rory rattles his handcuffs as he tries to sit up.]

Don't talk about her like that. [His voice is quiet, but strong.]

[riseup]

[ For what John believes is the 59th time tonight— ]

Shut up, Eridan.

[yearoftruth.livejournal.com]

[Souji comes in behind Amy. He's used to leading, but Amy's drive is overwhelming. This was something that she, as well as Rory, needed to face head on. So there commands on the side as they're fighting Shadows, but as soon as they enter the last room, he falls silent. They're here now as support, and to keep the situation in check in case things got out of hand. He'd seen this a lot before, and realizing that this was a part of a person became easier and easier. (He knew, even though he never faced it, that it was inside of him too.)

For now, it was time for them to talk.]

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

[Rory takes notice of him, and identifies him as one the people who tried to talk him down from his agitated state.]

You said I'd have to wait and see, didn't I? Well, I've waited a fair bit, I think. What am I supposed to be seeing here?

[yearoftruth.livejournal.com]

[There's no judgment in his expression, he talks evenly. Though, by the tone, someone might be able to detect a little bit of optimism.]

We came to get you. All of us.

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

All of you?

[Rory lifts an eyebrow and gives Souji a plainly disbelieving look.]

I know maybe a few of you, but the rest of you have no reason to be here, do you? No reason to care about what happens to me, of all people.

[yearoftruth.livejournal.com]

A lot of them insisted that they wanted to come. You had to have touched their lives in some way that they'd be willing to risk theirs to come save you.

[He keeps eye contact, and then quirks his head.]

[mrspond.livejournal.com]

[On the bed, Rory makes a surprised sound.]

Really? [He glances nervously at his shadow who sneers at him.

Rory's shadow turns back to Souji.]

Then they must have caught me on a good day, or something. Why would they have come otherwise?

[allons_y_alonso]

[The Doctor has been keeping careful track of each expedition Souji and company made into the Dark Hour, and once the spot of coordinated stalking he'd indulged in had paid off, everyone had been waiting for their moment.

Well. Everyone but Amy, who's not much of one for waiting. Nor for listening to him, actually. She seems generally less than friendly towards his current iteration.

In any case, when they reach the house, there's an extreme sense of psychic foreboding, a very disturbing presence, and while he may not know where in the house to look, there's no question that this is the destination.

He signals the rest of his little cadre to head in, and as soon as the last of the Investigation Team has gone ahead, he plunges in after them.]

[chronosexual]

[On The Doctor's cue, Jack bolted into the house. Unfamiliar territory. Yeah, Jack was back in his element. A small torch in one hand and faithful pistol in the other, Jack makes certain to check around corners. There was nothing that wasn't odd about this whole situation, and ever the professional, Jack had to be sure.

It seemed that most of the party had decided to migrate upstairs, so Jack started toward an empty room on the first floor, keeping his torch raised, he scanned the room carefully. The Doctor's friend was in trouble somewhere in this big, old, creaky house. Things here seemed a little too quiet for his taste.

Unable to make out anything just yet, Jack leaned back toward where he'd left The Doctor and spoke in a hushed voice.]

Are you picking up traces of anything, Doctor?

[allons_y_alonso]

Psychic trauma. Suffering. And... a hunger for it. A watchfulness. Whatever's going on here, there are immense amounts of psychic energy siphoning off all the pain they feel... and looking forward to more.

[He grimaces in frustration, and shakes his screwdriver.]

This, though, this is still dead and useless. I need a way to run it on an alternate power setting...

Never mind. The source of all of this, the eye of the storm, is somewhere above us still.

[turnedleft]

[ Of course anywhere the Doctor is, Donna's right along side. Amy's been a right terror looking for her husband, but Donna's not one to blame the girl. Now that they've found him.. she's not sure how they're supposed to fix this one. ]

[ Hard not to smile whenever Jack's around though! ]

Here, let me see. [ Reaches out for the screwdriver to try her luck at rerouting the power, though there's a pressure headache building just thinking about it. ]

If this thing's lookin forward to sufferering, then the right idea is to try and build him up, yeah? The real Rory. Though if you think you're unimportant, don't know how much of that'll get through.

[chronosexual]

Great. Psychic masochist. Love those.

[Jack's face fell at hearing the screwdriver had lost its power. That was never good. With one last sweep with the torch, Jack's pistol fell to his side, and Jack, back to The Doctor and Donna.]

All right, look, we'll try and figure out something later, but for right now, I think it's safe to assume that we don't have the liberty of time. Here. Take the torch. See if you can't work something out with it. I'll start up the stairs. You two stick together. I don't need either one of you getting hurt. Took me long enough to find you.

[He gave the pair a smile and started up the stairs on his toes, moving slowly, pistol raised once more.]

[turnedleft]

[ Donna beams between the torch and the still lifeless screwdriver. ]

I think he's worried about us!