sixthiterationlogs | A New Life...Again

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A New Life...Again

WHO: Rory Williams
WHERE: Fountain
WHEN: Dec 22 -- Various Times
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: TBD
STATUS: CLOSED

A. Door to Door
You may have been curling up to a good book you had just received from the Mysterious Gift Deliveries or maybe you were getting ready to go hunting, knife and snares ready to go. Whatever the case may be there is a knock at your door. It doesn't sound very urgent, though it is firm and insistent. Maybe you ignore it. Who could possibly need to see you right this second anyway? It's a village and they can just see you at the inn later. If you do ignore it, another knock will come, this time a little more insistent, urgent and loud. This time you may decide to actually get up and open the door.

Rory stands outside on the porch of a random house. He has no clue where, when, or why he's here. He's wearing unfamiliar navy blue scrubs and is soaking wet -- which probably tells the person answering the door exactly where he came from. He's shaking violently, but he doesn't look scared so much as exasperated by his current predicament. As soon as the door opens he gives a friendly wave, "Hello. I'm Rory. Sorry to bother you, but I seem to have taken an unexpected swim in your local fountain. Do you think you could spare a towel or...I dunno maybe let me in for a minute? It's really cold out here."

The water drips off of him onto the porch or steps of the house. He really hopes he picked a good person to talk to or otherwise this is going to be even more unpleasant than his initial arrival.

---

B. Later -- The Inn
Rory has the basics, or so he thinks, of his new predicament. He's not in New York City. He's not in the 1930s. He's still without his wife. One of these things is a problem, but not one he thinks he can solve. To be fair, he'd been without his wife for nearly a week by this point -- but still, it didn't feel right and he hadn't accepted it. Now he was arguably even more out of her reach than before.

Either way, it wasn't a problem he could solve. He needed to find something more productive to focus on. Keep himself busy so he didn't dwell on that fact. The inn, as he had been told, had a lot to offer in terms of interaction and information so he had elected to visit. He was actually grateful he had because there was food available -- hot, warm, fight-against-the-cold kind of food. He was extremely happy about that and was also happy to find that there was indeed people. More importantly though there was information. Rory needed that right now so he could try to figure out what all of this was.

So, if you weren't one of the lucky few who's door he banged down to get warm. Perhaps you would come across a young man staring at the various lists, maps, and charts on the walls of the inn. He might need to be reminded that his soup was getting cold...

---

C. Waiting at the Fountain
He was dry the second time he visited the fountain and now wearing proper winter clothes. Or, at the very least, the wool socks, coat, and layers provided in the bag he'd arrived with on his back. He stood a few feet away from the fountain, near one of the benches like he might be thinking of sitting but hadn't quite committed himself to it yet. He'd had warm food and good company, but there was still someone missing. Rory didn't have faith in a lot of things -- religion or the Doctor -- but there was one thing he felt he could rely on after all this time. He felt that he could rely on the fact that Amy would make her way to him.

Sure, it'd been over a week since that time in the graveyard when she'd vanished in front of his eyes in the blink of an eye. A week since he'd found himself, once again, in a past version of New York after having just seen a gravestone with his name on it. It hadn't taken long for him to put the pieces together or what had probably had happened and what that gravestone had meant. But still, that didn't mean he'd given up. He'd wait 2000 years once for Amy and she, in turn, had come back to him every single time. They'd done the impossible for each other over and over.

In his gut, Rory was of the belief that Amy would come for him here as well. Just because she hadn't shown up in 1930s New York City didn't mean she hadn't been trying. It wasn't like she could have gone up to the Angels and say "Send me to my husband right this instant."

Actually, no, he took that back, that was exactly something Amy would have done. Or something like it.

So despite the snow, the cold, and the impossible chances. Rory had decided to come back to the fountain and see what happened. He stared off into the distance and might not hear anyone else coming as he had a far away look on his face. It was a look that was equal parts sad and weary.

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Rory snorts, choking back a derisive laugh in the process. "Oh good. So it's not weird then." Except that it is. It is very weird for people to be popping up in the middle of a fountain in a strange village that looked like it might be older than even the 1930s. But, that was Rory's life wasn't it? Things being weird on a scale that most people would find utterly disturbing and over the top science fiction.

"Rory Williams," he replies, figuring that was a little more on the normal side of things. His gaze drifts towards the indicated hallway, "Thank you. That would be helpful. This situation is strange enough without dripping in someone's living room." Rory looks down at the bag, there should be clothes in there, assuming they aren't also wet -- the bag did seem rather sturdy and maybe even a little water proof. Although the real test would be opening it -- Rory's luck is such that it could very well have a hole in it in one of the pockets or something. "If you'll...excuse me for a moment then."

Since they are waiting for the water, Rory decides now would be the best time to change clothes. Apparently he's excused enough to travel to the bathroom and get out of the wet clothes, which is invitation enough for him. Besides, it doesn't take him long to change at all (though he's pleasantly surprised to find warmer clothes in the backpack as well). A few minutes later he returns with a fresh set of clothes, having dried off the best he could manage.

"That's much better and much appreciated."

Rory disappears to change, and Sonny tends to the tea once the kettle has heated up. It's all loose leaf tea, which is different than how his tea is done back home, but he's adapting to that as well. He's been adapting to an alarming amount of things lately, and has chosen to cope by simply not thinking very hard about it all.

It's a bad way of coping. He needs to sit down and pray.

There's two cups of hot tea waiting on the table next to the couch when Rory gets back, and Sonny's sat down and pulled one of his many blankets into his lap. At least now he feels a little more in his element. Helping people is what he's good at. It's what he likes to do.

"No problem, man. Hey, you can sit down if you want, no sense in just standing around. I got your tea on the table here." He's talking a little too much. He's always been bad about that. "You probably have some questions."

There are only so many times he can say thank you without it sounding forced or awkward. Instead he nodded this time and picked up the tea as he had a seat. It felt really good because he was still recovering from the cold. He didn't drink it right away, instead just basking in that warmth. Now that he was dry and warm he relaxed a little more. It was clear as well that Sonny wasn't going to try murdering him any time soon and that was good news for him.

"A few...I mean I did just swim out of a fountain that didn't have any clear opening for me to have come out of and I was a little focused on getting out of the cold but this is pretty clearly not New York." Which was where he had been only a few minutes ago. True, it wasn't where he'd wanted to be or where he was originally from -- but he'd been getting adjusted there and now he was having to start over again. He wasn't too happy about that since it meant even more obstacles between himself and his wife.

"We don't really have anything in the way of sugar," he says as an afterthought. "So uh, sorry about that...."

That's probably the least of Rory's concerns, but it's at least worth mentioning. He remembers when he emerged from the fountain and Riza took him to the Inn, that the tea they'd had there had been bitter. But all he cared about was that it was warm, and it helped heat him from the inside out. He imagines it's likely Rory feels the same way.

"Honestly I'm probably not the best one to try to explain all this, I've only been here for a little while. I'll tell you what I know, but the people over at the Inn will have more information." He pauses briefly, trying to decide where to start. "Okay, so uh. As far as I know, we all arrived in that fountain. Some people have been here for six months? But nobody's sure how we got here. Or how to get out."

"It's fine," Rory assured him, because honestly was that really something to get upset about in the grand scheme of things? Certainly it wasn't his preferred way of drinking tea, but it would do for now. He just wanted something that was even remotely familiar and the fact that it was warm helped a lot.

"Don't worry about that. I realize I'm more or less imposing on you because you were the first person to actually open their door, but I appreciate what you can tell me," Rory said, thinking he could always get more information at the aforementioned Inn at a later time. But he wasn't at the Inn now and it was too cold to go out right now -- Sonny had already made the tea.

He nodded at Sonny's explanation, "All right. So we're stuck here and we could be for a very long time. Are there any clues about where this is exactly?" He thought about asking 'when' as well, but decided to stick with one problem at a time.

Sonny almost looks pained as he shakes his head. Regrettable, definitely. He wishes he had better news. Something more solid or more useful to share with the village's newcomer. But all he really has is a lot of empty gestures and shrugs and 'I don't know's. He hates not having the answers. He hates feeling like he's sitting idle.

Only, he's not. He's provided Rory with something warm to drink, and heat and shelter away from the cold outside. And that's something. Maybe not a lot, but it's something. He's still making a difference, even here.

"Nothing concrete. There's a river nearby and we're pretty much surrounded by woods. Which could be a million different places, obviously. I mean, I'm from New York — I'm used to skyscrapers. Forests aren't really my thing."

A million different places was an understatement, considering Rory had not only traveled in time but also space. It was very unlimited in terms of possibilities and about the only thing they had narrowed down as that they weren't trapped underwater or in a desert. "Well," he began, "we can narrow it down from anywhere that isn't tropical, deserted, or urban." It was part optimism but mostly dry sarcasm that prompted him to say that. Still, it WAS something...right?

"You know...why is it never tropical paradises people get trapped in? Why does it always have to be bleak places like this," he pondered aloud, probably not helping the conversation, but the thought amused him a little. Maybe if that were the case they'd arrive in Hawaiian print shirts instead of scrubs.

He shook his his head at the image and decided to pursue a different line of questioning, "What about any means of communication?"

Sonny smiles. He can hear the sarcasm in there, but he recognizes the optimism, too. It's true, they can narrow it down a little. And that's good. Even if their narrowing doesn't really help them much in the long run, it's something. And every little bit counts. At least, that's what Sonny keeps telling himself. It keeps him sane.

He laughs, taking a sip of the bitter tea he's starting to grow accustomed to. "Yeah, wouldn't that be nice. Then we could be laying on the beach instead of walking through snow."

But that would be too easy. Too nice. Besides, beach or not, he bets this place is pretty nice when it's warmer out. They seem to do okay with farming, at least, so it must get warm enough. He leans back against the couch, cup still in his lands. "There are none. There's not really any technology around here, so no phones, no e-mail, none of that."

Rory glances skyward, "Probably for the best. I imagine if I was randomly brought to a tropical island there might be something terribly wrong there as well. Snow storms are a littl easier to manage than, say, active volcanoes." After all, there was no way Rory's luck was going to turn around now, right? If this place had been tropical there probably would have been a whole other set of issues to have to cope with and snow at least melted...eventually.

It was going to sound ridiculous, but he had gotten the Doctor's attention with crop circles before. "Have you tried smoke signals or making a message out of rocks to be seen from the air maybe?"

"Do all tropical islands have active volcanoes?" Sonny asks, sounding genuinely curious rather than argumentative. He can't say he's had much reason to do research on tropical islands or active volcanoes, seeing as he was born and raise in New York, and was always far more likely to vacation in Canada rather than anywhere warm and sunny.

It's a shame, too. Coming from New York in late fall to an actual snowstorm hasn't given him much relief, weather wise.

"Um." He blinks, frowning, like he's considering it very seriously. "I don't think so? I don't know if anyone's thought about it, actually. I don't remember seeing any airplanes or anything since I've been here, though."

That's...actually a good question. One that throws Rory for a loop, his forehead wrinkling in thought. "You know...I'm not entirely sure. Probably not? I mean England isn't exactly a tropical island by any stretch of the imagination, but it does have dormant volcanoes--so I don't see why tropical islands couldn't also have dormant volcanoes," he reasons. Most people weren't going to think of England and volcanoes -- but to be fair it wasn't like they were active and hadn't been for millions of years. At least Rory had never had to deal with THAT during his time as a plastic Roman.

Well knowing there hadn't been any airplanes to fly over didn't say much. Either they were somewhere that they didn't exist or perhaps they were flying too fly overhead to see from here. It wasn't like Rory was expecting to find an airport anywhere nearby. "Rocks might not be helpful then...but the smoke signal still could be, you can see that from the ground."

"England has volcanoes?" Clearly, neither of them were very good at their geography. Which is sad, seeing as how much Sonny dedicated himself to his studies when he was in school. To be fair, he doesn't think geography really covered volcanoes in England, but still. He's a little bit disappointed in himself.

That really isn't the point, though.

"I don't remember anybody trying smoke signals yet. I mean, it's worth a shot, right? Anything's worth a shot, at this point."

"Had. Definitely had," Rory emphasizes, not wanting someone to get the wrong idea about England's geography. Although, he supposes technically that it's Scotland he is thinking of -- he just remembers learning that Ediburgh castle was built on the crater of what used to be a volcano. Again, millions of years ago though.

Rory nods at the second question, deciding that's the more important part of this conversation, "Yes. I think we should try everything before deciding something may be useless or pointless. It sounds to me like we never know what might do the trick here."

"Oh, right. Had," he corrects, nodding quickly. "That's good. See, I don't think I could live in northwest, where Washington is and stuff? I remember when Mt. Saint Helens was due to erupt at any time. I couldn't handle that kind of stress."

Which is kind of silly, really, seeing as he's a cop, and deals with all sorts of stress on a daily basis. But at least it's the kind of stress that's always moving and happening, not the kind that involves sitting and waiting.

"I consider myself a pretty logical person, personally, but you sort of have to believe in the impossible here. I mean, we all showed up in a fountain."

Natural disasters are an entirely different kind of stress than the stress of a job. Nursing had its own issues and then of course there was the issues of traveling with the Doctor -- that alone made Rory feel he was capable enough to travel through volcanoes and hurricanes without batting an eye.

"Yeah...and it may get weirder from what you've told me so far and showing up in a fountain isn't exactly the best start."

Rory remembered his tea now and took a sip. It was much colder now, but it was still fairly comforting. "Still. I would guess there are worse places to be stuck."

Sonny's pretty certain that he's not prepared for it to get weirder. Waking up in a oddly deep fountain with no memory of getting there is plenty weird enough for him. He's heard, though, that things have already been weirder. More unexplained memory loss, odd discoveries, sometimes even hallucinations. He's not sure how well he'd handle things like that, truthfully. Not when they're happening to him.

"That's probably true," he agrees thoughtfully. "We could be stuck near an active volcano."

The comment actually prompts a smile out of Rory. He just arrived and it isn't the best of circumstances, but at least he's stuck with someone with a good sense of humor.

"Well. At least then we wouldn't have to deal with this winter," Rory replied. He looked down into his now empty tea mug, setting it aside. "And speaking of which...I am much warmer now thanks to you. I hate to cut this visit short--but I think I'd like to look around this place a little more now that I'm not in danger of freezing to death."

Sonny returns the smile easily. It'd be easy to let this kind of situation get him down, to let it effect his mood in a terribly negative way. But he has practice fighting that sort of thing, thanks to his job. He's good at looking on the bright side, remaining optimistic, and maintaining a good mood. That's not to say this stuff doesn't get to him sometimes, but that he only allows it to happen occasionally.

"Yeah man, totally." Sonny gets to his feet, moving to show Rory the way out, if only out of ingrained politeness. "If you need anything or have any questions, you know where to find me."

Rory followed him to the door, already wondering where to start his search. Could Amy and the Doctor be here? Or River? Or was he now even further from them? There was an obvious place to start of course. Rory picked up his bag that he'd left near the door and put it back on his back.

"Thanks. I'm glad the first person I met was so helpful. I'm sure I'll see you around, Sonny." He bobbed his head in a kind of signal of parting ways, though he had a feeling it wouldn't be for long. He headed back out into the cold with a new purpose and a lot on his mind.

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A New Life...Again

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i think i'm gonna try to wrap this up.

i was thinking the same thing man o/

sweet