#rosetylerdwrp

@rosetylerdwrp

       “ oh! the doctor.  he shows up every now and then here. hard to miss, actually. usually finds me more than i find him, though. he’s…pretty much the only one alive here that isn’t a robot or a test subject. except…well, i guess except for you, now. ” an expression equally as suspicious as it was curious crossed his face.

               ❝ ‘Is it true’ ?❞It was certainly shocking, that question so out of the wild blue like that, and the way it was phrased. Is it true, like there was a reason to lie or like, somehow, the idea of the Doctor being in that much danger was absurd. Both concepts didn’t even hold up long enough to be considered, really. She was considering something, though. She glanced over her shoulder, feigning the concern that he’d overhear in a surreptitious effort to stall. She could feel the weight of eyes on her -with as much presence as the thrum of the TARDIS engines she could feel through the soles of her shoes- and was (uncharacteristically) hesitant to meet them.         ❝I stopped him from getting killed once, yes.❞ Just one time? Maybe more than that. Maybe less. Sometimes it was hard to tell how much danger they were in - she just knew she had acted with the thought in mind at least once. In any case, that almost wasn’t the point- ❝But I haven’t really saved him.❞ Lu looked up.

It wasn’t supposed to come out like she was accusing her or anything. It didn’t take enough to earn the badge for the claim to be challenged. Really, truly, honestly, she was only making an effort because whatever else she might have thought about the woman (and she’d been thinking quite a lot about her), Rose was so glad she - Lu - was there and that he was smiling like that (even if his smile was for somebody else). Relief- it was just relief.

And she was already kicking herself, too, for ever thinking it was exclusively hers in the first place; that it might be lost, just because she was. The universe didn’t stop just because Rose Tyler wasn’t in it. It kept right on going and so did he and that was good - great! It was just great.

And she’d been ready to give the young woman the benefit of the doubt, too, because if she was there at all it meant she was worth that, at least: the benefit of Rose’s doubt (and she’d been doubting quite a lot about her). So if she did not go into it wholeheartedly, it was at least a genuine effort.

And she was genuinely peevish by the end of their very short exchange and didn’t hide it well, though she tried.

“Ok. Well.” A beat. A little laugh, more scoff than amusement escaped her. The worrying at her thumbnail ceased and she crossed her arms. “Thanks.”

(She could throw her own, stupid daggers at stupid, little smirks.)

        Well then. Lu wasn’t blind, she could see the effort being made to..something. Conceal, she assumed, but that was still quite a bit of sting from someone attempting something else. Enough to make Lu’s eyebrows jump sky high for a second, genuinely surprised. Twice Lu went over what she’d said and how she’d said it in her head, searching for a misstep or condescending connotation. Nothing jumped out. Well, then.

        Lu toyed with her jacket sleeve for a moment. Bit her cheek. Found something interesting on the far wall to look at. She had a running list of suspicions, but didn’t want to assume. Didn’t have much choice if they both bit their tongues, though, did she?

        She tried not to bark, she really did. (Well.. maybe not as hard as she should’ve.)

         Lu shook her head, turning back to Rose. Her hands found her hips.

        ❝...Sorry, but..❞ she began, though it wasn’t quite apologetic. ❝“Thanks?” What’s “thanks”?❞ 

//so…I can see this happening two ways. Both would result from his injuries after TDW. 

Actually…there are three ways I could go about this.

1) Malekith’s injuries are so severe slips into a healing coma on Svartalfheim. Time passes, a great stretch of time and when he wakens, his body has healed but his mind is not so fortunate. He cannot remember who he is, much less what and where. While anxious, he is at least among his people; he has no choice but to trust them. Those loyal fill him in as best they can. Others…may take this talk of opportunity for a coup. Start anew and remove their darkened, ailing leader from his crown.In this scenario, he has no one to remind him of his life before. Which actually might alleviate some of the weight he carries around with him. 

2) Same scenario as above but instead of waking up on Svartalfheim he does so on Earth, probably in one of either Torchwood or UNIT’s facilities. You can bet Torchwood is having a field day, running tests and watching him closely. They’ve seen anatomy similar to his only once before, the last time the skies opened and a man from a parallel world saved them from invasion…Malekith knows he does not belong here. He may have no memory but the facility he’s in and the glass/precautions separating them–not to mention the obvious differences in their appearance–tell him he’s got to get out. 

[ SOUNDS AMAZING AND I’M SUPER INTO IT!!! I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner, life has been……..rough.

I finally replied and yes I totally dig the plot. If they’re on a time loop to block something, then we might say that his time sense is fucking up with his memory, his species being so tied to time itself that its rearranging messes up with the timeline his memory uses to keep track of things. maybe that’s why it keeps booting up, like something that needs a hard reset. and if there’s a need of a block, then they could’ve messed up with either a fixed point or created a paradox. maybe that was the only way he could think of to buy time to figure out a better way to save “everyone”. but it backfired. and maybe rose remembers because she’s the center of it.

i’m mostly musing, so you tell me what you think and we take it from there :) I’m so glad to see you back btw!!!

"Who are you...?"

@rosetylerdwrp:

As intimately familiar with pain as the Doctor was, he would not need to remember Rose Tyler to know she was hurting. Nothing sharp, nothing new; the circles under her eyes were old and she was pale in that way humans had when they were very, very tired.

“I’m Rose,” she answered, and there was an ache in her voice. “Rose Tyler. We’re friends. I need you to…

“If you don’t remember anything, yet, just give it a minute; your head should clear up enough for you to remember, you know, the basics.” Not me, she swallowed down, though she searched him for some flicker of anything, anyway. “Your name, that sort of thing. The TARDIS.

“It’s the time loop; it’s making a mess of your head. That, or else… I dunno. We can’t -Something went wrong. …Goes wrong. … I don’t know, Doctor, it just…

“But it clears up a lot, this bit, I promise. Here.” She reached behind her and offered him a mug; tea; steaming hot. “We’ve got a little while, before anything happens.” Tears stung her eyes: she took a sip from her own mug to help herself ignore them. Cleared her throat and offered, cheerfully, “As a bonus,” she laughed, “broke the code for the food replicator! Order anything you like!”  

She paused her busy-making, at last, because she knew – with all the confidence of someone who’d been through it time and time and time again – that he’d be coming out of his fog now, and well enough to offer some reply. “Wouldn’t mind getting this sorted, today,” she told him, conversationally. The grin she offered him did not quite reach her eyes. “If you don’t mind. How d’you feel?”

And if he /had/ known Rose Tyler at all, he’d’ve known she’d been going on and on for his benefit, not hers. She didn’t have to imagine how scared he’d be.

It was a bit of a fuzz, when he came to. Like a bowl of mixed salads that didn’t know its true colors apart from the dressing. Oddly, he realised he was more familiar to that feeling of confusion than to his current surroundings.

Slowly, as though he just woke up from a deep, long slumber, he listened to the woman who was talking to him. He figured that since he couldn’t find anyone else in the room. Not the brightest of observations, but an observation nonetheless. The room was a kitchen---rather a domestic one, at that. Supplies and electronics hinted to that, as well as the whiteware that seemed to be used in pairs; spoons, mugs, dishes, the like. There was a faint humming in the back of his head and---

“Oh!” He gasped, not all intentionally, as his hand flew to the back of his head, to where the sound seemed to bounce from. The TARDIS, his ship, that’s the humming! Hello, he smiled to himself. The machine replied, but as dimly as he felt himself to be. What had almost shown as a surprised smile on his face now dropped to a deep-musing expression, hand going back to hold his chin, and again he voiced it out unconsciously. “Hm...” Something must’ve happened, he reckoned.

Before he could concentrate on that for long, however, his eyes discovered yet another thing. The woman that had been talking to him, she was still there. And she did not look well. Clear signs of exhaustion and emotional distress were written all over her, despite what he now truly processed as encouraging words. Sadly, as she’d pointed out, he had no idea who she was.

But, even if that were the case, he didn’t exactly enjoy leaving people to be upset. No, no, that needed to be fixed.

With a deep breath, his demeanor changed with the same seamless flow, with the ease of someone who might’ve misplaced a shoe. “Feel? Well. Feeling is a broad spectre. But it’s safe to say I don’t feel bad. Anything more than that, though, I’m drawing blanks. Which, to be perfectly honest, I’m more used to than most people would say, and I should know better than to sound proud about it, or so I’ve been told. Being this old gets to you. There was a period two lifetimes ago where I lost my memory once a week! Drove everyone bonkers, especially me.”

He waited to see if his joke lightened up the mood, holding his gaze on hers with one brow high to make the joke even more obvious.

“Luckily, this time I do remember those ‘basics’. I am the Doctor, I am over a thousand years old---lost count well over that, actually---, and this is my TARDIS. Am I correct?”

Still going on as if this weren’t something more than an exceptionally minor issue, the Doctor found the tea the woman had given him and took a few sips. It was sweet and had a very strong scent, nevermind that it was in a mug instead of a propper cup, but his tastebuds seemed to really enjoy it. He made note of it, but nothing more.