entrancelogs | VALENTINE'S DAY CATCH ALL 12th-17th

VALENTINE'S DAY CATCH ALL 12th-17th

Who: Anyone and everyone who wants to participate
Where: Literally every corner of the known universe
When: Again with the questions...
Rating: BIG BIG HORRIBLE WARNING LOTS OF DEATH AND FIGHTING AND GRAPHIC EVERYTHING I think you might need an adult...
Summary:

THIS IS A CATCH ALL LOG FOR THE DURATION OF THIS SITUATION

Here's what happens. If you want interaction with HARRY OR TOM, if you want to have a short thread with someone discovering a BODY or someone who is WOUNDED or generally just want some blood and guts it happens in here.

THAT BEING SAID if you want to write a log? Do it. I'm just trying to control the madness in one place...as if that might be easier to manage. It also means the community isn't TOO flooded with bodies and boxes of chocolate so those wanting to bypass this event will have less to look at.

IF YOU ARE A VICTIM, YOU MAY POST YOUR DEATH POST IN HERE
I mean, you can if you want but also feel free to make an independent post. Up to you.

Comment in with a header including date and place for whatever situation you're doing so we can just keep track. I'll do the same.

Questions, comments, plurk or aim or pm me. x

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Even as she's thinking about it, the Doctor just sits there, still with that smile that seems to be widening by the second, waiting for her to do or say something. They usually do, in the end, whether it's to express confusion or excitement or distrust. In situations like this, there's usually something to be said, and it's the unpredictability of it all that he likes. Every person is different after all, and this ginger-haired girl seems to be no exception to that.

And speaking of ginger hair, it's just then that he realizes she is ginger, which, among other things, endears her to him rather quickly. "Oh, you wanted to be a doctor or nurse as well?" That explains how she knows Martha, or at least he thinks it does. "Well, come on, then, let's see how you do."

No pressure, of course, Amy. It's not like he's a real doctor, after all, even if he maintains that he's a doctor of everything.

She looks up at his question of her wanting to be a doctor or nurse. There's some hesitation before she replies- how do you tell someone that you grew up hoping they'd come back for you, wishing against wish that they'd take you from your life and show you the stars like they promised? He was her idol for so long, her world for so many years. And here he's thinking that she's competent enough to be a proper nurse. She offers him a smile.

"It's my husband that's the nurse. I'm- well never mind that. Used to pretend you'd come and rescue me, show me what the universe had to offer like you promised. Took you a bit to make good on that."

She grabs a stack of gauze and that bandagey looking material and presses it against the ugly hole near his collarbone. "Hold this," she instructs as she unwraps some tape and tears at it with her teeth.

Well, it makes sense to him, even though he's still unaware just how connected she is to Martha, but the more important thing is, she has a connection with the Doctor, one of his other selves, and someone who, from his point of view, has yet to enter the picture.

"Oh, so you're married, are you?" His smile widens at that. He likes it when people are happy, and he certainly hopes that she is. "But I did come for you eventually, right? There's so much to see out there, and it would be a shame if you never got a chance to see it all." He hopes he kept his word, or else she's probably gotten a nasty image of him if he didn't.

Doing as she says, he takes the gauze and the material and holds it there with one hand. It's really so inconvenient, this business of being injured. If he has anything to say about it, he'll try and avoid it in the future, because once is bad enough.

"Been married a couple of years or so now. Kind of nice having someone traveling with me and hi-you..." Time's funny when you spend most of it in the TARDIS and don't have to worry about timelines. She still finds it hard to reconcile the different faces into one person, though.

She stretches the tape over the bandages. "That should do for now. What's next? Ah, yes." She just casually as can be opens his shirt to expose the gash. She might not have gotten the lesson about gently peeling it away so it doesn't hurt like hell, though. "And it only took you twelve years to show up again. Two more after that before you took me with you." Okay, so maybe she's being a bit rougher than need be. She still is a bit upset about that, years later.

"Oh, lovely. That's just brilliant. And yeah, would be kind of nice to have someone else come along for the ride." He doesn't even notice the little slip; this has to be strange for her, all things considered.

"These days, it's just Martha who comes along with me. It's alright, though, and she and I get along well enough-" He breaks off as the fabric peels away, gritting his teeth to keep from letting out a protesting noise. "She's brilliant too, you know," he adds on when he finally gets his breath back. "Sorry about taking so long, though. I can't say I know what took me that long, since, well... It was a different me."

Amy offers him a small smile. "Something about the engines going out. He crash landed in my backyard when I was a girl."

She examines his wound before deciding that this one probably doesn't need as much padding as the other. Not that she's really a good judge about this stuff. She places some more gauze against his wound. "I'm sure Martha would be a sight better at this than I am. You'd think I would have picked something up what with Rory being a nurse and all. I just never thought I'd have to..."

She doesn't meet his eyes when she says that, doesn't want to admit to the man that isn't yet but one day will become her best friend that she's lonely here and missing home something fierce. Instead, she fixes her mind on the task at hand, sorting through all the material she's grabbed.

That makes him laugh just a hair too exuberantly, but he doesn't care. Not that crash-landing the TARDIS is a good thing, but after so many times of nearly doing just that, he's grown used to the sensation, and it tickles him just a little, knowing it's not only limited to him.

"It does seem like something that happens often. Now that I think about it, deciding not to attend that lesson on time-travel proficiency may well have something to do with it." But at the time, he had other things to do, and sitting in on a class hadn't seemed terribly important.

"But really, you're doing beautifully." He supposes it can't be easy, patching him up, but really, she's doing a fine job. There's only one thing that concerns him about this scenario. "I wonder where Martha's gotten off to, though." It still seems strange that she isn't here, although he guesses she has a reason for it.

He focuses his attentions back on her, though, because something in her face is suggesting a bit of unhappiness. "Are you all right?" She doesn't look it, all of a sudden, which prompts him to inquire after her.

His question catches her off guard. He's just as perceptive as the man she knows. She scrunches her brows together before standing up quickly. "What? Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay? I mean you're the one with the gaping wounds." She begins opening cupboards again, rifling through them as a means of distraction than actually trying to find anything. Flustered and out of sorts, she stands and stares at the contents of one of the cupboards for a moment too long before she catches herself. She needs a second to compose herself, and what better way than pretending to look for something in the back?

"Gonna just check back here and see if-" the words die on her lips as soon as she crosses the threshold into the other room. She's frozen in place as she stares at Martha's body. She lets out a choked noise before she finds the ability to move again. When she does, she hurries to the table, her hand covering her mouth.

"Oh, well, I don't know, you just seemed a little bothered," he replies, still watching her with a vaguely concerned but confused expression. As for the gaping wounds, they aren't really bothering him very much, not anymore. Time Lords heal rather quickly, and of course, Amy's efforts to dress them are helping that along. "Right, gaping wounds that are already starting to be less gaping." He assumes she knows that bit about Time Lords and how quickly they can bounce back from things.

But he watches her turn away to go dig around the nearest cupboard, not making any further comments for the moment, because clearly, something is on her mind, and if she needs time to collect herself, why begrudge her that?

When he notices her stop mid-sentence, he can't help but ask: "Everything all right over there?" People don't just break off for no reason. But clearly everything's not all right, if her sudden shift in demeanor is anything to go off of. So he moves from where he's sitting, ignoring the dots of blood showing up on the gauze Amy's just fastened to his side, to have a look for himself.

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing Martha laid out, clearly dead, and cut up much worse than he'd been. He forgets about himself, about the chat he was just having, and every thought is focused on taking in Martha's appearance and wondering (raging might be a better word) who did this.

For a moment, it seems as if all power of speech has left him, but then he opens his mouth and just one word quietly comes out.

"No."

Amy doesn't know what to do with herself. One of her dearest friends, the one she always knows she could count on, is dead. The second friend in as many weeks. Knowing that Martha should return doesn't soften the blow. Amy touches Martha's cold shoulder and let's out a strangled noise. Death in Wonderland is just as real as back home.

Unable to see Martha like this, Amy turns towards the door, stumbling to the desk. Still shell-shocked, she sits hard on the edge and something behind her clicks together. Her hand goes to set it right when she notices it's a pill bottle with odd looking pills inside. Her face goes white when she realizes they are little candy hearts. She throws them onto the table where they fall to the ground and roll beneath the desk.

She watches the Doctor's back carefully. He too must be in pain. He probably knows Martha better than she does. While she knew how to comfort her Doctor, this one...he isn't quite the same. So she waits for a cue from him.

The Doctor doesn't know what to do with himself either. Standing there, taking in the terrible, absolutely horrible sight of Martha's body is more than he can take. Oh, he's seen the dead before; he's seen people he knows die, and he's always been able to take it in stride, at least to an extent. But for some reason that he doesn't quite understand, Martha's death feels different than those others.

He doesn't even hear Amy's stumbling about in the background, nor does the sound of the candy hearts spilling out draw his attention. Martha's dead, she's been murdered, and he wasn't able to stop it. He reaches out to touch Martha's face, and he almost pulls back, recoiling when he realizes just how cold she is.

The Doctor doesn't turn around; he can't, not with his gaze still riveted on Martha's still face. When he finally speaks, it's low and hard and indicative of the rage that's threatening to spill over. "Whoever's done this cannot be allowed to get away with it."

If he could go out there right now, find the killer, and then- Well, he doesn't know what he would do. To kill him in return might be deserved, but even with the anger he's feeling, he can't quite reconcile that as an option. But it's such a temptation, especially as he looks at Martha lying there.

He doesn't move, still doesn't turn, but his hand clenches together tightly as he tries to sort out his conflicting thoughts and feelings.

Amy notices the tension across his shoulders, the tightness of his fists. She knows that his words are dark and lead down a path he rarely ever follows. She swallows hard at that realization. Unlike her own Doctor, she doesn't know how to stop that anger. She doesn't know the words and actions it takes to pull him back to the brink. A part of her isn't sure she even wants to stop it.

That thought stops her cold. What has always set them apart from monsters is their ability to reason and empathize, to rise above the darkness of revenge and hate. In all her years of travel, there haven't been many monsters. The Daleks, the angels, but rarely ever humans.

Whatever is causing all of this, that is the monster. Not them. Resolute now, Amy steps up to the Doctor's side and places a hand on his arm. "They won't. Not if everyone here has anything to say about it. One way or another, we'll set this right."

The only thing he can think about, other than his rage directed at whoever the killer might be, is that he's glad Martha's mother isn't here to see this. For one thing, she would never forgive him, and assuming that she's cut from the same cloth as Martha, she wouldn't rest until she found a way to have her revenge.

The tension in his shoulders doesn't let up as he keeps staring at Martha, wishing that he could somehow undo this, and change things so that it never happened. But he can't; he can't even take everyone away from this place. He's every bit as trapped as the rest of them, and he's not used to that at all.

If he could, if he hadn't already been on the receiving end of the man with the axe, he'd go right out there and track him down and-

It's hard to know what he'd do, but it's almost painfully clear to him that something has to be done, whether it's imprisonment or something far more drastic and final.

Amy's hand on his arm, and the words she says slowly penetrate his thoughts, and he manages to bring himself back to the present. "We shouldn't have to set this right. This should never have happened. I should have been paying more attention."

And now Martha's dead, and he wasn't even there to try and stop it.

At his words, she recognizes the feelings of her Doctor. The need to make everything better, the ridiculous amount of responsibility he feels every time anything goes wrong. And all the affection, all the pain of missing her best friend wells up inside of her. She stands next to him, carefully looking at his face.

"You can't be everywhere at once, Doctor. Especially not here. Sometimes everything's good and there's nothing you can do but keep an eye on things. Other times, things sneak up on us until it's too late to do anything but try to keep those who haven't been harmed safe. I know it must be difficult to see Martha like this, but you mustn't blame yourself. She wouldn't want that."

He forces himself to look away from Martha and focus on Amy's face, because if he looks at her for even one more minute, he knows he won't be able to control in the anger that's threatening to spill over. There's no one to direct it towards, not right now, and he'd rather not have Amy get caught up in that mess.

"Do you know, Amy, what I'm thinking right now?" It's an odd question; of course she doesn't. She's never traveled with him, never even met him before today. But he feels like, maybe, if this weren't Wonderland, if they weren't trapped, he'd offer to take her along with him. Don't ask him why he feels that way, but there is something about her that makes him think she'd be a great person to have along.

"I'm thinking about her mother and how terribly angry she'd be with me for allowing this to happen." Martha's mother never seemed to like him that much anyway, and if she knew about this (thankfully the chances of that are slim), she'd most likely have his head on a platter. "It doesn't matter that I can't be everywhere. I should have been here, and I wasn't."

And yes, he is blaming himself, even though he knows Martha would hate him for it. She'd probably slap him for it, too, but he can't help it.

He did fail her, and he failed her family. But, in the midst of all his blaming, one thing registers in his mind. Those who are still alive and not hurt need to be protected, and that is something he can try to do.

"You are right about one thing, though. There are still things that I can do here, even if I can't do them for Martha."

Amy presses her lips together, knowing full well that the Doctor feels the very last ripples of every action. As much as she wants to stay close to the Doctor, knows that there's safely near him, she knows he needs his space. She'll keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble, but being here for him like this...it's too much for both of them.

"You have my number if you need anything. But I think it's best for both of us to think this over. I'll go back to my room and lock the door." And stay in there mostly for the rest of the event. The best she can, at least.

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VALENTINE'S DAY CATCH ALL 12th-17th

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