flowerbox | Who's that knocking on my TARDIS?

Through all of time and space, the TARDIS flew. On the outside; a blue police box, on the inside; a console room of wood and steel and candles, with buttons and glowing lights all coming together to make a kind of gothic steampunk fantasy.

For the Doctor, this was home.

"Well?" he said, almost absentmindedly fiddling with the switches and the controls on the console. "Where to next, hmm? The reign of Emperor Taizong? The fifth age of the New Savannah? Or maybe...Galsec Seven? What do you think?"

The console's central column pulsed slightly.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, old girl. You can't blame me for a moment of indecision, can you? Billions upon billions of worlds, an untold number of people and places and peculiarities to see...it's a wonder I ever manage to get anywhere at all, with so much to choose from!"

The glow of the TARDIS, quite possibly, took on a slightly pointed edge.

"Oh alright, alright, if you insist! Let's go...oh. Now that's not right."

[[ooc: Okay, the idea here is that any characters tagging in are suddenly arriving in the TARDIS. How they do is up do you: they could just walk in the door, they could just suddenly materialise with no added explanation, they could have been hiding in the swimming pool all this time and have only just decided to show themselves - whatever you like! You can keep it simple or make it some complicated conspiracy, whatever takes your fantasy.

Also, if you need some references - the inside of Eight's TARDIS basically looks like this, and Eight himself looks like this.]]

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The Doctor's visits were incredibly sporadic. She spent months living a boring life to only be swept up in the adventures and ridiculous bow ties of the Doctor's for half a year. It'd been one of the quieter months, where she and Rory lived like regular people, fought like a married couple, and did nothing but think of the adventures they'd once been apart of.

She'd been sitting outside in the yard, on one of the lawn chairs, enjoying a drink, when she'd heard the phone ring. With Rory out, she couldn't quite boss him into answering it, and as the answering machine was a little on the fritz, Amy had to pull herself up from the comfort of the sun pressing against her skin and make her way into her homey little home.

When she crossed the threshold, she found herself looking around in a rather strange room. It felt familiar, even if it didn't look as much. She frowned as she saw the candles and the rather gothic interior. But the sounds that the room was making was something she wouldn't dare question. She could pick it out of a million other similar sounds. He remained out of sight, or at least, that's what she thought. Amy was a little too preoccupied with glancing around the dark insides of the TARDIS to really spot him. "Might want to look into a better interior design," she said.

The Doctor might have been out of sight, but not anymore - his head popped out from around the side of the time rotors, peering at this young woman who had somehow managed to find her way into his TARDIS. "What's wrong with my interior design?" he asked, sounding just a little bit indignant. "I think it's nice. Very atmospheric, don't you think?"

Amy's eyes were immediately drawn to the Doctor, a Doctor she didn't quite recognise, but one that had existed way before her very time. Looking him up and down, she found herself frowning, if only a little. Where was the Doctor? The one with the bowtie and the broken promises he kept in his pocket?

"Very dark and gloomy," she said, for it was. She was used to the bright lights and the pretty, warm colours of the inside of the TARDIS. She wasn't sure she could even see the other end of the wall with how dark and unnatural it looked to her. "Where's the Doctor?"

"Gloomy? Gloomy? It's not gloomy, it's got character, much better than the boring silver walls I use to have, it's...why would you say it's gloomy?" the Doctor said, looking just a little bit disappointed that someone was calling his TARDIS interior gloomy.

"And I'm the Doctor. Where you looking for me?" That would explain why she was here in the TARDIS, certainly, although seeing as he'd never seen her before in all his lives, it was rather odd.

She glanced around, preparing to answer his question on just why his interior design was gloomy when he happened to say the magic word — or something close to it, anyway.

Amy frowned at him. "You're not the Doctor," she said. If there was one thing Amy Pond knew, it was the Doctor. Or so she liked to believe, anyway. He was a bit of a mystery. He was like trying to catch water between her hands. Always impossible to decipher and understand, but she had thought she finally had a good grip on him. "Can't be."

Except … Amy Pond wasn't all that well-read when it came to understanding Time Lords. But considering how River had changed from Mels to the woman who she had come to know as Melody, she looked this man up and down. And felt as though something hard had hit her on the chest. "No … Because if you are, then that means …"

Raggedy Man had somehow gotten himself killed.

"Yes I am," the Doctor countered. "And you, are being very rude, coming into my TARDIS and telling me that I'm not me like this. Do you always wonder in people's homes and tell them that they are impostors?"

It might not be the first time that someone's tried to tell him that he's not the Doctor - Ben was rather dubious when he first regenerated, in fact - but it's not something he's used to from complete strangers, and especially not ones to wander uninvited into his TARDIS.

"That means what?"

Amy didn't understand any of this. Was this Raggedy Man? Like how River had once been Mels, was this now her Doctor? He looked as her as though she were a stranger. She knew that that cut her the deepest, more than the idea of him being —

Well. She wasn't going to think the word. And she wasn't going to respond to his little scolding, either. "If you're him …" she frowned, glancing down. Her arms crossed tightly against her chest as she tried to piece this puzzle she hoped wouldn't form the picture she knew it would together.

Suddenly, she glanced up. She gave him a rather accusing look, pursed lips and a fiercely creased brow, and she matched his scolding tone with one of her own. "If you're the Doctor, why is it you don't remember me?"

"Ah, so you know me!" Yes, of course, that explained her rather odd reaction to him. Pacing back and forwards in front of the console, the Doctor started to explain, although it looked rather like he was almost talking more to himself than to Amy. "Now, why don't I remember you...could be a few reasons. I could have lost some of my memory again. I don't recall losing it, but then, of course, I wouldn't. Or I might not have gotten all of it back from the last time, which is rather an unsettling though. I'd hate to think of what else I might have forgotten too."

Abruptly, the Doctor stopped pacing, right in front of Amy. "But probably I just haven't met you yet. Time travel, it can be very funny like that sometimes. Best not to think too much about it, unless you're a Time Lord. In any case, I think some introductions are in order. I'm the Doctor, as you know, and you are...?"

Perhaps she was experiencing what River Song did on a frequent basis when interacting with her Doctor. She was travelling out of sync with him, meeting him at intervals during his life where he was only beginning to know her while she knew everything there was about him. It made her curious. But, most of all, it made her sad.

"Amy Pond," she said, a beat after he stopped rambling. He talked at a million miles per hour, something she had always found to be a hindrance when conversing with her Raggedy Man, but, now faced with the prospect of never seeing him again, she looked fondly back at it in hindsight. "You visit me once. At night. I was seven. You said you'd be back in five minutes." She crossed her arms against her chest, feeling herself grow irritated, as she always did, when she thought of this. Perhaps this would jog his memory? "I wanted years for you."

Who's that knocking on my TARDIS?

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