After their travels with the Doctor, Amy and Rory never looked at constellations in the sky the same way as they had done before. Though they were stuck living in the past, the sky never really changed from year to year and neither did their memories.
Amy could always remember seeing the stars up close and personal from the open doorway of the TARDIS while Rory saw them through the open fields of ancient Rome, the hazy, smoke-filled nights during the Blitz and high above the glittering skyscrapers of 1930s New York.
His eyes are different. Well to be fair, everything about him is different, that’s rather the point of this process. But this is not about other people’s perception of him, but how he perceives reality: he’d forgotten how many colors the stars could be back in the life that distinguished no colors at all.
The Academy has a set, strict purpose: To train its pupils to become proper Time Lords, destined to follow the laws of Gallifrey to the letter. Non-interference, their age-old policy, is drilled into them at an early age.
There is no lesson, however, on how to handle those who dare to dream of a destiny away from Gallifrey and among the stars, save to brand them as renegades and view them with deep suspicion and thinly-veiled contempt.
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Amy could always remember seeing the stars up close and personal from the open doorway of the TARDIS while Rory saw them through the open fields of ancient Rome, the hazy, smoke-filled nights during the Blitz and high above the glittering skyscrapers of 1930s New York.
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There is no lesson, however, on how to handle those who dare to dream of a destiny away from Gallifrey and among the stars, save to brand them as renegades and view them with deep suspicion and thinly-veiled contempt.
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