||13|| [Audio]
I still remember it. Most of it. It didn’t go away after everything came back. And, yes, I know I’m being cryptic, but that’s on purpose because I actually really don’t want to talk about this but I don’t think I can stop talking until I do. Properly. Which is typical.
I died. I mean, once. Properly. I was actually really dead. Not just…dead in a dream, or nearly dead, or clinically dead for 10 seconds. I was shot, and then I died, and then I sort of never existed.
Doctor? Can you stop me, please, or cut the signal or…
There were these cracks. Cracks in space and time and Doctor, you really shouldn’t be listening to this. Amy had one in her room when she was a kid, and there was one right beside where I was shot, and I was sucked into it, or something. I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly alive for that part. Only then I woke up in Ancient Britain as an Ancient Roman and it was…really confusing. Because I remembered being Roman. I have my whole childhood there in my head, even though it didn’t happen, but it’s there, all my memories of…Roman…life, and Roman…stuff. [In Latin.] I can still... I can speak like this if I concentrate. [In English again.] My name was Gaius Valerius Constantius…Nasica and I was a Centurion, a really young one, actually, but I was really good and had an important family-which is ridiculous, really, because I was rubbish in gym class, but I had to be good, because I had to be a centurion. Because Amy remembered me being a centurion. It was just fancy dress for a party, and Amy fancied Romans, so I went as one.
It wasn’t even real, though. I wasn’t real. I was me, and then I was also Roman in my head, but I was actually a plastic robot thing. An Auton. And I… There was… I….
Amy didn’t remember me. We were engaged, before I was erased from time, and then she didn’t remember me at all. The Doctor did, but Amy…I dunno, I was just another soldier to her at the start. But I had to push it, I mean, the Doctor encouraged me but it was my fault, I wanted her to remember me. [He sighs. He’s starting to sound really unhappy.] So I sort of…came and talked to her, and she was happy and didn’t know why, and it was almost alright, and then they switched off the Roman, sort of, or switched on the Auton and they controlled me. The Nestene Consciousness. And then I shot Amy.
I don’t want to talk anymore. It’s not…I’ve said enough. I’m sorry.
I have it in my head, though. There was a way to save Amy, keeping her in…this box, and we had to wait until she could touch it in the future, when she was seven. So I stayed to make sure nothing happened to her. I wasn’t human, really, and I had to. It was my fault she was there at all. I’m 21 physically but….behind a sort of door in my head, there’s 1900 years of memory, and experience and I usually keep it shut but the City isn’t letting me, today. I just…I don’t…
I’m sorry.
[ooc: Rory is cursed with My Dirty Little Secret today, cursed to talk about ALL 1915 YEARS as the Lone Centurion. Ask him anything. NO REALLY. He will have to answer. And I will, of course, try my VERY HARDEST but I am not even close to being a History major. So mistakes are my fault, not Rory's. Pretend he didn't make them. Or correct me. He posted this at a reasonable time in the morning, too. Forward-dated. I'm just worried I'll sleep in too late.]
I died. I mean, once. Properly. I was actually really dead. Not just…dead in a dream, or nearly dead, or clinically dead for 10 seconds. I was shot, and then I died, and then I sort of never existed.
Doctor? Can you stop me, please, or cut the signal or…
There were these cracks. Cracks in space and time and Doctor, you really shouldn’t be listening to this. Amy had one in her room when she was a kid, and there was one right beside where I was shot, and I was sucked into it, or something. I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly alive for that part. Only then I woke up in Ancient Britain as an Ancient Roman and it was…really confusing. Because I remembered being Roman. I have my whole childhood there in my head, even though it didn’t happen, but it’s there, all my memories of…Roman…life, and Roman…stuff. [In Latin.] I can still... I can speak like this if I concentrate. [In English again.] My name was Gaius Valerius Constantius…Nasica and I was a Centurion, a really young one, actually, but I was really good and had an important family-which is ridiculous, really, because I was rubbish in gym class, but I had to be good, because I had to be a centurion. Because Amy remembered me being a centurion. It was just fancy dress for a party, and Amy fancied Romans, so I went as one.
It wasn’t even real, though. I wasn’t real. I was me, and then I was also Roman in my head, but I was actually a plastic robot thing. An Auton. And I… There was… I….
Amy didn’t remember me. We were engaged, before I was erased from time, and then she didn’t remember me at all. The Doctor did, but Amy…I dunno, I was just another soldier to her at the start. But I had to push it, I mean, the Doctor encouraged me but it was my fault, I wanted her to remember me. [He sighs. He’s starting to sound really unhappy.] So I sort of…came and talked to her, and she was happy and didn’t know why, and it was almost alright, and then they switched off the Roman, sort of, or switched on the Auton and they controlled me. The Nestene Consciousness. And then I shot Amy.
I don’t want to talk anymore. It’s not…I’ve said enough. I’m sorry.
I have it in my head, though. There was a way to save Amy, keeping her in…this box, and we had to wait until she could touch it in the future, when she was seven. So I stayed to make sure nothing happened to her. I wasn’t human, really, and I had to. It was my fault she was there at all. I’m 21 physically but….behind a sort of door in my head, there’s 1900 years of memory, and experience and I usually keep it shut but the City isn’t letting me, today. I just…I don’t…
I’m sorry.
[ooc: Rory is cursed with My Dirty Little Secret today, cursed to talk about ALL 1915 YEARS as the Lone Centurion. Ask him anything. NO REALLY. He will have to answer. And I will, of course, try my VERY HARDEST but I am not even close to being a History major. So mistakes are my fault, not Rory's. Pretend he didn't make them. Or correct me. He posted this at a reasonable time in the morning, too. Forward-dated. I'm just worried I'll sleep in too late.]