For some reason, “weddings” seem to be a thematic element in Amy and Rory’s travels with the Doctor. The Doctor seems (for the most part) thrilled with the fact that they’re married as long as they don’t talk about the things that married people do, and is happy to show that off to all of the people they meet. See. Those two. They’re married.
Still, it isn’t just the Williams’ obvious marriage that is the starring feature of their time as companions. They also crash a lot of weddings, inadvertently find themselves in them (Rory is still not over Henry VIII), never mind the Doctor’s own wedding to River Song.
This wedding, however, is a bit different.
The problem with the TARDIS translation matrix is that it doesn’t always translate everything. Some things they are forced to rely on the Doctor for and sometimes his translations can be … unreliable. In this particular instance, it’s one of those languages like “baby” or “horse” where only the Doctor knows exactly what they’re saying, and for the moment, Rory is happy to leave it that way. It’s hard to decipher the nuance that comes with this particular species when their facial expressions aren’t all that clear.
The Hundorians are odd, blob like creatures, with nubile stalks over their head. They communicate through gestures, similar to languages like sign language, and while the translation matrix can handle written or spoken word, it can be a bit lost on the nonverbal. Regardless, the Doctor insists on his expertise in the language, and charges forward into the fray.
“Big one weddings, the Hundorians! You’re all married, you love a good wedding, don’t you?”
“Just because we’re married doesn’t mean we need to attend every wedding, Doctor,” Amy points out petulantly as the Doctor talks back and forth with the Hundorians, most likely trying to obtain the location of said wedding from the locals. “But it’s your TARDIS.” Then there’s a huff. “We’re never going to make it to Rio.”
“You never know,” Rory quips before the Doctor reaches out to grab his wrist.
“Quick, Rory, I need an extra set of arms.” That statement is followed by him putting Rory into ridiculous poses in an effort to communicate, and Rory goes along with it while the Hundorian they’re speaking to seems to grow more and more excited by the prospect. Eventually, it reaches forward, taking a wrist in each of their hands and pulling them away. The Doctor goes easily and Rory shrugs before following his lead as the Doctor shouts back at Amy. “Come on, Amy! Time to go see a wedding.”
“You know what I would love more? A wedding in Rio!” She follows, however, if for no other reason than the fact that she probably wouldn’t fare well all by herself with no translator.
When they reach what looks like the Hundorian version of a chapel, Rory and the Doctor are separated, dragged into separate rooms where they’re “freshened up” as the Doctor called it. Rory seems a bit confused by it all but … well, alright, his clothes probably aren’t the best for a wedding, so he wouldn’t mind dressing a little nicer and … oh, those flowers are nice. Amy’ll probably like them. It’s not long after that, that he’s pushed right to the front of the chapel, standing up in front of a crowd full of people, including his wife, and he frowns.
“Isn’t this normally where the … ” The Doctor is pushed out a few minutes later, similarly cleaned up, but sans flowers, and Rory blinks for a moment, before looking back at the rest of the room. “Doctor?”
“Yes, Rory?”
“Why does it seem like we’re the ones getting married here?”
There’s a long pause as the Doctor surveys the situation, and then he glances to the minister who is starting to begin the ceremony, while the screen above them begins to translate the words of the ceremony for those who can’t see in the back of the room. The written Hundorian words slowly indicate that there is a clear misunderstanding here.
“Wait, wait, no, I’m already married.” He reaches over to grab Amy’s hand and pulls her up with him. “To her. Also why am I the bride?”
The Doctor is in the process of translating, before glancing over his shoulder to Rory. “Perhaps they thought you had more delicate features.”
“Delicate?”
“Oh, relax, Rory,” Amy sighs as she takes the flowers from him, bringing them up to her nose to inhale their scent. “It could have been worse.”
“Yes. I’m sure it could have been much worse than marrying my son-in-law.”
“Oh, enough of that. You really need to learn to look on the bright side.”
“And how is that?”
“Now you can stop giving me trouble for marrying Henry VIII.”
well i know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go ~ doctor who ~ 807 words
Still, it isn’t just the Williams’ obvious marriage that is the starring feature of their time as companions. They also crash a lot of weddings, inadvertently find themselves in them (Rory is still not over Henry VIII), never mind the Doctor’s own wedding to River Song.
This wedding, however, is a bit different.
The problem with the TARDIS translation matrix is that it doesn’t always translate everything. Some things they are forced to rely on the Doctor for and sometimes his translations can be … unreliable. In this particular instance, it’s one of those languages like “baby” or “horse” where only the Doctor knows exactly what they’re saying, and for the moment, Rory is happy to leave it that way. It’s hard to decipher the nuance that comes with this particular species when their facial expressions aren’t all that clear.
The Hundorians are odd, blob like creatures, with nubile stalks over their head. They communicate through gestures, similar to languages like sign language, and while the translation matrix can handle written or spoken word, it can be a bit lost on the nonverbal. Regardless, the Doctor insists on his expertise in the language, and charges forward into the fray.
“Big one weddings, the Hundorians! You’re all married, you love a good wedding, don’t you?”
“Just because we’re married doesn’t mean we need to attend every wedding, Doctor,” Amy points out petulantly as the Doctor talks back and forth with the Hundorians, most likely trying to obtain the location of said wedding from the locals. “But it’s your TARDIS.” Then there’s a huff. “We’re never going to make it to Rio.”
“You never know,” Rory quips before the Doctor reaches out to grab his wrist.
“Quick, Rory, I need an extra set of arms.” That statement is followed by him putting Rory into ridiculous poses in an effort to communicate, and Rory goes along with it while the Hundorian they’re speaking to seems to grow more and more excited by the prospect. Eventually, it reaches forward, taking a wrist in each of their hands and pulling them away. The Doctor goes easily and Rory shrugs before following his lead as the Doctor shouts back at Amy. “Come on, Amy! Time to go see a wedding.”
“You know what I would love more? A wedding in Rio!” She follows, however, if for no other reason than the fact that she probably wouldn’t fare well all by herself with no translator.
When they reach what looks like the Hundorian version of a chapel, Rory and the Doctor are separated, dragged into separate rooms where they’re “freshened up” as the Doctor called it. Rory seems a bit confused by it all but … well, alright, his clothes probably aren’t the best for a wedding, so he wouldn’t mind dressing a little nicer and … oh, those flowers are nice. Amy’ll probably like them. It’s not long after that, that he’s pushed right to the front of the chapel, standing up in front of a crowd full of people, including his wife, and he frowns.
“Isn’t this normally where the … ” The Doctor is pushed out a few minutes later, similarly cleaned up, but sans flowers, and Rory blinks for a moment, before looking back at the rest of the room. “Doctor?”
“Yes, Rory?”
“Why does it seem like we’re the ones getting married here?”
There’s a long pause as the Doctor surveys the situation, and then he glances to the minister who is starting to begin the ceremony, while the screen above them begins to translate the words of the ceremony for those who can’t see in the back of the room. The written Hundorian words slowly indicate that there is a clear misunderstanding here.
“Wait, wait, no, I’m already married.” He reaches over to grab Amy’s hand and pulls her up with him. “To her. Also why am I the bride?”
The Doctor is in the process of translating, before glancing over his shoulder to Rory. “Perhaps they thought you had more delicate features.”
“Delicate?”
“Oh, relax, Rory,” Amy sighs as she takes the flowers from him, bringing them up to her nose to inhale their scent. “It could have been worse.”
“Yes. I’m sure it could have been much worse than marrying my son-in-law.”
“Oh, enough of that. You really need to learn to look on the bright side.”
“And how is that?”
“Now you can stop giving me trouble for marrying Henry VIII.”