Post by The Tenth Doctor on Jul 20, 2021 18:29:38 GMT
The Tenth Doctor,
"I’m the Doctor and you are in the biggest library in the universe. Look me up."
✧ THE BASICS,
ALIASES. John Smith. There are a couple of other names, but he doesn't use them himself.
AGE. about 800
DOB. In what calender?
TIME OF ORIGIN. A time before the time war, almost lost from memory now.
PLACE/PLANET OF ORIGIN. Gallifrey
OCCUPATION. Depends on the occasion. I mean, the name is a hint. Or a hobby. Traveller, explorer? „Meddler“ is a word some people like to use. Or maybe just running away.
APPEARANCE. Tall and slender („skinny“ if you ask Donna), with brown eyes and equally brown, semi-short and usually touseld hair. He manages to make a suit and tie look casual, probably because neither of the two fit properly and even a tux only ever gets paired with sneakers. Oh, and there’s the long beige trench coat which is typically worn or not with total disregard of the weather conditions.
FACE CLAIM. David Tennant
✧ THE DEPTH,
PERSONALITY. The Doctor in his tenth incarnation is still the same at his core as he has always been. Curious, generous, caring, and protective. He also has a tendency to at the same time take himself too seriously and show total disregard for his personal dignity. Moments of clear arrogant condescension might quickly be followed by a playful curiosity that can only be called childish.
He loves tinkering, fixing things, learning about the universe and about life, and he absolutely loves to hear himself talk.
But beneath all that is a more hardened individual who is no stranger to tough choices. Sometimes, just sometimes, that part of him comes out, and in those moments he might even appear cold and aloof.
BIOGRAPHY. In retrospect the Tenth Doctor’s life started because of the best thing of all: saving Rose. Maybe if he’s known how much he would come to care for her, and the heartache that inevitably followed, his old self might hat hesitated for a moment. But only for a moment. Maybe. Taking all the vortex energy out of her and into himself killed him, but for a Timelord that often means a rebirth.
The new regeneration was not as much of a trauma and confusing experience as it could be. He still had Rose, and together they steadily grew closer as they continued the journey through time and space.
Rose’s boyfriend Mickey joined them, but soon left to stay in a parallel world to mop up the last of the Cybermen and be there for the grandmother he found to be still alive there. While Rose’s father was also alive in that world, Rose left with the Doctor.
At one time in Victorian times the duo had inadvertently caused the foundation of Torchwood, an organization they ran into in an altered 21st century during a visit with her mother. Rose now had a mother in one reality, and a father in the other, but the other universe was closed for them, or so they thought. In fact, the walls between the two realities had been eroded, one one side by experiments conducted by Torchwood, and special teleportation devices on the other.
The resulting battle agains Cybermen crossing over and Daleks returning from the Void cost many lives, but for the Doctor it cost him Rose. When the walls closed again between the dimensions all of the Tylers were on the other side, and all he could do was send one final (it seemed) message of farewell.
He might have wallowed for a while, but almost instantly, he met Donna, and Martha, and kept himself busy showing first one then the other the universe. During that time he even had a Daughter, met Captain Jack again, and the greatest enigma of all: River Song. They all kept him sane and centered and brought friendship and joy, but they also were a constant reminder of the fleetingness of life. Even another encounter with the Master was filled with both relief and sorrow.
When he got the prophecy concerning his own impending death, he rebelled, as he always rebelled against death and destruction, but all those companions gone now, the decline was inevitable. Fate, he learned the hard way, will alway catch up one way or the other.
OTHER/MEDICAL INFORMATION. He has a TARDIS and a sonic screwdriver and takes speed reading to a whole new level. Despite not thinking twice about climbing the weirdest and highest structures in the heat of the moment when need calls, he actually doesn’t like heights very much.
His cardiovascular respiratory system is more sturdy than in a human due to the extra heart and respiratory bypass. Acetylsalicylic acid is a deadly poison, though.
SAMPLE. Finally, right in front of him, there it was, tucked between the walls of a narrow alley that had been blocked off halfway back by another brick wall about a hundred years ago: the source of the energy signal that he had been following halfway across town.
No one had been paying very much attention to the now half-crumbled wall, or the alley, nor even the junk-filled space in general since then, and except for a few pub-goers stumbling in once in a while on their way home to urinate against said wall, no one ever came here. It was the perfect hiding place, a perfect spot to park a spaceship.
The man stared. He called himself The Doctor, his true name forgotten by all but a few, something he like to keep that way. He was stall, slender with a strong tendency toward skinny, with dark hair plastered against his face by the unceasing drizzle of rain, wearing a blue suit and long brown coat thrown loosely over it in a way that did not even attempt to truly keep the rain out.
In front of him stood a wooden box. It was blue, with white sign on one side of the front door, announcing that this was a police telephone, free for public use, with the words „pull to open“ in all caps on the bottom. All in all, it did not look like a spaceship. It also was completely out of place in 2009, when those 1939 police boxes had simply all be decommissioned decades ago.
H sighed, once again studied the readouts on the sonic screwdriver in his hand, then shut it off and returned it to the pocket in his jacket. For the millionth time, he made a mental note to really, really some day fix the ship’s chameleon circuit, knowing full well that he probably never would. Because, against all odds, this was his ship, almost definitely.
As if for a last test, he tentatively raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The lock of the box sprang open and the door swung ever so slightly inward. Yes, definitely his TARDIS. The only problem was, he hadn’t parked it here.
HIS TARDIS, the one he had arrived in, was parked across the Thames, at the back of jumbled mess of a warehouse, safely locked and secured. And, well, *this* TARDIS - he carefully stepped closer and pushed the door open, looked a great bit more battered than when last he’d seen her. The paint was faded, with a lot more cracks, and the sign, though still legible, was faded even more.
He probably should be careful. Creating paradoxes was dangerous business, and if he ran into himself .. „Well, the universe might explode, or just I go zip. But where’s the fun without a bit of danger now and then.“
In this moment on this day especially, being alone, with all of the loneliness of his existence pressing down on him without a comrade at his side to curb his impulses, he dismissed the thought of caution even quicker than usual. Danger was fine. Inaction was what got him in trouble most of the time. Besides, the TARDIS usually knew what she was doing, and she had opened up for him.
„Oh, you’ve re-decorated.“ The doctor closed the door and strode up toward the center console. „I don’t like it.“
And for once it was true. The TARDIS changed all the time, along with him, in sync with him, but this here, this looked like a patchwork of designs from earlier incarnation of the room. Even the controls did not seem to make sense. In one spot there were three flux compensator in a row, but no sign of any gravity dampers anywhere, not to mention a proper time rotor.
As the Doctor stepped around the console, frowning, his hands started stroking the edge of the console in that habitual caress. The ship lurched, and he grabbed for the rail which completely failed to be in its customary place, and a quickly following second lurch put him flat on his back on the metal grid of the floor. „Whoah, easy girl!“
That TARDIS had never been the easiest ship to fly, and she had only developed more of an eccentric personality over the years. It usually wasn’t something the Doctor worried about. If you got into a living ship, you’d better be prepared to accept some independent decision making. And lurching seemed to be the TARDIS’ favorite way of letting him know she was cross with him in some way. Or some circuit had gotten loose again, connection broken. Not even the most sophisticated of time machines were immune to the wear and tear of those many many years. If he was old, she could be called a fossil - not that he would ever dare to think that!
The Doctor rolled over with a practiced move and dug his fingers into the grid for better support as he crawled back toward the console, but even that proved difficult. For a moment, they even lost gravity, or rather seemed to have it going all over for a split second. „What’s wrong with you?“
And then, as suddenly as it had started, the movement stopped, the lights went out, and there was silence.
He groaned, disentangled his fingers from the grid and rolled over onto his back again to gasp for some air. It did not take a genius to sense that the situation was highly worrisome, but he’d deal with that in a moment, once his hands managed to unclench. „Seriously?“
„Doctor?“ There was a dim light coming through the glass panels on the door, just enough to see by, and there was someone out there calling for him. „Doctor!“
In a flash, he was on his feet, down the ramp and through the door. Behind him, the door uncharacteristically swung shut, but he did not notice. He was staring.
✧ THE PLAYER,
OOC NAME. Lenove
PREFERRED PRONOUNS. she/her is common, but actually, I don't care
TIMEZONE. CET / CEST
METHOD OF CONTACT. Board PM or Discord Lenove#2966