The Doctor

Private, selective Tenth Doctor roleplay blog. Under construction. Written by Amyla.

[manifesttime]

((I feel I should log in here just to say I’m still alive?

I don’t know when the muse for this account will come back.  I hope he does sometime soon.

Hope you all had a good holiday season if you celebrate, and if you don’t celebrate, I hope you’re all doing well anyway.))

[manifesttime]

((I am so, so sorry for disappearing.  I am apparently going to be ridiculously slow on this account, for which I apologize.

I’m going to try to catch up on both accounts over the weekend.  Hopefully.))

[manifesttime]

((Hello, all!  Just wanted to swing by to say I’ve not forgotten you guys.  I’ve got a folder full of drafts on my @siobhancrossworlder account that I’m going to try to clear out over the next couple of days, and then I’m going to see about doing the drafts and starters I owe here.  Hope everyone’s well!))

[timeheartcd-deactivated20211114]

chants ‘the doctor is a pretty shitty time lord and not the standard of his species’ really loudly

he’s crappy at reading biodata - meaning he can’t often tell the species of someone else as easily as a time lord should be able to and can’t see through disguises that well.

his teachers thought he was annoying as hell - he’d make paper aeroplanes. paper. aeroplanes. he once stuck a teacher in a time loop for a whole 24 hours so he taught the same lesson all day. him and koschei would ruin each other’s experiments in science lessons to piss each other off. this carried on for about 100 years.

he only got 42% in his telepathy exam - though he gained a grand master title in telepathic combat.

he only got 11% in his art & architecture exam - he’s actually really good at landscape gardening, drawing and sculpture; a thing frowned upon in the academy (where most art was computer generated) and his art teacher was very disappointed.

he only scored 49% in history - taking note of official histories and that he shouldn’t meddle in any of them was difficult, apparently.

he only just scraped through his exams to become a time lord - his parents were very disappointed.

him and ruath re-introduced cats to gallifrey - he literally stole a bunch of cats and let them run wild in the gallifreyan countryside bc he felt like it.

him and the master would steal broken tardises, get drunk and start bar fights - most thought he was stupidly reckless and lacking in social grace.

his family eventually banned all mention of his name - he talked to aliens and this is super bad.

he didn’t even want to be a frigging time lord - he just wanted a doctorate.

[tenrose]

‘Cause we could be immortals, immortals Just not for long, for long And live with me forever now, You pull the blackout curtains down Just not for long, for long

[therisingtide]

He wasn’t surprised by the other’s confusion. He took a breath, gathering his thoughts for a moment before he answered the other’s multitude of questions. “No, they’re not dead, just time locked. I’ve been here for a few years. I escaped when the planet almost returned, which you might not remember since for you it hasn’t happened yet, and my name is Tavaris, but you can also call me The Rebel. Yes I was in the war, and no, I’m not like those twisted old geezers either, before you ask that too. Also, it’s a pleasure to meet you Doctor. I hear you’ve made quite a name for yourself. And I want in on all of that too, mind you. I’ve dreamed my whole life of going out into space and seeing everything it has to offer. I wasn’t old enough though to go out on my own when the war started and after, well, I never got the chance..”

[manifesttime]

“What?”

The sudden influx of unexpected information had him momentarily at a loss for further words, his mind lurching into frenzied motion as he worked to process the details of the young Gallifreyan’s revelations.  Like a narrowing orbit, his thoughts descended to fixate on one point, heavy with gravitas.  His face drained of color, his eyes flying wide.

“Gallifrey came back?”  Spinning on his heels, he began to pace, his hands lifting to track paths of gravity-defying chaos through his hair.  “No.  No-no-no-no.  Don’t tell me any more.  If it’s in my future, I shouldn’t know too much...”  

The rubber soles of his Converse squeaked as he abruptly stopped pacing and pivoted to face Tavaris.  “You’ve been here how long?”  He peered carefully at the adolescent Time Lord, his eyes sweeping over the other’s form, measuring a plethora of minute details in four dimensions as he tried to piece together the puzzle.  “I should have known.  Should have felt it,” he said, tapping one finger against his temple, “in here.  And I do now.  But why not before?”

[rhosetyler]

Is there any other way to go, daddy-o ?

[babwolf]

[falllingthroughspace]

How about that? I win.

[manifesttime]

((Sorry for the delay on replies, you guys.  I’ll hopefully get to them in the next couple of days.))

[manifesttime]

Sarah Jane Smith and Ten: The Thinning of the Veil

He had been traveling alone too long.  That had to be it.  His own thoughts had become an echo chamber, swirling an endless loop through the corridors of his mind, layering atop one another until they became like living things, dogging his every step, his every breath.

He wanted her back--

No.

It was the solitude to blame, he mused as he fixed the time rotor with an empty-eyed stare.  He’d kept himself apart after-- after Rose.  Iced over his hearts.  No more.  No more, no more.

He wanted her back--

No.

Moving slowly, mechanically, he circled the console, flipping switches, pulling knobs, punching in coordinates.  He scarcely realized where he was directing the TARDIS, acting instinctively, as one in a dream.  The battered old slapshod Type 40 shuddered and groaned and wheezed as she lurched into flight, battered and tossed by the eternal storm of the Vortex, until she reached her destination and pushed her way through the walls of reality to settle her inconspicuous wooden outer shell to the rocky brown-and-ochre terrain.  As he stepped from the TARDIS, he lifted his eyes to see the flying creatures, the soaring mantas, silhouetted by the dying orange light as they dipped and glided just over the jutting stone carapaces and ancient lava flows that littered the surface of this world.

How long are you going to stay with me--

No.

Why had he come here?  Alone too long.  He needed another distraction.  And another, and another, and another... Never slowing, never pausing, scarcely breathing.  This had been his life for the past year.  Running.  Hiding from the one recurring thought.

He wanted her back.  And he had the power to do just that.

Who was left to stop him?

Turning abruptly on his heel with a swirling flare of his long coat, he strode back into the TARDIS and marched up to the console.  Something crystallized within him, hardened like diamond, a reckless resolve, the sort of wild abandon that drew one to dance in a storm and open one’s arms to receive the lightning.   

Nobody was left to stop him.  Nobody.

And so, that was why he punched in the coordinates for a large brick house in South Croydon.  Sarah Jane Smith, he told himself, would help him.  (She wouldn’t stop him)  She was his friend, his companion.  (Would she stop him?)  She’d met Rose.  She would understand why he needed to do this.  (Surely she wouldn’t stop him)  

The TARDIS slowly manifested herself to the position he had directed her to, and he stepped forth from her doors, peering up at the house with dark eyes.

“Hello again, Sarah Jane,” he murmured before striding forward toward the door.

[zhirleyruiop]

DW MEME [9] [10] [11] [12]

Tenth

REBLOG IF YOU DON'T MIND BLOODY ROLEPLAYS OR VIOLENT ROLEPLAYS

Reblog if you're comfortable with RPing same-sex relationships

Send "Don't push me away, you need me." for my character's response.

[memoirsverse]

((Wow, I’ve never had a muse that actually managed to compete with Evelyn before in terms of what commandeered my attention.  It’s like this:

Me:  I want to work on Evelyn’s drafts.

Ten:  Nope.  You wanna work on my drafts.

Me:  But I have eleven drafts on Evelyn’s account and they’ve been sitting there for a bit!

Ten:  And you have five drafts in my account.  Five.  And you obviously need more.  Because five isn’t enough.

Me:  But–

Ten:  EH-EH.

…And I haven’t been writing him enough for his voice to come naturally yet, so every reply I’m making, I’m paging through show transcripts to get the feel for his dialogue.  LOL But still, he’s fun to write, despite my worries that I’m not doing him justice.  He’s just… very insistent.))

[manifesttime]

((Like for a starter because Ten wants more threads.))