The Doctor ♣ Eleven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
comeonthensexy) wrote2012-08-30 08:31 am
comeonthensexy) wrote2012-08-30 08:31 am
Asgard app
OOC Information;
Name; Tossino
Personal Journal;tossino
Contact; AIM: thetossedone | Skype: tosssino |![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
tossino
Other Characters; Uther Pendragon |foodshortage
Activity proof; Right yonder
IC Information;
Character Name; The Doctor (the Eleventh incarnation)
Canon; Doctor Who
Canon Point; End of A Good Man Goes to War (Season 6 episode 7)
Age; 908 or 909, I’m unsure which, could be either, really. And that is what he says. In reality, he's most likely older than that (at least over a thousand, and add a number of hundred years to that) and has either lost track or is knowingly lying, or a bit of both. To be fair, he wasn't raised on Earth time. He probably has no idea anymore.
House; Sigyn
Power; Healing
Personality; The Doctor, the last Time Lord, The Oncoming Storm.
The man who makes people better.
His title has been implied to mean such. The Doctor never uses his real name – he technically doesn’t have it, since it was withdrawn from him. River said that he is the first man to ever be “Doctor”, and after that people took the word to mean “healer” or “wise man” – and in some parts of the universe “mighty warrior”. Because the Doctor is all of these things.
Self-proclaimed protector of the universe and all its living beings – with a particular fondness for Earth and humans – the Doctor cares enough to almost suffocate him for everything in existence. His first instinct (with one or two exceptions) is always to help, to heal. He works on the assumption that anyone who does harm has a reason for it, and if he can fix the reason then there doesn’t need to be any(more) bloodshed and everyone will walk away from it hopefully happier, satisfied and overall better off.
If this fails, if he can’t save everyone, it hurts him. Every death gets to him because it’s such a waste, but it also drives him further towards succeeding. It makes him work with more hurry, with more determination, and more anger, because it’s such a waste. And that’s why he never, ever carries a weapon with him but instead tries to negotiate and, if that fails, use his brain to figure out a way to save as many as he can.
However, if he finds it necessary, the Doctor can be brutal. He had a race called Silent implant a thought into every human being on earth to kill them on sight, and in his previous incarnation he granted the so-called Family of Blood immortality that they had killed to achieve by trapping them in various places (for example Sister of Mine in every mirror in existence). No incarnation is exactly the same but few could deny that the Doctor is likely the most dangerous man in the universe and anyone who has any sense and knows they have done wrong tremble at his very name. The Daleks – made purely for destroying everything that isn’t a Dalek and thus a rare target for actual hate from the Doctor – fear nothing but the Doctor, The Oncoming Storm.
Fearing him is probably the wise thing. He is the man who wiped out his own people and most of the Daleks in one swipe, along with their planets, to make sure to keep the rest of the universe safe.
He’s a lone Time Lord traveling through time and space in a stolen ship and then you get… well, lonely. It’s difficult for him to resist bringing people along on his adventures, offering them all of time and space to make it just as difficult for them to resist coming with him. It’s a dangerous thing; traveling with the Doctor, and always when he has people traveling with him he swears to himself that he will protect them at all costs. Anyone who ends up hurting a companion of the Doctor really will face the storm.
Because in the end, the Doctor destroys people. He can’t resist bringing people with him, but every time he does he knows that they will never come out of it the same as they started. He knows that they will be in danger, he knows that they will not always be okay, he knows he can’t guarantee that they will live but he promises them that they will anyway because he can’t do anything else. And in the end, when the Doctor can’t watch them get destroyed anymore, he drops them off back home and every time they wonder how they can go back to their usual lives. Few things can sway him from that decision when he’s truly made it, as not bringing them is the surest way he can keep them safe.
Perhaps they can’t really be considered destroyed, most likely they would say they are not, but the Doctor truly believes they are. He carries himself with an air of confidence, flamboyance, childishness. When he’s done something good, he knows it, and when he’s been extraordinary, he knows it. He has no qualms against bragging about it and demanding attention because he rather basks in it. Like asking what the point is in having Amy, Rory and River if they’re not there to look impressed when he’s being clever. He’s a man who has no intention of leaving lasting marks in history and for people to know that he did something, but he rolls in the recognition and praise and perhaps that’s another reason he likes traveling with others. If he can’t have the universe praise him, one or two humans will do.
It can come off as awfully arrogant and egoistic, but in reality it’s probably not only that. In reality, he doesn’t fully trust what he knows about himself and only considers it a success when he can see that people are thankful, see that they’re well, and gets told he did well. He feels at ease, then, more than he usually does.
His mouth runs ahead of his brain and he talks before he thinks and reflects, and sometimes it is, truly, outright rude and he doesn’t always realize it. He’s not human, after all; he’s alien, and it shows – he doesn’t fully comprehend everything, doesn’t always understand people while sometimes he understands them better than they probably do themselves. He is getting better at it, steadily.
He carries himself with that air, and it’s not entirely false. When it comes to how he views himself, he can come off a little contradictory but, really, it all makes sense. In a lot of ways, he thinks he destroys whatever he touches, brings death and pain wherever he goes, that it’s best for others to stay away from him, but at the same time he’s the one man he trusts the very most. It’s a case of knowing what he can do and what he’s capable of that makes him know that he can be relied upon anytime and anywhere, but knowing what he can do and what he has done and continues doing is also what makes him hate himself more than anyone in the universe. Once, he, Amy and Rory got trapped by the Dream Lord made by psychic pollen from the Doctor’s mind, the Doctor says he only knows one person who hates him enough to do what the Dream Lord did.
And that person is himself, but he doesn’t say that part out loud. Not that it was that difficult to figure out.
Once, someone told him good men have too many rules, and he answered with “good men don’t need rules. Now isn’t the time for why I have so many” – pretty much saying that he doesn’t consider himself a good man.
Being as old as he is, he has had a long time to think of what he is and has done, and how brilliant he can be but also every reason there is to hate him. Everyone who meets him tend to be dazzled by him, completely enamored in one way or another, but to him, he is nothing but a man who has lived perhaps too long but isn’t yet willing to die, a man who once ran and never stopped, a man who makes horrible mistakes or accomplishes great things because with the Doctor nothing is ever half-arsed. Or, to put it in his own words, a madman with a box.
With that age comes some tiredness, without fail. The Doctor truly thinks life is an incredible, wonderful thing and he enjoys it, especially in the current incarnation, but it does make him tired; everything he’s lost and seen people lose, everything he’s tried to fix and never fixed as much as he would like, all the deaths he’s seen and he has very little tolerance for murder at this point, if any at all.
But he also has a childish energy to him, excitement that can make him seem so very young sometimes, and he can switch between energy and tiredness so very quickly. It’s not so strange, though, because when you have all of time and space in front of you, there will always be things you’ve never seen and there is no reason to not be excited. Of course, then you would think he gets excited over really amazing things that we can’t even dream of, but he also gets excited over things that are simple and mundane to us, like bowties, and bunk beds. (“Bunk beds are cool – a bed, with a ladder.”) But he needs to be able to get excited about something – perhaps it’s a coping mechanism.
Still, when you have all of space and time you will see so much that it will leave clear marks. Hundreds of years of it and that will not leave you okay, and the Doctor isn’t okay, but he has such a thirst for it all that he can never stay still, never stay put in one place. It’s unbearable.
In his travels, the Doctor is drawn to the extraordinary, the dangerous, the strange, anything that’s special. Whenever something is wrong, he’s there, and a few times, when he noticed something wasn’t right, he said “let’s go poke it with a stick”, and that sums everything up so very nicely because that is exactly what he does. A reason that he’s so dangerous and well-known is exactly because he pokes things with a stick and can’t keep his nose out of strange things. That is, however, also why he is so loved and touches so many hearts.
There’s no reason he shouldn’t stick his nose into things, though. He knows he can without putting himself in too much risk, he knows he has the ability and the smarts to manage it. It likely wouldn’t make a great deal of difference if he didn’t know, but that is certainly the one reason he’s still alive. Especially the smarts. His brain works in such a way that he can’t always quite keep track of it, and that is when he rambles.
When River Song asked him if there was a plan, he said “I don’t know, I haven’t finished talking”, and that says everything about him. The Doctor rambles and it’s not because he likes to hear his voice (maybe only a little), but because it helps him think, helps him make sense of everything in his mind and put it in order.
He knows he’s brilliant, so he puts himself above everyone despite the way he views himself. He considers himself the person who’s going to fix things, even while he thinks he brings destruction. Not that he can’t tell when something isn’t his fault, but there are often sacrifices before he manages to do something and he can’t stand that. But he does still place himself above everyone else, which can come off as arrogant while at the same time, he’s probably hoping to repent for things he holds himself very much responsible for. There’s a whole bundle of a mess of reasons and emotions in there; his care for every living thing, his need to help, his knowing he can help, his fascination with everything in the world, his guilt… And on.
In his quest to protect what matters and the people he loves, the Doctor will do a great deal of things. There is no real limit – most often it would go at murder, but even that has exceptions – and one he does plenty (that can really be for other reasons) is one he sometimes says is the number one rule when traveling with him:
“The Doctor lies.”
Sometimes, that’s what he needs to do to get people to listen to him. When it comes to doing what he thinks is right, he will do what it takes. Lying is, really, very tame compared to what he’s capable of doing.
So the Doctor is a lonely man, childish and filled with excitement but so very tired, and he lies and manipulates and struggles and tries to do so much right but never seeming to quite succeed, at least not as well as he would like. He’s lived so long and done so much because of it that people have grown afraid of what he is and what he might do. When it comes down to it, he’s an old man burdened by his past and the weight of the universe that he chooses to carry by himself, and all the guilt that comes with it.
And all the while, he’s running. That’s what his traveling is – running, always running, from everything. He can go back to things, return for a moment, but it’s never permanent and he never stays.
When a Time Lord is eight years old, they’re taken to look into the Untempered Schism and that can end in three ways: They get inspired, they go mad, or they run. When asked which he was, the Doctor – in his previous incarnation, but it will always be part of him no matter what incarnation – answered:
“Oh, the ones who ran away. I never stopped.”
Samples;
Network Sample; Right, so.
[This is the Doctor, and if anyone knows him well, it should hardly be surprising he seems to know exactly what he’s doing with the bracelet.]
I’m definitely not new to this traveling between worlds thing, but I am new to having supposedly been somewhere and then not remember it when I get back. Hello, I’m the Doctor, some of you might know me.
[He waves his hand around, because moving on.]
I’m also not new to being taken away from my TARDIS. It happens, we’re always reunited in the end, that’s fine. Now, something else I’m new to, is being taken away from my TARDIS and discovering that something’s really not right.
--actually, I’m used to that too. I mean not right in the way that I don’t hear what I should hear, don’t see what I should see, don’t… Everything is just wrong, they took away my Time Lord-yness, it’s like I-I… I’m…
I’m practically human!
[So. Very. Affronted.]
I don’t really see the point of that. Or, well, I guess I do, a bit, if they insist on putting something in us then maybe it doesn’t work if they… But still! They apparently didn’t think about asking or explaining because, honestly, I would’ve been happy to help and I’m certain more of you would have too but— Ah.
[His expression shifts into one of dawning realisation.]
Ah, but the houses. See, I always liked the idea of the old mythic gods because they were always so… human, completely unlike those one-god-only religions who insist their god is perfect when, really, it seems in the books to me like they’re perfectly imperfect— But, anyway! The gods!
They’re human, mentally, and they have houses and, oh, it’s all about individual traits, isn’t it? Then, logically, if they bring in people to all the houses, there would be those that wouldn’t want to help, and if there are only people who would be kind enough to want to help then… where would the energy come from? They bring people of so different personalities together and, oh, that is clever, that is very clever, I like that. People clash, and then there are sparks and energy, [wriggles fingers,] and colour and life because humans are just beautiful like that, aren’t they?
And we’re from the outside, so we’re the only ones that could fix whatever it is that’s covered this land. They are clever. Cunning, kind of rude, actually, but clever.
[Beaming smile!]
Aren’t they?
Log Sample;
Name; Tossino
Personal Journal;
tossinoContact; AIM: thetossedone | Skype: tosssino |
Other Characters; Uther Pendragon |
foodshortageActivity proof; Right yonder
IC Information;
Character Name; The Doctor (the Eleventh incarnation)
Canon; Doctor Who
Canon Point; End of A Good Man Goes to War (Season 6 episode 7)
Age; 908 or 909, I’m unsure which, could be either, really. And that is what he says. In reality, he's most likely older than that (at least over a thousand, and add a number of hundred years to that) and has either lost track or is knowingly lying, or a bit of both. To be fair, he wasn't raised on Earth time. He probably has no idea anymore.
House; Sigyn
Power; Healing
Personality; The Doctor, the last Time Lord, The Oncoming Storm.
The man who makes people better.
His title has been implied to mean such. The Doctor never uses his real name – he technically doesn’t have it, since it was withdrawn from him. River said that he is the first man to ever be “Doctor”, and after that people took the word to mean “healer” or “wise man” – and in some parts of the universe “mighty warrior”. Because the Doctor is all of these things.
Self-proclaimed protector of the universe and all its living beings – with a particular fondness for Earth and humans – the Doctor cares enough to almost suffocate him for everything in existence. His first instinct (with one or two exceptions) is always to help, to heal. He works on the assumption that anyone who does harm has a reason for it, and if he can fix the reason then there doesn’t need to be any(more) bloodshed and everyone will walk away from it hopefully happier, satisfied and overall better off.
If this fails, if he can’t save everyone, it hurts him. Every death gets to him because it’s such a waste, but it also drives him further towards succeeding. It makes him work with more hurry, with more determination, and more anger, because it’s such a waste. And that’s why he never, ever carries a weapon with him but instead tries to negotiate and, if that fails, use his brain to figure out a way to save as many as he can.
However, if he finds it necessary, the Doctor can be brutal. He had a race called Silent implant a thought into every human being on earth to kill them on sight, and in his previous incarnation he granted the so-called Family of Blood immortality that they had killed to achieve by trapping them in various places (for example Sister of Mine in every mirror in existence). No incarnation is exactly the same but few could deny that the Doctor is likely the most dangerous man in the universe and anyone who has any sense and knows they have done wrong tremble at his very name. The Daleks – made purely for destroying everything that isn’t a Dalek and thus a rare target for actual hate from the Doctor – fear nothing but the Doctor, The Oncoming Storm.
Fearing him is probably the wise thing. He is the man who wiped out his own people and most of the Daleks in one swipe, along with their planets, to make sure to keep the rest of the universe safe.
He’s a lone Time Lord traveling through time and space in a stolen ship and then you get… well, lonely. It’s difficult for him to resist bringing people along on his adventures, offering them all of time and space to make it just as difficult for them to resist coming with him. It’s a dangerous thing; traveling with the Doctor, and always when he has people traveling with him he swears to himself that he will protect them at all costs. Anyone who ends up hurting a companion of the Doctor really will face the storm.
Because in the end, the Doctor destroys people. He can’t resist bringing people with him, but every time he does he knows that they will never come out of it the same as they started. He knows that they will be in danger, he knows that they will not always be okay, he knows he can’t guarantee that they will live but he promises them that they will anyway because he can’t do anything else. And in the end, when the Doctor can’t watch them get destroyed anymore, he drops them off back home and every time they wonder how they can go back to their usual lives. Few things can sway him from that decision when he’s truly made it, as not bringing them is the surest way he can keep them safe.
Perhaps they can’t really be considered destroyed, most likely they would say they are not, but the Doctor truly believes they are. He carries himself with an air of confidence, flamboyance, childishness. When he’s done something good, he knows it, and when he’s been extraordinary, he knows it. He has no qualms against bragging about it and demanding attention because he rather basks in it. Like asking what the point is in having Amy, Rory and River if they’re not there to look impressed when he’s being clever. He’s a man who has no intention of leaving lasting marks in history and for people to know that he did something, but he rolls in the recognition and praise and perhaps that’s another reason he likes traveling with others. If he can’t have the universe praise him, one or two humans will do.
It can come off as awfully arrogant and egoistic, but in reality it’s probably not only that. In reality, he doesn’t fully trust what he knows about himself and only considers it a success when he can see that people are thankful, see that they’re well, and gets told he did well. He feels at ease, then, more than he usually does.
His mouth runs ahead of his brain and he talks before he thinks and reflects, and sometimes it is, truly, outright rude and he doesn’t always realize it. He’s not human, after all; he’s alien, and it shows – he doesn’t fully comprehend everything, doesn’t always understand people while sometimes he understands them better than they probably do themselves. He is getting better at it, steadily.
He carries himself with that air, and it’s not entirely false. When it comes to how he views himself, he can come off a little contradictory but, really, it all makes sense. In a lot of ways, he thinks he destroys whatever he touches, brings death and pain wherever he goes, that it’s best for others to stay away from him, but at the same time he’s the one man he trusts the very most. It’s a case of knowing what he can do and what he’s capable of that makes him know that he can be relied upon anytime and anywhere, but knowing what he can do and what he has done and continues doing is also what makes him hate himself more than anyone in the universe. Once, he, Amy and Rory got trapped by the Dream Lord made by psychic pollen from the Doctor’s mind, the Doctor says he only knows one person who hates him enough to do what the Dream Lord did.
And that person is himself, but he doesn’t say that part out loud. Not that it was that difficult to figure out.
Once, someone told him good men have too many rules, and he answered with “good men don’t need rules. Now isn’t the time for why I have so many” – pretty much saying that he doesn’t consider himself a good man.
Being as old as he is, he has had a long time to think of what he is and has done, and how brilliant he can be but also every reason there is to hate him. Everyone who meets him tend to be dazzled by him, completely enamored in one way or another, but to him, he is nothing but a man who has lived perhaps too long but isn’t yet willing to die, a man who once ran and never stopped, a man who makes horrible mistakes or accomplishes great things because with the Doctor nothing is ever half-arsed. Or, to put it in his own words, a madman with a box.
With that age comes some tiredness, without fail. The Doctor truly thinks life is an incredible, wonderful thing and he enjoys it, especially in the current incarnation, but it does make him tired; everything he’s lost and seen people lose, everything he’s tried to fix and never fixed as much as he would like, all the deaths he’s seen and he has very little tolerance for murder at this point, if any at all.
But he also has a childish energy to him, excitement that can make him seem so very young sometimes, and he can switch between energy and tiredness so very quickly. It’s not so strange, though, because when you have all of time and space in front of you, there will always be things you’ve never seen and there is no reason to not be excited. Of course, then you would think he gets excited over really amazing things that we can’t even dream of, but he also gets excited over things that are simple and mundane to us, like bowties, and bunk beds. (“Bunk beds are cool – a bed, with a ladder.”) But he needs to be able to get excited about something – perhaps it’s a coping mechanism.
Still, when you have all of space and time you will see so much that it will leave clear marks. Hundreds of years of it and that will not leave you okay, and the Doctor isn’t okay, but he has such a thirst for it all that he can never stay still, never stay put in one place. It’s unbearable.
In his travels, the Doctor is drawn to the extraordinary, the dangerous, the strange, anything that’s special. Whenever something is wrong, he’s there, and a few times, when he noticed something wasn’t right, he said “let’s go poke it with a stick”, and that sums everything up so very nicely because that is exactly what he does. A reason that he’s so dangerous and well-known is exactly because he pokes things with a stick and can’t keep his nose out of strange things. That is, however, also why he is so loved and touches so many hearts.
There’s no reason he shouldn’t stick his nose into things, though. He knows he can without putting himself in too much risk, he knows he has the ability and the smarts to manage it. It likely wouldn’t make a great deal of difference if he didn’t know, but that is certainly the one reason he’s still alive. Especially the smarts. His brain works in such a way that he can’t always quite keep track of it, and that is when he rambles.
When River Song asked him if there was a plan, he said “I don’t know, I haven’t finished talking”, and that says everything about him. The Doctor rambles and it’s not because he likes to hear his voice (maybe only a little), but because it helps him think, helps him make sense of everything in his mind and put it in order.
He knows he’s brilliant, so he puts himself above everyone despite the way he views himself. He considers himself the person who’s going to fix things, even while he thinks he brings destruction. Not that he can’t tell when something isn’t his fault, but there are often sacrifices before he manages to do something and he can’t stand that. But he does still place himself above everyone else, which can come off as arrogant while at the same time, he’s probably hoping to repent for things he holds himself very much responsible for. There’s a whole bundle of a mess of reasons and emotions in there; his care for every living thing, his need to help, his knowing he can help, his fascination with everything in the world, his guilt… And on.
In his quest to protect what matters and the people he loves, the Doctor will do a great deal of things. There is no real limit – most often it would go at murder, but even that has exceptions – and one he does plenty (that can really be for other reasons) is one he sometimes says is the number one rule when traveling with him:
“The Doctor lies.”
Sometimes, that’s what he needs to do to get people to listen to him. When it comes to doing what he thinks is right, he will do what it takes. Lying is, really, very tame compared to what he’s capable of doing.
So the Doctor is a lonely man, childish and filled with excitement but so very tired, and he lies and manipulates and struggles and tries to do so much right but never seeming to quite succeed, at least not as well as he would like. He’s lived so long and done so much because of it that people have grown afraid of what he is and what he might do. When it comes down to it, he’s an old man burdened by his past and the weight of the universe that he chooses to carry by himself, and all the guilt that comes with it.
And all the while, he’s running. That’s what his traveling is – running, always running, from everything. He can go back to things, return for a moment, but it’s never permanent and he never stays.
When a Time Lord is eight years old, they’re taken to look into the Untempered Schism and that can end in three ways: They get inspired, they go mad, or they run. When asked which he was, the Doctor – in his previous incarnation, but it will always be part of him no matter what incarnation – answered:
“Oh, the ones who ran away. I never stopped.”
Samples;
Network Sample; Right, so.
[This is the Doctor, and if anyone knows him well, it should hardly be surprising he seems to know exactly what he’s doing with the bracelet.]
I’m definitely not new to this traveling between worlds thing, but I am new to having supposedly been somewhere and then not remember it when I get back. Hello, I’m the Doctor, some of you might know me.
[He waves his hand around, because moving on.]
I’m also not new to being taken away from my TARDIS. It happens, we’re always reunited in the end, that’s fine. Now, something else I’m new to, is being taken away from my TARDIS and discovering that something’s really not right.
--actually, I’m used to that too. I mean not right in the way that I don’t hear what I should hear, don’t see what I should see, don’t… Everything is just wrong, they took away my Time Lord-yness, it’s like I-I… I’m…
I’m practically human!
[So. Very. Affronted.]
I don’t really see the point of that. Or, well, I guess I do, a bit, if they insist on putting something in us then maybe it doesn’t work if they… But still! They apparently didn’t think about asking or explaining because, honestly, I would’ve been happy to help and I’m certain more of you would have too but— Ah.
[His expression shifts into one of dawning realisation.]
Ah, but the houses. See, I always liked the idea of the old mythic gods because they were always so… human, completely unlike those one-god-only religions who insist their god is perfect when, really, it seems in the books to me like they’re perfectly imperfect— But, anyway! The gods!
They’re human, mentally, and they have houses and, oh, it’s all about individual traits, isn’t it? Then, logically, if they bring in people to all the houses, there would be those that wouldn’t want to help, and if there are only people who would be kind enough to want to help then… where would the energy come from? They bring people of so different personalities together and, oh, that is clever, that is very clever, I like that. People clash, and then there are sparks and energy, [wriggles fingers,] and colour and life because humans are just beautiful like that, aren’t they?
And we’re from the outside, so we’re the only ones that could fix whatever it is that’s covered this land. They are clever. Cunning, kind of rude, actually, but clever.
[Beaming smile!]
Aren’t they?
Log Sample;