Exams almost over. Had my first one today, as a result my hand hurts like hell for writing constantly for two-and-a-half hours...
It's really nice to be writing personal DW stuffs again. This was sorta inspired by some funky, and rather random DW fan-art whereby all the Doctor's incarnations were illustrated as cats...
The Doctor mentioned here is actually 13, but doesn't have an option for author-created/other Doctor so I put 11...
Woo series 3 quotes. I'm currently making DW bookmarks :) [random]
His time vessel drifts aimlessly through a patch of space gliding through nursery stars, just blinking into life. He sees nebulas, dust clouds of planets that were. An eerily blank patch in the miasma of twinkling, mesmerising brightness catches his eyes, and he suppresses a shudder. It reminds him of the gaping maw of a endless black hole.
My people practically invented black holes.
It's not something he's proud of, as he lays beneath the vast clear dome in the Zero Room, watching space and time drift by little by little. He comes in here more often now, comes to ponder his existence.
The reds and yellows and dusky purple reflect back on his face, uncovering the ancient heart beneath the youthful guise. He's in his last life now, his thirteenth, a tad older than his manic Tenth self, but less than the hardened soldier of his war-beaten Ninth self.
Youth is wasted on the young. Simply because he feels so...well, ancient.
He's ancient and forever
Sometimes he wishes it weren't so. The pages of his life have become yellowed, the worn spine dissolving into stars.
He's like fire and ice and rage
Lately situations have caused a relapse in his sullen moods. There is no-one to hear his cries and screams. After all, who would want to travel with a bitter, cynical, temperamental old Time Lord?
He's like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun
Likened to the night. He likes that. Slinking around, unseen, like a stray alley cat.
A cat that also happens to have a tiger of epic proportions wrapped in its hearts.
A cat that bears it battle scars, with matted fur, and glinting eyes.
A cat that just wanted a good loving home.
But not many could say they could feel the rip-tide of Time itself, pulling him in, everywhere. People in general, not cats, he means.
He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe
But it is infuriating. All the whats, all the ifs, all the ever-could-bes. And it does drive him insane. Not being able to have a proper relationship with anyone because he could always see their timelines in flux around him. He could never see them clearly, and it was like a present he was tempted to unwrap. Large and glittering.
It was damn curse.
And yet...
he's wonderful
Really, truly? They didn't know the first thing about him.
He feels the ache of his age in his bones, and for a moment allows a quick thought about his human self. Was this what it would be like?
He sighs, dragging age-weathered palms over his face, feeling the skin stretch and pull, noticing his imperfections. His battle-scars.
He wearily pulls himself to his feet, drags himself away from the scene unfolding above him. Forced his tired feet to the doorway. Then he allows himself one last peek at the sheer essence of Time and Space, before deftly, quietly flicking a switch. Then he is gone.
Perhaps it was time for this old cat to retire for once.