Hullo, I was dabbling around with who I think and want Capaldi to be as the Doctor.
-Whovian123
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, all rights belong to the proper owners.
Numb was the only word that could describe what I felt, this completely unexplainable feeling of emptiness. It was the only word that comes to mind as I fight to fall asleep. Falling asleep has never been difficult for me seeing as a perk of the TimeLord biology is the ability to control ones sleep patterns very precisely. Control however was certainly something I found myself lacking as I tossed my quilt to the floor leaving my bed bare and my feet cold.
I waste no time in setting my bare feet on the rough carpet of my room. Last regeneration I had been so fond of sleeping with socks on, however this time around they had felt curiously constricting and I decided to go without. With my mind slipping into auto pilot I stumble through the darkness of my room and into the adjoining washroom. I reach out and flick the florescent lights on. They burn my eyes but I can't manage being bothered by this because the pain is the only thing I've been able to feel in this new body. My feet are heavy against the cool tile of the washroom and my hands blindly reach out to push at the tap, icy water pours out and leaves my new fingers stiff and cold.
Finally my eyes manage to adjust to the blaring lights and I see my new face in the mirror. I couldn't help but marvel at angles of my face, my last face had been so soft and squishy looking, but this new one had a commanding presence. My new eyes were striking, they have a shade of blue that I have waited so many bodies for. I find myself intrigued by how dangerous I look. No longer do I have a face you can trust. Gone were the inviting eyes that told you that you would be safe and everything would work out. I look as if the scowl on my face is permanent.
My hair is silver and cropped close to my head, a nice change from the ridiculous flop I had adopted on the last body. Overall I look like a no-nonsense type, the guy that shoves you if you get in the way. I see my face turn up into the most mischievous of smiles and admire the controlled chaos it exudes. For so long chaos has followed me, but maybe this time I will cause the chaos. I can run through the universe mucking things up. Maybe several pre-emptive strikes against my foes will be necessary. The possibility exists that I won't just look dangerous, I will be dangerous.
I turn off the tap and move away from the mirror; at least feeling dangerous has pushed the numb feeling down. The numb doesn't leave entirely though, it probably never will. I will be chasing after the ability to fully feel for the rest of this body's life, forever trying to pull the heavy feeling of deadness from my heart.
I know that I can't spend another moment in my bed room and I bolt to the door throwing it open and taking a deep breath through my nose. Not bothering to close my door I set off to find somewhere else to waste the last few hours until morning. I pass door after door with no set destination. Eventually I find myself in front of a rather special closet. With a quick flick of my wrist I turn the old brass doorknob and pass through the doorway. The air in the closet is stagnant and stale, I fumble around for the light switch not quite able to remember where it is seeming as it has been almost 600 years since I was last in here.
When I do get the lights on I find that they are softer than the rest of the lights in the T.A.R.D.I.S. Filling the room are racks of clothes. This is where I store the signature outfit of each body I've had, they are all ironed and hung up in chronological order. I keep them to remind me of who I am. When you change so radically so very often you need something to keep close and remind you of who you are.
I browse along the racks, taking peeks at long coats, cricket uniforms and one hazardously long scarf. I remember every second of every life I've had from the beginning, back when I was a grumpy grandfather. With so many lives rolling around in my head I need a way to separate who I was in each one and that always ends up being an outfit. So still being in my old tweed and trousers leaves me feeling very conflicted.
My hand brushes against a velvety opera cape and I feel my face turning up into the mischievous smile again. That's who I would be. I would be a man of action, a man of sophisticated power. I wasted no time digging through piles of clothes and putting together an ensemble fitting of the mischief I intend to stir. I have a dark and powerful aura around me which my selected outfit only enhances. I whip my hands around and enjoy the flashes of bright red that could be seen lining my new navy coat. I paired my navy and red coat with simple trousers of the same navy and a white shirt partly covered by a new vest. Despite my giddy love of my new jacket my favorite article or clothing is definitely the boots that I selected from a seemingly endless rack. They are a shiny and enticing black with a sturdy and thick soul, nothing like the dainty footwear I had worn lately.
Casting a thoughtful look at my old outfits I leave the room and make my way to the console room. My steps don't drag quite as much as they did earlier in the night and though my heart still struggles to feel anything it seems a little lighter. I find myself humming a gentle tune as I step into the console room and survey the area. The desktop is still fairly new and while it does need tweaking I think I can stand keeping the overall look the same.
My hand brushes against the dials and levers, they feel like home. The little blue box that has never let me down and will stick with me through thick and thin because we needed each other more than we will ever know. The console feels warm, not a smothering heat, but a warm that mirrored a friendly hug. She is welcoming me, the new me, making sure I know that who I have become is okay with her, and with her acceptance I begin to accept myself a little more and become ever so slightly less numb.
Love it hate it? Let me know what I can do better.