This was quite an impromptu fanfic, so read this with the twelfth doctor in mind.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dr Who or any character or element associated with Dr Who (if only, *sighs*).
Toga of Knowledge
The planet of Ellimia. The third moon orbiting the twelfth sun in the Fenn galaxy. He always liked the numbers three and twelve for some reason. It had a nice ring to it. Or a very bad connotation, he still had to decide.
Either way, he liked Ellimia. The planet was once a hybrid between the natural phenomena of internal planetary energy and the genius of the Torina race. They somehow managed to locate the very source and used it to fuel every invention thinkable. There were, however, a few problems.
Firstly, the energy could only be harnessed by directly being in contact with the core of the planet. This led to the second problem: how to use a device without kilometres of cables stretching and tangling everywhere.
These two problems introduced the third and fatal flaw. Every Torinian was raised to become some sort of ambitious young engineer, or inventor or researcher, all for the sake of solving these three great problems of Ellimia, otherwise known as 'The Three Great Problems of Ellimia.
Unfortunately, the Torinians weren't as willing to get their seven fingered hands dirty as their ancestors, thus, generations of scholars and academics were born. Each one claimed to know the answer, but no one was willing to see if it will work.
And that's what he liked about Ellimia. Instead of roaring air traffic and pollution, the great cities of the planet were filled with a gentle people. People always on the quest for knowledge. To discover and to rediscover their purpose. The old ways of technology were put aside to usher in the new era of philosophy.
Sometimes, when the prospect of saving another planet, or galaxy or sun, became to much. He would direct the TARDIS here. He would don the traditional purple Toga of Knowledge, sit among the Torinians, and soak up the calm debates, word for word.
Today was one of those days. Feelings of memories plagued him, but the feelings of memories he can't remember, plagued him more. And! He was finally able to dump that annoying little bald man somewhere between Earth and the Helki Galaxy. So, in short, he felt drained, and ready for some stimulating company.
With gratitude, he directed the TARDIS to the small room prepared for him close to The Great Debate Chamber. The room was always kept vacant for his presence. There, he could rest, meditate and gather his thoughts before entering the assembly. Not that he needs any rest or meditation, of course, but this room was ideal to change into The Toga.
And what a ridiculous thing it was. The Toga of Knowledge was little more than a purple bathrobe, and a very short one at that too. He looked into a mirror, his bushy eyebrows frowning at his reflection. What a horrible piece of clothing. Luckily, his room had a door opening directly into the chamber, thus cancelling out the embarrassing walk through the food vendors in front of the building.
He always felt quite naked and cold in this stupid thing. Almost like the time when he first wore this face. That flimsy white night gown, fluttering in London's cold wind. What was he doing there? Ah yes, helping the lizard lady detective. His companion then-
His mind went blank. Another frustrating moment where her face hovered in the back of his mind, but he just can't reach it. He sighed and walked towards the door, pulling at the offending robe, trying to get it to at least cover his knobby knees. He pulled the door open and stepped inside.
Still trying to remember, he walked the few paces toward the arena-like chamber, deep in thought. As he approached his seat at the top of a dais, the murmurs of the assembly quieted. Ah yes, he thought, they feel a worthy opponent approaches.
He finally came to his seat, and without a thought, he greeted the elders in Torinian. He clapped his hands three times, pranced around in a little circle, shouted the custom greeting "LA LA LAAM!" and flopped down into his seat. Only when he didn't hear the traditional reply of "LAMA!", did he look up.
A multitude of shocked Torinians looked back at him. Correction. A multitude of shocked, fully dressed, Torinians looked back at him. Fully dressed in black industrial gear and jumpsuits form the olden days of technology.
After a few minutes of the most awkward of silences he has ever endured, a figure stepped forward. She was much taller than the Torinians, as was he. Her black dress and black hair emphasized her pale skin and blood red lips. She looked at his wiry, scantily clad frame and gave a long whistle.
The Doctor sprang to his feet and angrily tried to keep his robe in place, his Scottish accent rumbling through the chamber, "MISSY!"
"My, my, my Doctor. You look fine"
I feel like Missy deserves her own series...mmmmm...
Ideas?