realityshifted | (no subject)

[the Doctor is here; he looks completely the same, and utterly different

his eyes are no longer closed, distant things; they are wide and clear as he runs frantic hands through his hair

when he speaks, it is with a strange mix of accents, all shifting into each other]

Surely I didn't regenerate in my sleep…

[he turns this way and that, holding himself as a vibrant, earnest youth]

I doubt this is some sort of Purgatory, considering such things don't exist. Perhaps I'm hallucinating; I know that can happen, particularly if death is difficult.

[his hands fall to his sides, curling into loose fists as he begins to pace, dogged and agitated]

It's possible I was poisoned as I slept. Cowardly, but I wouldn't put it past certain people. I can use this to my advantage, if I'm careful. Best not to dwell on it all. Yes. [softer, a dark mutter] I do hope I was the only target.

[abruptly, he stops; irritably, he snaps at the stars] Shouldn't this have worn off by now?

((Experiment time!

The Doctor has mentally reverted to his youth – well, relative youth. As far as he's concerned, he's just out of Academy, ready to change the world.

He is hopeful, determined, and compassionate; he is also brisk, snarky, and condescending.

HAVE FUN.))

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[She's just really hoping this isn't a doppelganger.] Doctor? Are you all right?

[have a confused stare.] Doctor?

[o.o] You broke.

[The Master is confused, because the voice pattern - something you pay a close attention to, across regenerations - seems very strange]

Doctor.

What's wrong with you now?

Grandfather? You haven't regenerated. Did you ... hit your head?

[his eyes widen, and he gazes at her warily] Not a doctor. Probably come in handy, though, come to think of it.

...No.

[affronted] I certain have not. [raises eyebrows] Are you a cat?

[frowns impatiently] That's getting a bit old, now.

Not-- [Oookay, what?] Then who are you?

I might have died, I'm probably hallucinating, and I'm completely vulnerable.

...Have you? I don't have any grandchildren. [...he peers at her, though, as if she's somehow familiar]

[slight shrug] Most people call me Theta Sigma, now. [wry smile] Feel free to think it daft. Now, who did you think I was?

I... thought you were the Doctor, a Time Lord, from Gallifrey, etcetera etcetera.

...Well, that's two out of three.

[Very, very carefully.] So. You don't know anyone named the Doctor. Or the Master.

[promptly] No. More titles, then names, aren't... [his brow furrows] Not renegades, are they?

Renegades?

[schools his features into a grave, imperious expression] Errant miscreants who run off to recklessly interfere with the universe.

[...wat.] I'll say no.

Edited 2009-01-22 19:29 (UTC)

[back to his normal, cautiously curious tone] Mind, that's only one definition. "The smart ones" is another.

Best explains how they'd meet you, anyway - most Time Lords don't associate with aliens.

Your name? Well if you're going to be the one switching it over to 'the Interfering Idiot' I'll be happy to call up the CIA for you and ask them to change the data, but I didn't think you'd get tired of it so quickly.

[his expression shifts immediately into a suspicious scowl] How do you know about - [and then a sharp shake of his head, cutting himself off neatly] You've clearly mistaken me for someone else. I've never gone by 'Doctor' in my life.

[oh, but you can't fool the Master into thinking this is someone else. In fact, he's remembering more than anything]

Oh, then, what do you go by? If you say 'Theta Sigma' I think I'm going to have a word with the Twins for interference and a word with you for not recognising me.

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