The Man Who Regrets;
Ah! Hello there! I’m the Doctor, nice to meet you. Well, I might have met you already or you might have met me already, but that’s time travel for you- all wibbly wobbly, timey wimey.

((Independent 10th Doctor RP set POST-FOREST OF THE DEAD/ PRE-MIDNIGHT, though he has gone slightly AU from there. If you would like to start an RP, please tag me as 'themanwhomakespeoplebetter' or send an ask my way. Please read the ooc info page and note that I am slightly picky sometimes. Sorry.))

M!A: None.

logicallyemotional said:
"How are you feeling?"
themanwhomakespeoplebetter replied:

Send me “How you feeling?” for my muses reaction to waking up in a hospital bed with yours visiting them.

"…Slightly disoriented but glad that at least you lot’d actually think the two hearts thing is possible unlike turn-of-the-millennial hospitals."



"Six days," Spock answered without hesitation. He refrained from giving the exact time, knowing the Time Lord wouldn’t be in the mood for it. "Considering the length of time you were unconscious, it is no wonder you are parched."

"Yeah, obviously," he sighed irritably, still feeling a bit groggy. Whatever he’d been given, it was apparently something he had a bit more difficulty shrugging off than most substances. Of course that could just be the fact that he wasn’t completely recovered yet, but whatever the cause, it was slightly annoying to the Time Lord. He enjoyed being in complete control of his mental and physical faculties.

Allonswin AU | The various adventures of Clara and the Doctor 
     ↳ Part 3 [ Part 1 | Part 2 ]


[text]: Right, sorry.
[text]: Though I’m pretty sure there’s a good chance you’ll forget this conversation. [/message cancelled] 
[text]: What year was this? Might have been visiting my Nan that year.
[text]: I’m pretty sure I’d remember that if I had seen it.
[text]: Might have been less weirded out when I first met you if I had seen that before hand.

[text]: Um… ‘round about 2007, I think.
[text]: Year before that was the killer Christmas Star that was actually a Racnoss empire-class battleship and the Thames was drained. 
[text]: Aaaaand the year before that was the Sycorax hovering over London with about a third of the population under blood control.
[text]: And I lost my hand in a sword fight. 
[text]: Wouldn’t be surprised if you were visiting your Nan. London was deserted Christmas Eve given the past 2 years.


"Come on, you need some training in this area," said Leia, wielding her blaster and forcing another into the Doctor’s hands.


"Hold it like this," she demonstrated, though he seemed very uncomfortable.


"You don’t like this, do you?"

Fumbling with the blaster as the weapon is forced into his arms, the Doctor holds it perfectly for a split second before moving to hold it as far away from himself as he possibly could.


"No," he said flatly. "Not particularly."



She doesn’t wake, she barely registers his voice. Her mind is clouded by the visions of the dark places she was kept— of the crack of Kovarian’s whip. The searing pain of the scars that littered her body as if they were ripped open again one by one. This isn’t the River Song he knew, this was a woman scared and curled against herself. The sobs becoming more and more frequent occasionally interrupted by a—

                       “No more, please

     Her hands are gripping the sheets of her bed with a white-knuckle strength only someone truly afraid would be able to do. Her body trembled beneath the blankets, she’s shaking like someone who’d just been whipped within a half-inch of their life.

                                “—-I’m Sorry

Drawing closer and seeing the state that River is in, the Doctor’s hearts don’t break- they crumble. He knows all too well that nightmares often drew on true-to-life experiences and that with the lives that both he and she led, he doubts they had to be exaggerated too far to inspire fear such as this.

With little thought- and little notice of the hypocritical state he was putting himself into- the Doctor kneels by the side of River’s bed and reaches out to gently touch an exposed temple. Closing his eyes, he simply tries to radiate a sense of peace, of calm. Out of respect, he stays on the surface of her consciousness- not wanting to intrude if he didn’t have to, and knowing the dangers if he saw or learned of something he wasn’t supposed to. “It’s alright,” he finds himself whispering. “I’m here. Nothing to be sorry about, nothing’s going to  hurt you. I promise.”



      Oh, pipe down.

              [ She gives his arm a light smack in ‘retaliation.’ 
              A wide smile spreads over her face, and she gives
              an amused shake of her head, laughing. ] 

Mmm, don’t think I will.

[Smug Time Lord is smug, apparently, as he sticks out his tongue at Romana. He laughs again, still happy to see her smile.] 



"I envy those who can live on their own. I’ve never had a chance to experience such, but I bet it is so nice, having all the freedom you could ever desire." Edith admitted, smiling sadly. The only time she had been on her own, no servants of her own, was Switzerland, and even then she had only gone to give birth to her daughter. If she had the choice to live on her own, her baby girl would be with her, and not growing up in the distant shadows of the house with a farmer’s family, never to know the truth. "Smashing. I’ll show you all you need to know, the farms, the shops, even Downton Abbey if you would like. I’m sure Papa would not mind one bit meeting the newest teacher. After all, the children are our future, and the school must be kept a priority." She was very much supportive of educating anyone who wanted to learn, but mostly the girls, girls who were usually pulled out of school to help work the house while the men worked the fields, girls expected to marry young and spend their lives as house wives. "Yes, that is were I live. My father is the Earl of Grantham. All the land in this own is technically his but we rent it out to tenant farmers, shop keepers. He does pay for the hospital though, and of course the church isn’t under his control, but anything that has the word Grantham in it, or the house crest, then you can be sure he is involved somehow, if not his ancestors."

"Yeah, I suppose it is," the Doctor shrugged with a small smile. "Bit lonely on occasion, I guess, but still. Nice to be able to make up your own time table for the most part." Granted his ‘time table’ normally involved a bit more than 1920s Yorkshire, but he was coping. Ish. He knew for a fact that not only was he less fidgety than past versions of himself, and certain events had also shown him he was quite a bit less that than even his future selves. So at least all this had come at a good time. Even if he still wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do on the weekends. Especially on Sundays when everything’d probably be shut. How many days were in an Earth week, again?

"Talk about keeping it all in the family, eh?" he said, laughing for a moment before awkwardly clearing his throat as he felt the joke fall flat. "Tried and true system, at least. Always needs a bit of adjusting with changing times, but so does everything else. History’d be awful boring if it didn’t. Granted it’d be nice if it could be done without wars and fighting, but that’s why teaching about it’s so important. Might not always learn from the past- in fact very few do- but some will and hopefully those some will help make the future a better place. Good as it can be, anyways."


Please preface questions with “Truth”


Please preface questions with “Truth”