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Dannie's Ongoing WhoLock RP
Topic Started: Feb 3 2013, 10:15 PM (148 Views)
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[[DANNIE IS THE TENTH DOCTOR. LIFTTHEDARKNESS IS JOHN WATSON. OTHER CHARACTERS MAY OR MAY NOT BE INTRODUCED LATER.]]

It was a testament to how busy central London was when nobody questioned a man popping out of an old blue police box just inside an alley. That had been as expected – some people just didn’t pay attention to anything if they could label it as Someone Else’s Problem – and the man was in far too big a hurry to bother with curious humans poking at his box.

The TARDIS had dropped him here, London 2010, for a reason, and if he couldn’t find that reason, then he wasn’t the Doctor. And he was indeed the Doctor, after all, and so he would indeed find the reason. For example, he was armed with one of his doohickeys that liked to go ding when there was stuff, and another that whistled in the presence of a life form not like the ones around it – helpful as long as he was on a planet that had only one type of life form.

Now, to search London until either a ding or a whistle sounded from his pockets. Shouldn’t be too hard, he reasoned with a sharp nod, turning and striding straight into the crowd. His sort of thing wasn’t a sort of thing that was particularly discreet in announcing its presence.

It was not a good day. But then, John rarely thought therapy days were good ones. Another day of admitting to not updating the blog, another day waking from those terrible nightmares. It wasn't a great wonder that he was feeling rather grey and worn around the edges as he stepped out of the therapist's office. He leaned a little more heavily on his cane than usual, as was his way when he was feeling rather troubled, as though the effort of thinking on things simply wore him right out. He paused to purchase a newspaper from the news stand, making his way down the street until he crossed into a nearby park.

Here he had intended to sit and stew over what he thought had been an unproductive appointment (he was not getting better, not while he still had those nightmares, no matter what the therapist said), but his attention was stolen by a panicked shriek from the corner of the park, obscured by trees. He hurried over. He was a doctor, it was instinctive for him to try and lend help where he could, but what he found made him stop dead in his tracks. These creatures...because what else could you call them, with their several glossy black eyes and gnashing teeth, had corralled several humans amongst them, and were demanding the doctor.

And none of these people looked to be doctors. What could these beings need a doctor for? Perhaps one of their kind was injured or ill, and they did not have the technology for the ailment. That was something that happened in sci fi books, right? "I'm a doctor," He called out, tightening his grip on his cane. "I'll only go with you if you let these people go, though. Go on. You don't need them." He sounded braver than he felt. John was good under stress.

Aha! A whistle! Perfect, he was just starting to get bored. The Doctor pulled out his contraption with an unnecessary flourish and checked the readings, executing a perfect 360 degree turn and heading the opposite way down the sidewalk. Only a few blocks down was a park, and his device was getting a bit excited. It was causing a bit of attention, so the Doctor gave it a sharp smack and tucked it away again before someone questioned it. The point was, within this park was his sort of thing, and he needed to find it quickly before someone got too tangled up in—

Did someone just say he was a doctor?

Oh no, oh no, oh no. Usually when his sort of thing appeared and the word ‘doctor’ was used in any way, shape, or form, they usually tended to mean him, and he was certainly not the one announcing his presence. Or, at least, he shouldn’t be, because that voice certainly didn’t sound familiar and none of his past or future regenerations would ever refer to themselves as a doctor.

“That won’t be necessary, actually,” the Doctor said after a moment, pushing through the bushes to join the other doctor. “I believe you’re looking for me.” When the aliens simply gave each other what he assumed to be confused looks, the Doctor sighed and spread his arms wide. “I’m the Doctor.” Low talking spread through the group like wildfire, and one finally spoke loud enough for them to hear clearly.

“If you are the Doctor, why does that one call himself the Doctor?”

“Oh, I’ve no idea, really. But I’m the Doctor, really I am. Poor bloke’s just confused.”

John had no idea what was going on. Who was this man? Didn't he know that John was trying to be charitable, and save the others? Why was he turning this into a competition? Why not just let it be, and take the chance to get away? But here he was, "the" Doctor. Why "the" doctor? There could be more than one. "I most certainly am not confused," He responded a bit defensively. "I know my own profession, thank you. I'm an army doctor. But by all means, if you're more qualified, have at it." Yes, he was feeling a little testy. This was strange, and he wondered if perhaps he had fallen and hit his head. He wanted to pinch himself, but he thought that might just confirm his supposed confusion.

Still, John gave the floor to this man. He wasn't about to play hero if it wasn't needed. This was, he realized, finally something that was blog-worthy.

“No, no, don’t listen to him,” the Doctor cut in, just as the creatures’ heads swiveled back to the one insisting upon his doctor-ness. “He really has no idea what he’s talking about, so you should all just ignore the fellow and tell me what exactly you want me for.”

“But…”

“No, really, ignore him because he is not the Doctor because I am the Doctor.”

“We’ll take them both,” one piped up from somewhere in the back.

“You will not take us both. It’s simple, really! Isn’t anyone listening to me?”

But lights were already starting to grow, around each of the creatures and also around both the Doctor and the confused man beside him. The Doctor sighed heavily and glanced over to him. “From now on, it may be a good idea to stop calling yourself a doctor in front of alien life forms if you want to avoid these types of situations.”

"Alien life forms?" He responded weakly, and then he gave into the urge to pinch himself, seizing the skin by his thumb in a firm grip. Ouch. Okay. Not dreaming. Very much awake. He wanted to insist that there was no such thing as aliens, that of course there had to be a proper explanation for all this, but he knew that might seem a little laughable, when he was surrounded by evidence to the contrary. Instead, he simply added defensively, "How was I to know?" John was remarkably uninformed on the previous attacks and invasions in the area, given that he had been out of the country during them.

If these creatures were aliens, then what did that make this man? He looked human enough, didn't he?

“Well, considering that they look like aliens, I would have assumed it to be fairly obvious.”

Seeing as they had apparently been asking for him by name – and he did mean asking in the loosest sense of the word – it didn’t look too promising for the Doctor. But, really, that didn’t mean he couldn’t at least convince them to spare the life of the confused human doctor next to him.

“So, who are you apart from an army doctor, then?”

It would be nice to know the poor guy’s name before they were put right in the middle of a dangerous situation, after all, if at the very least to have something to call him other than ‘not-Doctor’.

"How am I to know what an alien looks like?" John responded in his own defense, feeling a little silly when it was put like that. "For all I know, they could be mutants from beneath the earth's crust...or...or genetic experiments." His mind was simply reeling. He had never been in a situation like this, not in his entire life.

He glanced at the other man once more as he asked after his name. "John Watson." He responded, by way of introduction. "What's your name? All I know is your profession." He had never had anyone introduce themselves by their profession before, but then, he supposed he had done rather the same. It had to be the high stress of the situation. He cast a glance at the aliens now. He wondered whether there was a chance that they could get out of this, or if this was simply it.

“Oh, hello, John Watson!” the Doctor said brightly, offering him a handshake. “I’m the Doctor.”

The aliens urged the two men along, the large group having reappeared in a long, metal corridor, but there was still a definite spring in the Doctor’s step. A brand new alien race that he didn’t recall seeing before… how exciting! Though, in his defense, it was probably one he had seen long ago and they’d evolved since then, as unlikely as it sounded.

“Really, isn’t this brilliant? It’s nearly like we’re getting a tour of their ship! Your first alien spaceship, John, and we’ve only just met! Don’t worry, though, once I know who they are and what they want, I’ll just tell them the usual ‘Earth is defended’ and we’ll be on our merry way!”

Surely it wasn’t normal for a grown man to be so excited about delivering a thinly veiled threat to alien life forms and planning an escape from their spaceship right afterward… but this was the Doctor, and this was a lucky day for him.
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John accepted the handshake, although he was still quite bewildered, as evidenced by the crease between his brows. Why was this man going by an alias? He supposed it had to be that he did not want to give his real name to this alien race. Perhaps he had made a blunder in speaking his out loud.

As they were urged along the corridor, John was unconsciously leaning less heavily on his cane. His limp had lessened as his mind was racing over exciting new details. Yes, exciting. John almost hated himself for it, that even despite his anxiety over it, he could find all this quite exciting. He had gone from the battlefield to dull, daily life and he scarcely knew what to do with himself anymore. This was familiar, the pressure, the adrenaline. John Watson was a man who was very good under pressure.

"Brilliant might not be the word I would use," John said, despite all of this. But he was admittedly curious, and his gaze slid to rest on the taller man. "Do you do this often?" He asked. How many aliens did a human being run into in their lifetime, in order to sound so nonchalant about it?


“Oh yes!” the Doctor said with a broad grin. “All the time! It’s really very exciting, isn’t it?” He reached out to trail one hand across the metal wall as they walked by, until one of their ‘escorts’ made a disapproving sound. He retracted the arm, doing his best to look sheepish, but licked his palm once he was certain none of them were watching. Nearly right after, he made a face and wiped his hand on his leg. These aliens were very far from home, indeed…

A few minutes or so passed, and the walls around them finally opened up into what could only be the control center. More of the creatures were at various types of machinery, though none looked half as impressive as the one in the middle of the room, fiddling with some spherical thing and looking quite bored with the whole situation.

“Ah, hello!” the Doctor exclaimed, even though it seemed very rude to do so. “I heard you were looking for me, is that right?”

“Doctor…” the alien said thoughtfully, peering up at the man. “So it’s true, then…”

“It is,” he agreed readily, not appearing disturbed in the least. “On Earth as usual, too. What seems to be the problem?”

"Well, I suppose." That was the most John was going to admit to at the moment. He felt as though admitting to anything more might seem to be in bad taste, or vaguely masochistic. He was fairly certain that most people were not meant to garner excitement from being abducted! But it was, after everything, something different. And John craved different. He craved absence of routine. Left to his own devices, he woke up at the crack of dawn after a night of restless sleep, drank a big cup of coffee, read the newspaper, went for a walk...it was the same every morning, sometimes with a therapist appointment thrown in for good measure. It was always the same, and it grated on him. This was definitely different.

He shot him a startled glance when the Doctor licked his palm. What on earth was that? That was a strange quirk. But he supposed it was not any stranger than the place they found themselves in. Still, he kept himself rather close to the Doctor. He figured if anyone seemed to know what he was doing, it was him, and he didn't want to be separated from him. He gripped the top of his cane very hard as he glanced between the Doctor and the alien who seemed to be in some position of power.


When the alien didn’t reply right away with his ‘problem’, the Doctor began to get ideas. Gathering a group of humans and demanding them to tell the aliens where he was, bringing along poor John on the off-chance that he was the Doctor, and not answering a direct question whose answer was a vital piece of information? There was something just not right about the whole thing.

“How about this.” He didn’t even pose it as a question. His bright grin faded, being replaced by a serious expression, and he shifted over just a tad to put himself somewhat in front of John. “Who are you working for?”

“Doctor, it’s not like that…”

“They’re paying a lot, then. Enough that you don’t want to risk making them angry. Right. Well. It’s been fun, but I think we’ll be going.”

Their escorts closed behind them, blocking the only known escape route.

“Of course. Bounty hunters. Why didn’t I see it before?” The Doctor reached into his pocket and withdrew his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the ship’s leader. “Well, sorry about the loss, boys, but I think we’ll be going.”

Wait. Bounty hunters? This was escalating rather quickly, wasn't it? Didn't bounty hunters in old western movies collect their marks dead or alive? The first option did not bode well for either of them, because for all he knew, they might just decide that it was wiser to simply kill the both of them, and let their employers choose between corpses as to which was the right man.

He noticed the other man stepping close to him, and almost unconsciously, his grip on his cane shifted slightly, until he was gripping it in such a way that if he needed to, he might swing it at an alien attacker. He hoped that it would not come to that, but John Watson would not go down without a fight.

He left the other man to do that talking. He did not know a great deal about negotiating with alien races. He shot another of those glances sidelong at the object the Doctor whipped out of his pocket. What on earth was that thing? It did not look terribly threatening.


The Doctor got the feeling that John wasn’t too terribly impressed with his screwdriver, but he didn’t give himself time to dwell on it as he hit the button on its side. The spherical thing in the leader’s hands made an ominous clicking sound, and the Doctor spun around to grasp John’s free hand and drag him toward the now-clear entrance of the bridge. Apparently the click hadn’t meant anything good, because the crew had scattered. It didn’t matter much to him – as long as they were out of his way, and he could follow the twisty halls back to the teleporter they’d come in on.

“Come along, John!” he yelled back to the army doctor, not wanting to release the poor man’s wrist in case he fell behind. “We’re not too far, I can have us zapped right back where you came from!”

John was a little less than impressed by the screwdriver, but then, he thought it looked like a toy, like a fake lightsaber, or something. A child's toy. But he supposed the man was bluffing, and maybe the aliens might not know that it was a toy.

And then he was being grabbed by the hand and dragged toward the entrance of the bridge. John did not need to be told twice. He ran, keeping pace with the Doctor, which was a bit of a chore because of those long legs on the other man. And wouldn't you know it? Unbeknownst to John, his limp had vanished entirely, now that he was involved in the excitement of an escape. "You're sure?" He panted. He would hate for this to be all for nothing, this grand escape, only to find that they were surrounded once more. Luckily, at the moment, they seemed to have the jump on these alien creatures.


“Oh yes!”

With them running, it didn’t take long to reach the teleporter. Only then did the Doctor release John’s hand and start fiddling with the controls beside the teleporter, mostly using his screwdriver rather than the buttons. Over the buzzing, he was rapidly muttering to himself. Some snatches could be heard, but they didn’t make much sense… ‘sensor array vortex’, ‘matter stream hyperdrive’, even reversing the ‘delta region’ because of something’s polarity. Finally, he gave a great ‘Aha!’ and withdrew from the console, urging John onto the circle in the floor.

“Come on, then, back to Earth we go!”

He pointed his sonic screwdriver and hit the button, and light swirled around them just as the aliens burst into the room. Within seconds they were standing on green grass, the Doctor still pointing his screwdriver and grinning broadly.
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John was bewildered as to what that device might be, but the Doctor was pointing it at things, and they seemed to be functioning, so he couldn't complain, could he? "What is that thing?" He panted, a little winded from their run, but overall not doing to badly. He was a soldier, after all. He had to be fairly fit, didn't he?

He also had no idea what this man was going on about. It sounded like something from Star Wars, or a science fiction novel. Still, he let the other man urge him into that circle, and yelped when the aliens burst into the room. And they were gone just in the nick of time, too. When he found himself standing on green grass, he felt like kneeling on it and kissing it. But there were more pressing matters afoot. "Right, then." He stated, matter-of-factly. "I think you owe me a little bit of an explanation. Who are you, what were they, and what the bloody hell is going on? This is mad."


The Doctor’s grin faded into a confused expression as he turned to face John. “I told you, John, I’m the Doctor. And those were aliens - bounty hunters, really, only looking to make a bit of money. From what I can figure, they’re very far from home… probably out near Klum and Raxacoricofallapatorius, if I had to hazard a guess.”

Rose hadn’t questioned him so thoroughly… after the initial ‘Doctor what?’ she’d just gone with the flow. Donna hadn’t either, not like this. Well… perhaps like this. At least John wasn’t in a wedding dress.

“Where have you been, John?” he asked after a long moment. “Haven’t you noticed the alien presences here in London the past few years? Two Christmases in a row, huge alien ships, crash landings, killer shop dummies?”

"The Doctor is hardly a name," John responded irritably. "It is a profession. I assumed you were simply using your job title as an alias, but you're telling me that you actually use it as a name?' He looked as confused as ever by this. "You're a doctor, certainly, but Doctor who?"

That next question gave him pause. "Afghanistan. I've not been home for Christmas. I'm an army doctor." He shrugged his shoulders. "My sister's mentioned something briefly when she remembers to write, but you can't always believe everything she has." He assumed that she had been drinking when she wrote him, and had simply written it off as more of her strange rambling. As though just remembering it, he returned his cane to the ground and leaned on it once more.

After a pause, he glanced upwards, like he might see the ship. 'Do you suppose they might come after us?"


“Oh, just the Doctor, nothing else…” the Doctor said offhandedly, too used to the question. “You wouldn’t believe how many people have said exactly that. And this is my sonic screwdriver! Very helpful, really.”

The bit about Afghanistan made him shift his weight uncomfortably. He never really understood why humans waged war against each other, when there were so many things they could amount to in the time they wasted killing everyone!

“They probably will… once they repair the damage. That ball? I inverted the matter stream polarity near the critical region… in the best case scenario, that should cause some of their systems to malfunction.” The Doctor just grinned again and set off in a random direction, leaving John to follow if he so wished. “If they’re after me, they’ll have a hell of a time catching me!”

John decided not to insist on the strangeness of that name. He supposed it didn't matter. What did it matter to him, what this odd man wanted to call himself. "Right. Just the Doctor, then. Got it."

He adjusted the sleeve of his jacket idly, and he felt that adrenaline still thrumming through him. Despite the strangeness, it had been absolutely wild. He was almost ashamed at how much he had missed that sort of thing, in the repetitive day to day life he had been missing.

He did follow, although he would later wonder why that seemed so natural to him. "Where will you go?" He asked, walking a few paces behind him. He moved a bit slower, now that that limp was back. Was he worried about him? Maybe he was. He had this feeling that this man was rather alone, and if he was up against creatures like that, he was indeed a little concerned.


“Oh, well… wherever I’d like. Maybe I’ll pop in on Winston Churchill, he’s an interesting bloke. Or the Titanic, I hear it was beautiful.” The Doctor’s face lit up as he considered his options. “The first Mars colony! Pay a visit to New Earth again, it really was delightful. What do you think, John?”

The Doctor glanced back, beaming at the army doctor behind him. He slowed his pace, just a little, so that he was walking alongside John… which was a tad strange, seeing as John’s legs were so much shorter than his own.

“What about you, John? What will you do, now that you know the truth of the universe?”

Perhaps he could invite John along? The TARDIS was very empty… very quiet. It had been unsettling, ever since he’d dropped Donna off. Rose had been loud… Donna even more so. The silence was driving him a bit mad.

Wait. What. Winston Churchill? The Titanic? Mars? "Are you telling me you can travel through time?" He asked in surprise. Now, that was interesting. John thought history to be fascinating. And the thought of a colony on Mars was fascinating.

John felt a little surge of appreciation when the Doctor matched his pace. It had to take a bit of an effort, when those legs were so terribly long. Granted, John was of a height where he was used to taller people outpacing him.

That next question was a good one. What would he do? "Well. I suppose I need to go to the market, pick up something to eat. Then look into a flatshare, or something. My pension is next to nothing, for living here." He shook his head, with a rueful smile. "Sounds terribly dull, doesn't it, next to Mars and the Titanic."


“Oh, no, it sounds brilliant. You humans… you’re all bloody brilliant. Far too domestic for my tastes, you understand, but brilliant all the same.”

The Doctor laughed brightly. “I can travel through time /and/ space, to anywhere my heart desires! Or yours, John. Anywhere you’d like to go, in all of time and space… I can take you there. If you’d like, of course,” he added quickly, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets.

He leveled a serious look at the army doctor, as serious as he could muster given the excitement of a possible new companion. “But it can be dangerous, John. My days are very often like this.”

John could not quite believe what he was hearing. And his logical side said that it was absolute madness. The man was as likely to mug him, or kidnap him, as to take him on an adventure through time and space. But his gut feeling said no, that this man was genuine. Possibly more genuine than anyone he had ever met, or ever would meet.

He listened quite seriously to that warning, and then responded matter-of-factly, "Then I'd best fetch my medical bag before we leave." Apparently, he thought having the supplies to patch them up if that danger caused injury was a good idea.

And so, he abruptly changed direction. "Come along, Doctor. A detour, and then we can go." He would lead him back to his pathetic little flat, which was rather bare and boring. But he would fill a small bag with extra clothing, since he imagined he might be gone for some time. And with that slung over a shoulder, he retrieved his black medical kit from beside the door. He took one last look at his little flat, and then stepped out into the hall, shutting the door on it.


There was a definite skip to his step as the Doctor followed John through the streets of London back to his flat. While the army doctor packed a few things, the Doctor remained in the main area, really just looking at the few things John did have. It may have been a bit bare, but it certainly wasn’t boring. The Doctor always loved seeing how different people lived… humans were so /interesting/.

Once they had left the flat with John’s two little bags, the Doctor again took the lead… and by taking the lead, he still walked alongside John, but made sure the shorter man didn’t turn any way he didn’t need to. Finally, they reached the alley with the TARDIS, and the Time Lord strolled right up to the box, unlocking its doors and pushing them open. “Come along, then, John, the universe awaits!” he said brightly, heading inside.

He went straight to the console, beginning his usual ritual of button-pushing, lever-pulling, and knob-turning without even pausing to see if John did indeed follow. However, he was mentally counting down until John said the bit he loved most about having someone new inside of his beloved blue box.

John's rooms were quite bare only because he had not had much of a chance to rebuild the life he had had before Afghanistan. He felt like he had just been stuck, caught between the nightmares of the place he had been, and the normalcy of the life he was expected to rejoin. This presented quite the solution.

He did come to a stop once more when the Doctor led him right up to a blue police box. He stared after him. What on earth was this? He was not sure what he had expected. Something a little more futuristic, maybe? And how were they both meant to fit in there? They would be quite close quarters. Still, he came to step in through the open door, and stopped dead once again. "This," He murmured, staring around at the interior. "Is brilliant. How is this even possible? It's bigger on the inside." He observed. He had to lean out and have a look at the exterior again, just to line it up in his head. It was bizarre. He came back inside and shut the door behind himself, staring around.


“I love it when they say that!” the Doctor exclaimed, grinning brightly over his shoulder. “Every time! It’s my favorite bit, really.” He skipped around the console, talking loudly as he did so. “This is the TARDIS. That’s ‘Time And Relative Dimension In Space’. Wonderful name, very fitting. It’s stuck throughout the years, really.”

He paused after a moment and pulled a screen toward him, peering at it. “So, John Watson. All of time and space. Where do you want to go first?” This was his second favorite bit, the first destination, proving just what he did every day to whatever brilliant human he’d picked up, showing them the universe, watching the delight and awe on their faces.
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