The Doctor (fishycustard) wrote in the_tardis_trap, @ 2013-07-11 10:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | the 11th doctor (au) : fishycustard |
Who: Tempus
When: The Past
Where: Possibly Bethlehem Mental Asylum
What: The doctor is now in session.
Warnings: None.
Important Notes: This is a short story I wrote a couple of years ago when I first started playing Tempus in tabletop. Back when I knew nothing about SLA Industries and yet took part in a very large group tabletop game with this character, barely knowing the setting. After that long game, I wrote this story. After he had been taken away by Mr Slayer. This is a part of his past and something I wanted to share with you all.
Additional Notes: Feel free to comment with any thoughts or questions. =)
"Tell me about your Father..." The Doctor's index fingers came to meet forming a point; his other fingers clasped together, thumbs resting against his lips in a thoughtful manner. His soft grey eyes peered from behind a pair of glasses, a dullness to them that could only be associated with years of working in his particular line of work. He was a fairly middle aged man, his grey hair receding back from the front of his scalp leaving a slight tuft above his forehead and a perfectly circular bald spot crowning his short tufty hair. His clothing, sensible and smart, his posture, straight and confident, his appearance was there with a purpose. As with most professions, that purpose was to look professional, to seem trustworthy.
The office reflected quite a lot about the good doctor too, in a very generic round about way. It was all so very simple. Clean and polished, nothing too offensive for the eye. A potted plant here and there, paintings, a simple desk, soft greeny blue coloured carpet and cream coloured walls. It had an air of professional care to it. As did the man working there. This was a man who had seen a lot in his days of working as a doctor. But nothing quite like his current patient. Tempus...
It wasn't like Tempus was particularly odd looking. Far from it. At a first glance, you could almost swear he was human. Just... your average human. Tall and skinny with floppy brown hair, large brown eyes and an odd taste in clothing, wearing suits with running shoes. And that's about as strange as things got appearance wise. What made him stand out lay deeper than a simple physical shell. There was a wisdom that sparkled deep in those strange brown eyes. Wisdom, depth and so many tales... Masked with a mischievous madness, distraction with a cheeky smile.
"My Father?" Tempus replied. He paused and leaned back on the couch, his arms supporting his head, crossed over behind himself. "If you’re implying that he has some sort of importance on anything you're very wrong. Monkeys work like that... I don't" he said.
"Interesting painting" he said, biting the inside of his lip, focusing all his attention on the art work on the wall opposite him. "It's not real though, you know that, right? I mean, it's meant to look like Ebon art work but it's clearly a forgery... " he added.
"That's not important..." The Doctor replied patiently.
"Really?" he paused and turned his head just enough to look at the Doctor. "If you insist... You know it would have been considered a crime to own a forgery of one of Leonardo DaVinci's pieces, or Monet's but you can buy an Ebon rip off dirt cheap on the market and not pay a penalty.... Sad days... Shadra's got some beautiful heart breaking work..."
"Tell me about your Father" The Doctor repeated.
"No..." he replied simply.
"Then perhaps you call tell me why you're evading my question and why you're here in the first place?" The Doctor asked. He always maintained the same flat, dull tone of voice.
"Ah now that's two questions... Two with completely different answers" Tempus replied, looking up towards the ceiling. "You're new to your job, aren't you?" he asked, giving the Doctor an odd look.
"I believe... Mr Tempus. That you are avoiding the question for the same reasons you are here" he replied.
Tempus raised an eyebrow. "And how did you come to that conclusion?"
"Secrecy, Mr Tempus" he replies, picking up a folder from the coffee table. He flicked it open and glanced, adjusting his glasses to sit further up the bridge of his nose. "You came here claiming to be someone you're not and there is no record of you. We are here simply to understand a few things about you, that is all. You will not be harmed"
Tempus kept those large dark brown eyes focused on the doctor. "Yet..." he replied. "And why exactly are you evaluating me?"
"I can't share that information with you" the doctor replied. He paused as if taking great care with conjuring up his next question. This was going to be tricky. "Can you tell me why you're sitting here now? With me, in this room, under the circumstances you are in?"
"I think we both know the answer to that question" Tempus replied. Memories flickered by in the form of moving projections in his mind, cast out in a grand cinematic light. The portal, the stranger. Disappearing and reappearing in that room with Mr Slayer. The sickness he felt when he appeared in that room, how his head spun and pulsed, gripping at every fibre of his physical being.
"You have no reason to remain so private, so hidden. It's just you... and me here. No one else, no need for secrets. Help me understand" The Doctor said calmly.
"The universe is full of secrets. Lies and deception" Tempus replied. "You should try and get used to that, Doctor"
"Please... continue. What makes you say that?" the doctor asked, returning to his statuesque, blank and thoughtful pose.
"Experience" he smirked a touch, turning his head to look back up at the ceiling. "You have to be careful with your trust. Common universal morals are as rare a sunny day on Mort... Ethics have been long forgotten and all that's left? Well it's all around you. The horror and savage nature of the universe itself, consumed by greed and warfare, covered and shielded with lie after lie, mystery upon mystery. And so truth has become a currency in itself. Or at the very least a means of getting something. Information has always been important but in this day and age? It's worth more than gold" he said, his eyes scanning the ceiling. With each word, an emotion sparked in his eyes. A shimmer, a spark.... a feeling, dark in depth pooling deeper and deeper still. "People are willing to give their very lives for truth. and in a world... a universe so full of trickery, focused on masks and cover ups, well those types of people might be just the very thing we all need... to save us all"
The Doctor nodded. "Continue... how does that make you feel?" he asked.
"All sorts of things really" he replied. "The Universe is a vast and beautiful place... or at least it used to be. And then the wars raged on for years... so many years. For three days the storms on white Earth roared and rumbled and then, the storm's raging ceased and... it all changed. For everyone. The day he arrived and stepped out of the blue to save us all" One of his arms flopped down by his side and dangled over the edge of the sofa he lay on. "The fighting never stopped... all he did was deceive and trick everyone" he paused and stared, his brown eyes now narrowed. ”He told them he could stop the wars and all the while he was selling his weapons to anyone who wanted them, no matter which side they were on.... I tried to make people listen. Tell them that they were being lied to but they wouldn't listen..." There was a long pause.
”So many lives lost and for... what?" His voice was quiet, drifting through his tones, his words carried weight to them... they bore a sadness and pain never forgotten. "Worlds fallen and forgotten in the blink of an eye. Entire civilisations, gone... and who will tell their tale? Who will sing their song? And who will keep the embers of their memory alive?" he paused, his sadness changing so fiercely, so swiftly to anger. He sat upright and clenched a fist tight by his side. "World after world changed and turned in the mighty name of S L A! Changed for wealth and power" he snapped, getting up to his feet. "All that wonder and beauty taken away for what? More production, more wealth... more pointless death after pointless death from a man who promised so much and all for the mere price of your soul and the heads of your entire race! Of course... he was always good at hiding the part no one wants to hear, wasn't he? Always had offers that sounded too good to be true... The body count is his and no other"
"Tell me about your home..." The Doctor asked. He seemed completely unphased by Tempus's change in mood, his now obvious aggression.
"There's nothing to tell" he replied, shooting what could only be described as a rather dirty look, in the Doctors direction.
"Does your home still exist?" the Doctor asked.
Tempus remained silent a moment. He was simply trying to stay calm. But his hearts pounded in his chest, his blood raced through his veins... And all he could think about was escaping and putting an end to Mr Slayer for what he had done. "I don't have a home..." he replied eventually.
"When we lose someone, or something... it's very common to go into a phase of what we call 'denial'. Now it's very common..."
Tempus did not let him finish his sentence. Swiftly, he moved towards the doctor and grabbed him by the collar, teeth clenched, his dark eyes staring deeply into the other man's dull grey eyes. "I've seen things that would put you in front of a doctor with a prescription list longer than your past patient list. I've lived through and seen things I will never forget as long as I live and what I choose to keep to myself, I will. No one holds any power over me but me, do you understand?! My people have always survived! We persevere, we endure... and do not falter for anyone! You want to know more about me? I am the very person you do not want to make an enemy out of!"
In a state of panic, the doctor, yelled and screamed for help. The door behind Tempus flew open and before he had a chance to react, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck... and all went dark.