InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Only he's kinda old."

the fourteenth doctor; doctor who (doctorfun) wrote in thedisplaced,
@ 2017-10-14 04:24:00

Entry tags:

!log/thread, doctor (10), doctor (12)

who ten & twelve
what all about clara
where twelve's TARDIS
when before martha's sleepover
warnings spoilers for season 9 of doctor who?
status in progress!

This wasn't meant to be an easy conversation. The mechanics of it would be difficult, as he had reservations about whether the elder regeneration would even remember it the next day. He would have to choose his words carefully, dance around the topic, and use mere hypothetical scenarios. Just to be safe.

It was with a heavier heart that he parked the TARDIS next to her match. The Doctor opened the door and observed the exterior of the much older one in front of him. Then, he snapped. The doors behind him closed and the ones in front of him opened. With a quirk of a grin, he tucked his hands into his coat pockets and strode inside.

Almost immediately, his smile waned.

"What?" He looked up and around at the design, expression growing more cross by the second. "Oh, this is -- this is--" He bit his tongue. He hadn't promised not to insult it, but he thought of his sour impression loudly. "Right. Hello!" He peeked around the console to find the other man. "Ready for that chat?"

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twelfth_doctor
2017-10-14 01:46 am UTC (link)

From the upper mezzanine which encircled the outer perimeter of the Control Room, the Doctor was standing at the chalkboard, scribbling notes that made sense only to him. He'd heard the door to the TARDIS open, and noticed his past-self enter, but remained silent, observing his reaction. There was always a sort of pissing contest between regenerations, especially when it came to the current alterations in the desktop theme. Twelve rolled his eyes at Ten when he heard him begin to complain. The corner of his mouth quirked into a small smirk - he might as well take the piss, just like all the regenerations before him.

"Say what you want to say and get it over with. What don't you like?"

He set his chalk down and strolled to the stairs, walking down to Ten's level.

"I am. You said I was in danger?"

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doctorfun
2017-10-31 01:18 pm UTC (link)

What didn't he like? Where did he begin? It wasn't his TARDIS, but then it would be one day. The Doctor, as he was then, loathed change. He'd been so close to his own end before being brought to Mount Weather, parted even longer from the TARDIS, that he would cling to her coral desktop until he regenerated again.

"It's moody," he remarked with the sneer he'd barely managed to restrain. "Suppose that suits you though, doesn't it?"

With a shrug, the Doctor's jacket came off along with his indifference. Tossing it on the console, he promptly turned to lean against it with arms folded over his chest. Feet crossed at the ankles and glasses framed just so, he scrunched his nose while mulling over how to approach the situation.

"Danger's a strong word," he responded. "Did the trick getting you to meet me, and that's all that matters. Have a look at your pocket, should be a card in there. Tell me what it says."

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twelfth_doctor
2017-11-05 03:44 pm UTC (link)

"Moody?" he exclaimed, party offended, but also confused. With the bookcases, and chalk boards, and sitting places, the Doctor had intended something entirely different. Besides, what was more moody than Hair Gel's cavernous desktop theme, with all sorts of twisty things that resembled an underwater scene, or maybe the branches of an ancient tree? But he knew there was no use in arguing about it, because it was a matter of taste. So he just pursed his lips tightly together and huffed and turned his back to his former self.

When told to look for a card, he paused wrinkled his forehead and patted his suit down, and found not a card, but several in the inner breast pocket of his jacket. He pulled them out and looked them over curiously - he didn't know they were even in there - and then began to read.

The words in Clara's handwriting described who Clara was and his condition, and the longer he read, he more angry he became, until he snarled out loud, "Damn it!" How many times had he'd gone through this before? There was no way of telling. He tuned to the Other Doctor and pointedly said, "I need this neural block removed."

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