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The Doctor (fromgallifrey) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,

It was an odd feeling for the Doctor, last and only of his kind, to come across not only another Timelord (clone as he might be); let alone himself. However, upon gazing at his own shape he realize that it was a clone - time was flowing normally around him; there would be no danger of paradoxes or time spatial abnormalities. The world would not be engulfed into a button sized bit by them speaking. That, was a relief. He had worried that all the clones were in fact people taken again from other points in time - THAT would have been dangerous.

"It's nice to see you don't give me a headache just by looking at you," the Doctor said sharply to his clone.

"Psychological jibber jabber whatsit." his face went mushy as he tried to think of a good term, for it. He decided to let it lay. The people here needed ways to feel comfortable and safe and useful and hopeful - the Doctor was working dilligently to give it to him while he worked on ways of getting them out.

"Oh, they're all quite comfortably snug in their beds," he said, closing the gap between he and his clone. "Are those really what my teeth look like?" His lip curled ala Elvis before he trid running his tongue along his lowers. "Ah, could be worse, I might still have those big floppy ears." The Gallifreyan had come to enjoy this form of his - with all it's quirks - mole included.

"So, what sort of business do you have in mind, clone?" His tone was sort of sing song. The Doctor was 973 years old and this situation was a new and unique one for him; though, you wouldn't know it by his tone.