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Tweak says, "Son of a bitch"

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The Doctor ([info]fromgallifrey) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-21 19:29:00

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Entry tags:!complete, day 12, location: barn, remy lebeau, the doctor (ten)

Who: The Doctor and Remy LeBeau
What: Friendly fight
When: Day 12: 8AM
Where: Forest, nearest landmark, the Barn
Rating: PG

Status: Complete

The Doctor hadn't slept well. The night before he knew was leading into an even numbered day; an experiment day. It was sad that his mind kept on it like that; kept turning with the desire to anticipate and thwart a foe he could not see. Perhaps that was why the Doctor had such a difficult time pushing his eyes open. He didn't want to wake and see his friends snatched up for someone's trivial idea of a game. He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. What was once the barn was still cluttered with musty couches and spread out among them were the people he'd come to call friends. Each were dozing quietly.

The Doctor saw his opportunity and he made good on it. Pulling on his trainers and slipping out the door he was headed out into the woods. He hadn't forgotten the plans he'd made for the people in charge. He was going to make good on them. Today. Twigs and brush crumpled beneath him as the Doctor moved quietly through the trees. He didn't want to take the road. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He had a singular focus and not one iota of it included anyone else within the glass bubble. Well, unless that person happened to be the Insider.

 A not so quiet sigh escaped the Doctor. The silence was good company in the sense it didn't make his head hurt any more though also bad as it didn't do anything to still his mind. Wheels kept turning at a furious pace. He needed to go to work on things other than barns. He needed to stop being so attached to the people here, even Jack and Sarah Jane perhaps, and do whatever needed to be done. Would there be collateral damage? How about what he'd do to that 'Insider' when he managed to find them? For a man who didn't like battles or wars or violence the Doctor was finding himself sliding into the darker parts of his mind where things didn't reside in the moral - where they just needed to be done.

Today he would start with the Post Office, he would look through the nooks and crannies there, and then he and his torch would head down into the tunnels where he would find the Insider. He would find the insider and he would find out everything that they knew. He would then continue his search for those working with the insider and force them to return everyone. Following that he would destroy the town and it's bubble so that it would never be used again. Finally, he would deposit those behind it all in a cell on Rigaula Seven where they would never age, never know freedom, and never have any hope for rescue. It was those thoughts that kept cycling through the Time Lord's head. Running through on loop again and again. It was like a mantra. Insider, puppeteers, escape, prison. Those same thoughts caused the distant look in the Doctor's eye and the setting of his jaw. He would have his way.


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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-21 07:09 pm UTC (link)
The Doctor had hoped he might manage to find the mutant nonplussed. Instead he'd been countered with a verbal onslaught worthy of the Rani. It made his jaw set and his teeth clench. Worry. It was a side effect. It always came. He always thought he'd managed to choose the most self-sufficient companions and then he'd be worried. He'd worry about losing them on some planet they couldn't even pronounce correctly or forgetting to warn them not to touch any of the rocks. Ever. He'd worry because it was part of his job. Because if you're going to be tour-guide to the cosmos you'd better have your kit together.

The Doctor actually had started to tune out Gambit about half way through his list. He wasn't surprised to hear from the mutant that he thought he was indestructable or immune. It was like dealing with a teenager who'd just learned to dirve. No, they'd never crash their car. Not even at 200 miles an hour. No, not going to happen to them.

"You still haven't answered - what are you playing at?" The Doctor made motion as if to step back and held quite still, his eyes looking down the length of them to illustrate his point, the cajun had mirrored his movements.

"I don't need a caretaker," his voice had returned despite their closeness. There was a subtle inspection going on there. He was picking at the layers. Gambit might have found his way behind the Doctor's defenses for a moment; but, the Doctor now found himself wanting nothing less than complete understanding of the meaning and motives behind the Cajuns purred words.

The Doctor's sneaker clad foot settled back down on the floor and he stood absolutely still. No breath, no blinking, he just was. There was silence in the barn in that moment, and the Doctor didn't seem to receive the clarity that he wanted.

"Enough," the Doctor breathed, this time truly making motion to step backward. He was retreating back into his ego again. It was clear that the Cajun wasn't going to peel back any more layers than he already had - and the Doctor was completely convinced that everything he said had two meanings or more. It was like the other constantly willed him to read between the lines, to try and infer his own connotation. No more.

The Doctor's arms crossed and his eyes flitted away, off to the other corner of the room. He was detatching.

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