(Untitled)

[who_never_would]

A familiar sound echoes through the nearby area - the sound of TARDIS, though a few new frequencies decorate the melody of her engines. The old, blue police box fades into view. As soon as it's entirely solidified, the door opens, and a young man steps out, closing the door behind him gently. He stands there for a few seconds, one hand on the wood

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[marthajonesmd]

Martha frowns for a moment as she eyes this...different Doctor, clad all in black - but she's wearing black, too, a long overcoat reminiscent of her Doctor's, and her eyes are different, too, the only visible evidence of all she's been through.

She tips her chin up as she looks at him, stubbornness evident in the set of her jaw. "I would," she says quietly, but not without conviction.

((ooc: Just throwing something out there to see where it goes. ^^;))

[who_never_would]

The Doctor meets Martha's eyes with his own, and approaches her with the tepid mix of an unpleasant smirk and bewilderment crossing his freckled face. Hands in his pockets, he stands in front of her, gazing down at her in silence for a few moments, because this is not the Martha he remembers either.

"Martha Jones. The little human girl who could. I have you to thank for still standing here." There's a distance in his eyes now, like he's staring through her. "Go on. How would you stop me? Think you could?"

[marthajonesmd]

Yeah, okay, so maybe she hadn't thought that bit all the way through. Still, Martha stands her ground, her back ramrod-straight, gazing coolly up at the Doctor. She still doesn't know what's going on, but she's not afraid.

"How would I stop you?" she echoes, the corners of her lips threatening to twitch upwards into a smile. "Any way necessary. You can't expect me to answer vague threats with concrete answers." There's an inaudible 'Doctor' tacked on to the end of that sentence, hanging there between them - but she's not sure if the title applies any longer, not with the man who's standing in front of her.

[who_never_would]

Oh, but the girl is smart, and that brings one of his more traditional, familiar smiles to his face, if only for a few seconds. He moves swiftly into her personal space, only six inches good breathing room in between them.

"Here's concrete scenario for you, Miss Jones. Or is it Mrs. Jones now? Let's play a game of pretend. You and me, just the two of us. Say I opened up the console of the TARDIS and stared into the heart of time. Rose was human, she couldn't possibly hope to control it, much less understand it. Brave, dear Rose, all she wanted was to keep the rest of us safe. I could. I could turn galaxies to dust, Martha, and him along with them. The universe could be better, and I could make it that way."

There is silence for a moment, and the Doctor stares at her, eyes glittering, almost trembling.

"Would you stop me?" he asks again.

It's almost a plea.

[stardustflying]

"Stop you from what?" Astrid looks vaguely confused, eyeing him curiously. Her Doctor, the one that's vanished, wears black too, but not a suit.

[who_never_would]

The Doctor just stares at her for a moment, and a weak smile crosses his face. "Astrid?" he asks, a touch needlessly. He knows it's her. "But-..." and trails off, still staring.

[stardustflying]

"But wh-..." She works it out almost instantly, parallel universes. The concept of how they can come together here, still lost on her, but you don't need to know how to know it just is.

Her face drops. She's dead to him, to this Doctor. The way he's staring at her, lost for words, drives it home that she's just a creation of his other selves, nothing more.

"Yeah, it's me." She adds sheepishly.

[who_never_would]

Wonderful things, parallel universe. Astrid is practically tackled by this strange version of the Doctor. He flings out his arms and embraces her with near excessive exuberance.

"Astrid!" he cries, pulling her back at arms length to look at her, practically beaming. It's the first time he's really, honestly smiled in so long. "Of course it's you! Who else in the universe could ever be you?"

[not_from_mars]

It's almost amazing, how used he is to all this now: seeing himself in so many ways, so many possible futures. The Doctor - this Doctor - has seen himself changed by the smallest of things. That's the beauty - is it beauty? - of the Nexus.

It's probably why he doesn't look surprised right now.

"Stop you from what?" And his stance mirrors that of his other, voice quiet.

[who_never_would]

Sometimes, the smallest of things can be the impetus for the largest changes in someone's life. The Doctor that stands before himself now has lines on his face that his double does not, has a weariness in his bearing that hopefully the other will never understand and never know. The Doctor's head lolls to one side, a lazily curious gesture.

"From becoming him." He replies, black eyes taking in himself from the outside. It's always peculiar - no, peculiar is too soft of a word, disconcerting is more appropriate - to see what he used to be.

[not_from_mars]

The Doctor studies his other - his future self? And that frightens him just a little -; the suit, the shoes, the stance, but most of all, the face, and finds himself coming just a bit closer. Studying and thinking.

Him. He doesn't have to ask. But there's one thing he does need to ask. "What happened to you?" His voice is soft, quiet, the tone reserved for those moments of pure concern.

[who_never_would]

The other Doctor blinks at him quietly, letting himself study his features. He does not meet his other's eyes, pointedly looking away, anywhere, anywhere else to avoid staring himself in the face.

Shadows lurk under his eyes, deep, almost bruising shadows. How strange it is for a Time Lord, especially this one, to look ... sick? Is that it? This Doctor is so very pale, almost whitewashed in comparison to his mirror, so that the freckles on his face stand out painfully, and the contrast of his haunted eyes is like a pair of inkblots on a white canvas.

"I don't know if I can tell you... time is broken here, we're standing in the same place at the same time, obviously, but..." he pauses, pensive and silent for a few moments.

"Sixty years," he replies, struggling to find the words, and they sort of tumble awkwardly from his thin lips. As if he were largely unused to speaking. "Alone. TARDIS and me. No one else. Lots else in between. Can't say most of it because there's no telling if it'll happen to you."

[watch_is_me]

(HEE, another dark!Doctor. Which would you like, the 'verse in which my Doctor is just the Doctor with the Master's drums, or the crackier one where he's actually the Master in the Doctor's body, the consciousnesses mixed up to make someone new? This fella can be either. BECAUSE AU'S ARE AWESOME.)

Hello, Doctor-in-black. Have another Doctor-in-black, though this one's version of black is his Ninth's version, black leather jacket, black jumper, black trousers-though the shoes are Converse. Black, of course.

He raises an eyebrow at his alternate and his question. "Stop you doing what? Binge-drinking, constructing a paradox machine, leaving your metacrisis in another universe because he did the right thing, dressing like you should carry a gun in a guitar case?"

[who_never_would]

The Doctor-in-Black-Pinstripes, thank you, gives the other Doctor-in-Black a decidedly irritated look, his hand still stuffed in his pockets.

"Stop me from bringing down the entire universe in a ball of flame and turning the rest of it to dust as my whim decides? Since when have I ever taken to binge drinking or making a paradox machine, good god I wouldn't do that to the TARDIS, that was the Master, anyway, are you daft? I left my metacrisis in another universe because he did the right thing AND Because if I'd left him in mine, the entirety of the universe would have turned out to kill him!"

[watch_is_me]

Oh, irritated looks, he can do those. But he won't, for now. For the moment, he'll stick with the incredulous raised eyebrow, and a touch of surprise, his own hands tucked into his pockets.

"That's what your whim decides, is it? The entire universe?"

"And stop me if I heard you wrong, Doctor, but, you said...he did the right thing?"

If the Doctor happens to be listening at all to the mental signature of the Doctor-in-Nine's-Gear, he may notice a familiar rhythm pulsing through it. 1-2-3-4-1-2-3-4.

[who_never_would]

A smile grows around the Doctor's lips, a faint, mad little smile, and his fingers tap out the same rhythm on the outside seam of his pinstripe trousers. He knows that rhythm. There are faint echos of it in his psyche, but they're just echos. Memories.

"The entire universe. It'd be so gorgeous. All black, nothing but black and stardust - just waiting to begin again."

The Doctor cants his head to one side.

"The Daleks murdered so many people, so many innocent people..."

[creag_an_tuire]

"Stop ye from what?" Jamie asks with a smile. He has met Tens before, so he knows it is the Doctor, but he is largely unfamiliar with most things regarding any Doctor other than his own, and as such, doesn't notice the changes.

[who_never_would]

"Oh, destroying the universe, namely, that's all." The Doctor stands with his hands in his pockets, staring at Jaime. Talk about a blast from the past - gods know how long it's been since he's seen this particular companion.

[creag_an_tuire]

Jamie's jaw drops. "Why would ye do something like that?" Oh, this was most certainly not his Doctor, but the others he had met weren't this different. Not even that number Twelve he met was like this!

[who_never_would]

He's not really anyone's Doctor, and that might be the problem.

"Because I'm bored?' he shrugs his suit-coated shoulders.