second ✧ [video] ❝all in the hands of a bitter, bitter man❞
[The Doctor is no stranger to violence, despite his personal views. He's certainly not managed to overlook the fact that they're all stuck here because of this war. But it's different, even for him--especially for him--to see what this one entails up close and personal, when he has to stop running away and watch. The journal is open against the console of his grounded time machine, and he's pacing, all the whimsical traces of eccentricity gone from his movements. He's angry, frustrated, and too aware of his position among another group of people he's failed to save.]
So that's the game, eh? You take them from their homes, from their families, from their lives. You send children to fight your battles for you. The mysterious Malnosso, fighting a war you can't win with thinking, breathing, living beings as cannon fodder in just another hugely insignificant conflict. Pressing the children of other worlds to bleed for you in senseless battle, that's something, that's really something.
[He stops pacing, and falls into the couch facing the console, his fingers steepled and pressed against his lips, eyes shut. Several long moments pass. He'd been almost loud before, but now his voice is softer, full of the conviction of someone who knows they can deliver what is being promised. In that way, and in the edge of malice that hasn't been heard in his tone before today but somehow doesn't seem out of place, there is something frightening about him. A nameless, terrible thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies. A small, ironic smile appears for a moment.]
One day, I will leave here, and one day, I will remember. I always remember. Some of them I remember because they were brave and good, but you lot--cowards. Cowards, or just lazy, and frankly, I don't know which is worse. It doesn't matter. I will still remember, and I can guarantee you, this time my conscience will be clear. You have no idea what you're bringing down on yourselves, because I'm beginning to get really angry, and honestly I'm not sure what will happen on that day, that one day when I will remember everything and there won't be anywhere in this universe or any other that you will be able to hide from me. They'll add your names to the stories they tell their children at night, about what happens when the Doctor comes to call on those who have made him angry, and you'll be just another in a very, very long line I've left behind.
[One steady hand massages his forehead, and he sighs before pulling his screwdriver from his pocket. The video cuts with the green light. He is ancient and tired, and when he speaks again he sounds every inch of his long years.]
Anyone who needs--needs anything, send a message through this channel. I've got a medical bay, not the best in the universe, but it's functional.
[The clanking sound of metal against machinery is silenced by the true end of the post.]
((ooc: backdated a bit to the end of the draft))
So that's the game, eh? You take them from their homes, from their families, from their lives. You send children to fight your battles for you. The mysterious Malnosso, fighting a war you can't win with thinking, breathing, living beings as cannon fodder in just another hugely insignificant conflict. Pressing the children of other worlds to bleed for you in senseless battle, that's something, that's really something.
[He stops pacing, and falls into the couch facing the console, his fingers steepled and pressed against his lips, eyes shut. Several long moments pass. He'd been almost loud before, but now his voice is softer, full of the conviction of someone who knows they can deliver what is being promised. In that way, and in the edge of malice that hasn't been heard in his tone before today but somehow doesn't seem out of place, there is something frightening about him. A nameless, terrible thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies. A small, ironic smile appears for a moment.]
One day, I will leave here, and one day, I will remember. I always remember. Some of them I remember because they were brave and good, but you lot--cowards. Cowards, or just lazy, and frankly, I don't know which is worse. It doesn't matter. I will still remember, and I can guarantee you, this time my conscience will be clear. You have no idea what you're bringing down on yourselves, because I'm beginning to get really angry, and honestly I'm not sure what will happen on that day, that one day when I will remember everything and there won't be anywhere in this universe or any other that you will be able to hide from me. They'll add your names to the stories they tell their children at night, about what happens when the Doctor comes to call on those who have made him angry, and you'll be just another in a very, very long line I've left behind.
[One steady hand massages his forehead, and he sighs before pulling his screwdriver from his pocket. The video cuts with the green light. He is ancient and tired, and when he speaks again he sounds every inch of his long years.]
Anyone who needs--needs anything, send a message through this channel. I've got a medical bay, not the best in the universe, but it's functional.
[The clanking sound of metal against machinery is silenced by the true end of the post.]
((ooc: backdated a bit to the end of the draft))