inbox (asgard
May. 9th, 2020 04:27 pmYou've reached the Doctor. I'm not available just now, but leave me a note and I'll see about getting back to you.
[text | voice | video]
[text | voice | video]
the wing meme
Jul. 9th, 2013 07:37 pm[flashy image of wings goes here]
What's that? You're suddenly not feeling well? You sink down, shuddering, as you feel your blood pool in your back. There's an intense pain beneath the surface, and then---wings, extending freely from your back, of quite the inconvenience to anything you might've been wearing. They've taken on a form that reflects you...feathery like a bird's? Glowing with energy like a circuit? Leathery like a bat's? Mechanical, cloth?
Whatever it is that's on your back, regardless of how unlikely it seems with the wingspan and your body's weight, they'll work. You can fly. Call it magic, call it gravity manipulation, whatever it is...you can fly.
Have fun explaining this to your friends and sorting things out.
What's that? You're suddenly not feeling well? You sink down, shuddering, as you feel your blood pool in your back. There's an intense pain beneath the surface, and then---wings, extending freely from your back, of quite the inconvenience to anything you might've been wearing. They've taken on a form that reflects you...feathery like a bird's? Glowing with energy like a circuit? Leathery like a bat's? Mechanical, cloth?
Whatever it is that's on your back, regardless of how unlikely it seems with the wingspan and your body's weight, they'll work. You can fly. Call it magic, call it gravity manipulation, whatever it is...you can fly.
Have fun explaining this to your friends and sorting things out.
Asgard app
May. 8th, 2013 11:19 pmOOC Information;
Name; Zoki
Personal Journal;![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azora_mysta
Contact; keyzooazul [at] gmail [dot] com
Other Characters; N/A
Activity proof; N/A
IC Information;
Character Name; The Doctor (9th)
Canon; Doctor Who (Wiki)
Canon Point; Episode Bad Wolf, Rose's 'death'
Age; Claims to be 900 years old. At minimum the 'centuries old' claim is accurate, though he is known to lie about his exact age.
House; Hel
Power; Shadow control
Personality;
Do you know like we were saying? About the Earth revolving?
It's like when you're a kid. The first time they tell you that the world's turning and you just can't quite believe it 'cause everything looks like it's standing still. I can feel it. The turn of the earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and the entire planet is hurtling around the sun at 67 thousand miles an hour and I can feel it. We're falling through space, you and me, clinging to the skin of this tiny little world and if we let go---
That's who I am. Now forget me.
Meet the Doctor, a lone man with a long life traveling through time and space in a lovely space vessel disguised as a blue police box. He can go just about anywhere or anywhen and do just about anything, but he finds himself attracted to planet Earth (and London in particular) time and time again. He passes through historical events like a shadow, nearly always following disaster. He's witnessed an endless number of deaths over the centuries, but no matter how bleak the situation, he always comes back to try to find the beauty in life and save who he can.
The Doctor began his life as a typical Time Lord of Gallifrey, a member of a high society with a duty to observe the passing of time, never to interfere with the timeline. But that style of life was far too boring for him as a young lad. Though he held a certain contempt for humanity at first (a trait that still surfaces sometimes), he learned over the years to see the compassion, love, and faith that people show to each other and to appreciate the beauty that the universe can hold in infinite ways.
It helped that he kept company in his space vessel most of the time---often he would arrive at the site of a conflict, there would be a curious person poking where they shouldn't, and he would make the offer to those beings he deemed worthy. The adjustment period was always rough, because his long view of time and years of experience naturally meant his priorities and valuing of life differed from most others. But there was always a spark to bring him back to loving all forms of life. The adventurous people who chose to travel with the Doctor inflated his ego, helped him relate to others, and most importantly served as friends, though the short life cycles of most people meant they must always leave him after a short while. He went on, always a little lonelier than before as the centuries passed.
Not even a being as long-lived as the Doctor could live forever in the same body, and so his face has changed time and time again over the years. When his body was too severely damaged to heal, when an ordinary being would die he regenerated, changing every cell in his body into a new form. This tended to happen at moments of great personal trauma for the Doctor, so there was always an accompanying shift in his personality, though his history and his core remained the same. The face the Doctor wears now is his ninth, though paradoxically it looks far younger than the faces of some of his younger selves.
The trauma that triggered the Doctor's most recent regeneration was the Last Great Time War, a devastating conflict across time and space between two of the more aware races of the universe, the Daleks and the Time Lords. The Doctor personally witnessed the deaths of many planets and species, and he was forced into decisions that ultimately resulted in the near-annihilation of both the Daleks and the Time Lords. At the time, he believed he was the sole survivor of the war, and he bore the knowledge of the war alone. The conflict never touched humanity or any of the other lower races, so it remained his secret to carry. And the guilt for what he'd done followed him with every move he made, reflected in the face of every being who lost a home because of him.
Even the loss of his home planet and his people couldn't exterminate his long-standing need to interfere with attempts to destroy the human race. Nothing could stamp out the old seemingly futile streak of heroism, though it might be said this was done out of a need to atone. He flitted through history immediately after the war: rescuing a family from their original fate on board the Titanic, an appearance at the Krakatoa explosion, and a quick stop at the Kennedy assassination, likely to stop an even worse outcome.
Everything changed when he met Rose Tyler, a plucky but aimless young woman with a surprising amount of wit and a strong survival instinct. The Doctor she met was an enigma to her: a wisecracking, seemingly street-smart guy in a leather jacket with an odd amount of glee at the thought of blowing up her shop to save the world. He seemed to regard everyone around him as beneath him. He rudely scoffed at her worry over her mother and her boyfriend as domestic concerns, far less important than the fate of the universe. She later found out that this was because he was in fact alien, but that didn't matter to her as much as his spirit of adventure. He represented something missing from her life, and against all the odds, despite his tough-talk, he seemed to care for her enough to do everything to keep her alive, even when he was sure he was about to die. When she bravely saved his life in a confrontation with Earth's latest invaders, the deal was sealed. He invited her to travel with him, just like the old days.
Rose's presence and actions went a long way toward calming the storm of his bitter loneliness and rage. He clashed with most of the people he met: Rose's mother Jackie was far too overbearing and ridiculously petty for his tastes, boyfriend Mickey was too stupid and cowardly (referred to as 'Ricky' or 'Mickey the idiot'), their eventual new companion Jack was too flirty and encroaching on his budding something-more relationship with Rose, and he was even impatient with dear Rose when they first met. But the longer he traveled with her, the more he realized that her instincts were often right. She unearthed his war-buried faith and kindness, and after quite a while he was far less trigger-happy and far more inclined to give people a chance to redeem themselves.
The Doctor's wounds from the war are still raw, and nothing pushes his buttons faster than a no-win scenario. He rages at the unfairness of the world. When he learned that the Daleks had survived the Time War, he felt great pain over the fact that his people had not survived as well, that the horrible choice he'd made now felt meaningless. If pressed into a similar situation, he will throw everything he has against it, desperate to find any other way than to repeat the same mistake. But he has a remarkable tendency to retreat toward the dark solution that seems obvious in his mind: sacrificing himself, ridding the world of his curse.
At higher points in his life, that burning need to save, that knowledge that he needs to always know what to do, led him to have quite an inflated opinion of himself. Even now he is still infatuated with his own cleverness at times and fairly bossy, declaring at one point that 'I am so impressive!' but his sorrow and need for repentance have quelled the old overbearing ego somewhat. It only surfaces in earnest now when he's ablaze with passion, desperately fighting a battle that he absolutely must win. Heaven help you if you're a Dalek.
Because the hero inside him is still there. No matter how many deaths he witnesses on his journey, he spares a moment of silence for them whenever he can. On one recent adventure, when he finally encountered a way to cure all the people seemingly killed, when 'everybody lives, just once', he felt a rapturous joy so great that he could only express it through triumphant shouting and dancing. These are the actions and this is the full smile of a man who's lost everything far too many times to count.
He's finally allowed the faintest spark of hope to re-ignite within himself at the prospect of living a life of adventure with Rose, allowing himself to temporarily forget that these things almost never end well for his chosen companions. And eventually, the usual end comes. The Doctor, Rose, and Jack are ensnared in a trap. The Doctor and Jack barely escape a deadly round of game shows with their lives, but Rose, the woman he's started to allow himself to love, isn't so lucky. As she races toward him, she's zapped, seemingly disintegrated into dust in front of their eyes.
Frozen with shock, grief flooding his expression to eventually give way to a great explosion of fury, the Doctor is hauled away. And this is where Asgard takes him.
Samples;
Network Sample;
[[video]]
[The Doctor is fiddling with a home-made string instrument that looks like a more sophisticated version of rubber bands on an oddly shaped box, plucking and listening to the sounds he makes. It's oddly nostalgic to be making music again, but it has a somewhat different meaning to him now.]
You know what they say about music, right? Great universal language of the world? I can speak just about anything, and to be honest some words wouldn't be a great loss to me if I couldn't understand them, but music, music is art! It's great, isn't it, hammering away on the piano or plucking at the harp with everything you've got.
And then there are the great instruments you lot have never even heard of. You play it with your feet, pushing the air. Sort of like a fusion between bike pedals and a theremin. Don't laugh, I assure you that I'm completely serious. Played it once, burst some eardrums. Got kicked right out of that nightclub, and I never played in that town again.
[He laughs, a quick bark-like sound, and leans forward, resting the odd instrument on one knee and draping his arm over the other.]
Anyway, like I was saying. Music. Language. You can express just about anything with it if you've got the talent, though for some reason you lot seem to focus excessively on whether someone likes you enough to give you a smooch. Maybe more, if you're lucky. You've gotta get in the mood to dance somehow, right?
But personally, if I was writing the music, I'd pick something else. I like to call this piece 'High Tide'.
[He shifts into position, rotating every part like he's preparing for a great athletic endeavor. When he's ready, he plucks at the strings violently, producing loud sounds that almost sound like the crashing of waves. It's clear that he doesn't quite have the talent with this particular instruments. It sounds like the musical equivalent of repeatedly pounding a punching bag until it breaks.]
No need to thank me.
[He bows rigidly, as if he knows he's being ridiculous. Doesn't matter, he's having a good time. Mostly.]
Log Sample;
The Doctor walks (not runs) straight ahead, eyes open, stare blank. His hands are balled tight in the pockets of his leather jacket, but other than that he strives to project a calm, blank, uncaring presence of nothingness as he considers all that has happened very recently.
He's fallen into a trap. He's ensnared in yet another war. He's cut off from his TARDIS and the flow of time, bound to the earth for the first time in centuries. But even then was better than now---his senses feel oddly muted, like a veil's been thrown over him. A black veil, for mourning. Because the last fact he thinks is the most painful: Rose, his Rose, the woman who'd brought him back from the brink. She's dead.
Just like that, his guiding light extinguished. When did she become that important? Is it that he needed anyone who would accept him after what he'd done? Someone who saw him as the man who did great deeds? Or just someone who laughed and danced with him, staying no matter how scary it got? Probably all those things and more. And she's gone, because someone like him doesn't deserve her. Because he was bound to lose her, because death follows him wherever he goes.
And here is is, trapped in another place with people who need him to help save the worlds. The universe. Again, him? It's his inescapable destiny, isn't it, to be tormented with the lives of people hanging in the balance, with all the happy lives he wants them to have and he can never succeed, of course not, because---
A dull sense of pain filters into his consciousness. He's kicked at a wall without knowing it, doing nothing but sending an ache up his leg. He rubs is knee for just one second and sharply turns a corner, heading for a wider and emptier street where he'll have the space to think.
Really, he should just let the world burn away into nothing. Wouldn't that be something? He can just stop himself from lifting a finger and let it all die. The journey on the road to nowhere would finally be over, it would be as empty as this street, he'd be free---
But would he?
His steps falter and he slows, head turning to truly look at the faces around him for the first time since his arrival. Far from the flames of despair in his own mind, he sees more mundane worries. Fears. Hopes. Even happiness, as two people walked by holding hands. Domestics.
The word sends a sharp pain through his hearts and he almost doubles over, but he skids safely to a stop, leaning one shoulder against the nearest shop wall.
No, he isn't jumping at the call to be a hero again. Was he ever a hero? But no matter how badly he wantes to turn his back, he never will. There's not even a question. Because all those little leaves on the tree of life are precious, aren't they? Every one saved means that perhaps another life will be well lived. His old friends from years past will survive, even if he can never face them again.
It hurts this much because something precious had existed, and now that someone is gone---that's what a more romantic soul would say, but he finds himself clinging to the notion as he turned his gaze to the sky.
He can't stop fighting, not now. There's still a price hanging 'round his head that needs to be paid.
Name; Zoki
Personal Journal;
azora_mystaContact; keyzooazul [at] gmail [dot] com
Other Characters; N/A
Activity proof; N/A
IC Information;
Character Name; The Doctor (9th)
Canon; Doctor Who (Wiki)
Canon Point; Episode Bad Wolf, Rose's 'death'
Age; Claims to be 900 years old. At minimum the 'centuries old' claim is accurate, though he is known to lie about his exact age.
House; Hel
Power; Shadow control
Personality;
Do you know like we were saying? About the Earth revolving?
It's like when you're a kid. The first time they tell you that the world's turning and you just can't quite believe it 'cause everything looks like it's standing still. I can feel it. The turn of the earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and the entire planet is hurtling around the sun at 67 thousand miles an hour and I can feel it. We're falling through space, you and me, clinging to the skin of this tiny little world and if we let go---
That's who I am. Now forget me.
Meet the Doctor, a lone man with a long life traveling through time and space in a lovely space vessel disguised as a blue police box. He can go just about anywhere or anywhen and do just about anything, but he finds himself attracted to planet Earth (and London in particular) time and time again. He passes through historical events like a shadow, nearly always following disaster. He's witnessed an endless number of deaths over the centuries, but no matter how bleak the situation, he always comes back to try to find the beauty in life and save who he can.
The Doctor began his life as a typical Time Lord of Gallifrey, a member of a high society with a duty to observe the passing of time, never to interfere with the timeline. But that style of life was far too boring for him as a young lad. Though he held a certain contempt for humanity at first (a trait that still surfaces sometimes), he learned over the years to see the compassion, love, and faith that people show to each other and to appreciate the beauty that the universe can hold in infinite ways.
It helped that he kept company in his space vessel most of the time---often he would arrive at the site of a conflict, there would be a curious person poking where they shouldn't, and he would make the offer to those beings he deemed worthy. The adjustment period was always rough, because his long view of time and years of experience naturally meant his priorities and valuing of life differed from most others. But there was always a spark to bring him back to loving all forms of life. The adventurous people who chose to travel with the Doctor inflated his ego, helped him relate to others, and most importantly served as friends, though the short life cycles of most people meant they must always leave him after a short while. He went on, always a little lonelier than before as the centuries passed.
Not even a being as long-lived as the Doctor could live forever in the same body, and so his face has changed time and time again over the years. When his body was too severely damaged to heal, when an ordinary being would die he regenerated, changing every cell in his body into a new form. This tended to happen at moments of great personal trauma for the Doctor, so there was always an accompanying shift in his personality, though his history and his core remained the same. The face the Doctor wears now is his ninth, though paradoxically it looks far younger than the faces of some of his younger selves.
The trauma that triggered the Doctor's most recent regeneration was the Last Great Time War, a devastating conflict across time and space between two of the more aware races of the universe, the Daleks and the Time Lords. The Doctor personally witnessed the deaths of many planets and species, and he was forced into decisions that ultimately resulted in the near-annihilation of both the Daleks and the Time Lords. At the time, he believed he was the sole survivor of the war, and he bore the knowledge of the war alone. The conflict never touched humanity or any of the other lower races, so it remained his secret to carry. And the guilt for what he'd done followed him with every move he made, reflected in the face of every being who lost a home because of him.
Even the loss of his home planet and his people couldn't exterminate his long-standing need to interfere with attempts to destroy the human race. Nothing could stamp out the old seemingly futile streak of heroism, though it might be said this was done out of a need to atone. He flitted through history immediately after the war: rescuing a family from their original fate on board the Titanic, an appearance at the Krakatoa explosion, and a quick stop at the Kennedy assassination, likely to stop an even worse outcome.
Everything changed when he met Rose Tyler, a plucky but aimless young woman with a surprising amount of wit and a strong survival instinct. The Doctor she met was an enigma to her: a wisecracking, seemingly street-smart guy in a leather jacket with an odd amount of glee at the thought of blowing up her shop to save the world. He seemed to regard everyone around him as beneath him. He rudely scoffed at her worry over her mother and her boyfriend as domestic concerns, far less important than the fate of the universe. She later found out that this was because he was in fact alien, but that didn't matter to her as much as his spirit of adventure. He represented something missing from her life, and against all the odds, despite his tough-talk, he seemed to care for her enough to do everything to keep her alive, even when he was sure he was about to die. When she bravely saved his life in a confrontation with Earth's latest invaders, the deal was sealed. He invited her to travel with him, just like the old days.
Rose's presence and actions went a long way toward calming the storm of his bitter loneliness and rage. He clashed with most of the people he met: Rose's mother Jackie was far too overbearing and ridiculously petty for his tastes, boyfriend Mickey was too stupid and cowardly (referred to as 'Ricky' or 'Mickey the idiot'), their eventual new companion Jack was too flirty and encroaching on his budding something-more relationship with Rose, and he was even impatient with dear Rose when they first met. But the longer he traveled with her, the more he realized that her instincts were often right. She unearthed his war-buried faith and kindness, and after quite a while he was far less trigger-happy and far more inclined to give people a chance to redeem themselves.
The Doctor's wounds from the war are still raw, and nothing pushes his buttons faster than a no-win scenario. He rages at the unfairness of the world. When he learned that the Daleks had survived the Time War, he felt great pain over the fact that his people had not survived as well, that the horrible choice he'd made now felt meaningless. If pressed into a similar situation, he will throw everything he has against it, desperate to find any other way than to repeat the same mistake. But he has a remarkable tendency to retreat toward the dark solution that seems obvious in his mind: sacrificing himself, ridding the world of his curse.
At higher points in his life, that burning need to save, that knowledge that he needs to always know what to do, led him to have quite an inflated opinion of himself. Even now he is still infatuated with his own cleverness at times and fairly bossy, declaring at one point that 'I am so impressive!' but his sorrow and need for repentance have quelled the old overbearing ego somewhat. It only surfaces in earnest now when he's ablaze with passion, desperately fighting a battle that he absolutely must win. Heaven help you if you're a Dalek.
Because the hero inside him is still there. No matter how many deaths he witnesses on his journey, he spares a moment of silence for them whenever he can. On one recent adventure, when he finally encountered a way to cure all the people seemingly killed, when 'everybody lives, just once', he felt a rapturous joy so great that he could only express it through triumphant shouting and dancing. These are the actions and this is the full smile of a man who's lost everything far too many times to count.
He's finally allowed the faintest spark of hope to re-ignite within himself at the prospect of living a life of adventure with Rose, allowing himself to temporarily forget that these things almost never end well for his chosen companions. And eventually, the usual end comes. The Doctor, Rose, and Jack are ensnared in a trap. The Doctor and Jack barely escape a deadly round of game shows with their lives, but Rose, the woman he's started to allow himself to love, isn't so lucky. As she races toward him, she's zapped, seemingly disintegrated into dust in front of their eyes.
Frozen with shock, grief flooding his expression to eventually give way to a great explosion of fury, the Doctor is hauled away. And this is where Asgard takes him.
Samples;
Network Sample;
[[video]]
[The Doctor is fiddling with a home-made string instrument that looks like a more sophisticated version of rubber bands on an oddly shaped box, plucking and listening to the sounds he makes. It's oddly nostalgic to be making music again, but it has a somewhat different meaning to him now.]
You know what they say about music, right? Great universal language of the world? I can speak just about anything, and to be honest some words wouldn't be a great loss to me if I couldn't understand them, but music, music is art! It's great, isn't it, hammering away on the piano or plucking at the harp with everything you've got.
And then there are the great instruments you lot have never even heard of. You play it with your feet, pushing the air. Sort of like a fusion between bike pedals and a theremin. Don't laugh, I assure you that I'm completely serious. Played it once, burst some eardrums. Got kicked right out of that nightclub, and I never played in that town again.
[He laughs, a quick bark-like sound, and leans forward, resting the odd instrument on one knee and draping his arm over the other.]
Anyway, like I was saying. Music. Language. You can express just about anything with it if you've got the talent, though for some reason you lot seem to focus excessively on whether someone likes you enough to give you a smooch. Maybe more, if you're lucky. You've gotta get in the mood to dance somehow, right?
But personally, if I was writing the music, I'd pick something else. I like to call this piece 'High Tide'.
[He shifts into position, rotating every part like he's preparing for a great athletic endeavor. When he's ready, he plucks at the strings violently, producing loud sounds that almost sound like the crashing of waves. It's clear that he doesn't quite have the talent with this particular instruments. It sounds like the musical equivalent of repeatedly pounding a punching bag until it breaks.]
No need to thank me.
[He bows rigidly, as if he knows he's being ridiculous. Doesn't matter, he's having a good time. Mostly.]
Log Sample;
The Doctor walks (not runs) straight ahead, eyes open, stare blank. His hands are balled tight in the pockets of his leather jacket, but other than that he strives to project a calm, blank, uncaring presence of nothingness as he considers all that has happened very recently.
He's fallen into a trap. He's ensnared in yet another war. He's cut off from his TARDIS and the flow of time, bound to the earth for the first time in centuries. But even then was better than now---his senses feel oddly muted, like a veil's been thrown over him. A black veil, for mourning. Because the last fact he thinks is the most painful: Rose, his Rose, the woman who'd brought him back from the brink. She's dead.
Just like that, his guiding light extinguished. When did she become that important? Is it that he needed anyone who would accept him after what he'd done? Someone who saw him as the man who did great deeds? Or just someone who laughed and danced with him, staying no matter how scary it got? Probably all those things and more. And she's gone, because someone like him doesn't deserve her. Because he was bound to lose her, because death follows him wherever he goes.
And here is is, trapped in another place with people who need him to help save the worlds. The universe. Again, him? It's his inescapable destiny, isn't it, to be tormented with the lives of people hanging in the balance, with all the happy lives he wants them to have and he can never succeed, of course not, because---
A dull sense of pain filters into his consciousness. He's kicked at a wall without knowing it, doing nothing but sending an ache up his leg. He rubs is knee for just one second and sharply turns a corner, heading for a wider and emptier street where he'll have the space to think.
Really, he should just let the world burn away into nothing. Wouldn't that be something? He can just stop himself from lifting a finger and let it all die. The journey on the road to nowhere would finally be over, it would be as empty as this street, he'd be free---
But would he?
His steps falter and he slows, head turning to truly look at the faces around him for the first time since his arrival. Far from the flames of despair in his own mind, he sees more mundane worries. Fears. Hopes. Even happiness, as two people walked by holding hands. Domestics.
The word sends a sharp pain through his hearts and he almost doubles over, but he skids safely to a stop, leaning one shoulder against the nearest shop wall.
No, he isn't jumping at the call to be a hero again. Was he ever a hero? But no matter how badly he wantes to turn his back, he never will. There's not even a question. Because all those little leaves on the tree of life are precious, aren't they? Every one saved means that perhaps another life will be well lived. His old friends from years past will survive, even if he can never face them again.
It hurts this much because something precious had existed, and now that someone is gone---that's what a more romantic soul would say, but he finds himself clinging to the notion as he turned his gaze to the sky.
He can't stop fighting, not now. There's still a price hanging 'round his head that needs to be paid.
