towerofanimus | //01//

Entry tags:

//01//

Characters: Tim Drake and YOU (yes, you)
Setting: Library
Format: Brackets but feel free to use prose.
Summary: Newbie having something like a quiet mental breakdown in the library. Approach him during any part of his information gathering.
Warnings: None.

[As soon as Tim had arrived in the tower, he was determined to find out why he was brought here. Sorry, but he's not buying anything about his world being destroyed. He's helped save it far too many times to accept that.

So, the only logical place to go (besides interrogating various workers and other kidnapped people) is the library. Unfortunately, there was no section on the history of this place or even other worlds, so now Tim is striding quickly through the aisles of bookshelves, pulling books down at random to hold in his arms. That's not all of them, though -- just outside one of the aisles is a group of stacked books, unnecessarily high, where Tim is dumping them all.

Eventually, he sits cross-legged in the middle of all the stacks and starts to flip through the books at speed, skimming them for information. He doesn't particularly care if he looks odd; it seems like a good portion of the people here are just as curious about this place as he is.

As he reaches the end of a rather thick encyclopedia, he discards it a bit roughly and groans to himself.]

Oh, come on, there has to be something useful hidden in one of these books.

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[Well, this person that suddenly appeared certainly is...interesting. Tim's not really sure what part of his speech to address first.]

You've read every book in here five times? How long have you been here? [He trusts that it can be done, but if this man has had time to do it, then...that doesn't bode well for his plans of escape.]

My name is Tim Drake, by the way. And you have no right to call my hair floppy with yours looking like that. [He's teasing, mostly, which is shown by the small smile he says this with.]

My hair is a bit daft this time around, I suppose. Very poofy and floofy and floppy. It flops in my eyes sometimes. Amy's threatened to cut it, but I don't think I'll let that happen. Very fierce on her own, she is. Add scissors and--well, there might not be an and. Gingers. Scissors. Women. Ginger women with scissors.

Nooooot a good idea, or an okay one, just a bad one.

[He smiles brightly] Yes. I read them twice on my first day and waited a day before reading them again. Gave myself some absorbtion time to think it over, look for clues, ciphers, codes, anything. [He sighs] Buuuut unless there's a secret code type thing in the oatmeal stains on page 45 of The Great Gatsby, there is nothing to find. I've been here for almost two months, a short time and a long time, all at the same time.

[He claps his hand and gives Tim THE BIGGEST GRIN] I am The Doctor. It is very nice to meet you, Tim Drake. I assume Tim is short for Timothy, and Drake is short for Drake. Excellent name. I knew a Tim once. Quite nosy. Literally and figuratively. But you don't seem to be nosy either way. No, you've just got floppy hair and an average nose.

Edited 2011-08-21 01:58 (UTC)

Do you always talk this much? [He realizes belatedly that this comes out pretty rude and grimaces slightly.] Sorry, it's just overwhelming. It's nice to meet you, Doctor.

Anyway, how did you read all these in that time? I know it's possible, but you have to have some kind of powers.

Not to worry. I am a bit of an overwhelming person.

[He frowns] Oooooooooh, I forget that isn't normal sometimes. Shame, really. It must be so annoying to--ah well, nevermind.

I can do that because I'm The Doctor, a Time Lord, the Time Lord if we're using our articles properly.

[Tim stares at him in shock.]

Are you trying to tell me you're the Doctor? Like from Doctor Who? Because your outfit's completely off, even taking into consideration the ten incarnations.

[Yeah, he totally thinks he's just cosplaying the Doctor. Weird joke considering they're trapped in the tower, but he supposes anyone could go insane here.]

Oh, come on! I go and get a new face and a bowtie and it's like I'm a different person. Honestly. Just because I look good for my age and have floppy hair. I think my new look is cool. The coolest. Because I'm The Doctor. King of Cool. Aww yeah, now that's a title!

--wait, what? How do you know what I looked like before? Or that there were ten before me? We've never met. [SCANS HIM WITH THE SONIC SCREWDRIVER] We have definitely never met.

Who are you, Timothy Drake? And how do you know me? There's no way I've forgotten you. None at all. I always remember and I never forget. Ever. Each person I've met is precious to me, and I do not forget them. I just don't.

[He's circling Tim now, and thinking, thinking very hard. He wouldn't have forgotten. That wasn't possible.]

[When the Doctor points the sonic screwdriver at him, Tim recognizes it immediately. He narrows his eyes as he studies it. It's not the same design as any of the ten doctors' screwdrivers.] That looks real. How much money did you spend just to pretend to be the Doctor?

[This is all very amusing because Tim really is a big fan of Doctor Who (even though he hasn't had the time to catch up on the new seasons). However, now he's beginning to think this person is just a bit too involved to be healthy. He raises an eyebrow as he watches the man circle him.] Are you saying you're the eleventh incarnation of the Doctor?

[Actually...he does look kind of familiar. And he does recall hearing that there's a new Doctor now. Tim stares at him, thinking hard and trying to sift through his memories to remember as much as he can of what he saw on the internet.]

Oi. [he pokes Tim's nose] I'm not pretending. I am the Doctor. Always have been, always will be.

And technically yes, I am number eleven. You ought to answer some of my questions too, though, Timmy, Tim, Timothy. It's only fair and just and all that.

[Tim considers the man's words, scrutinizing him as he thinks. He had already been warned that this place took people from different worlds and times, so theoretically, it's not impossible for this to be the Doctor. It'll just be hard to prove.]

I'll answer all of your questions. But first, and this is going to sound pretty weird-- [he hesitates briefly] --I'll need to feel your heartbeat.

[He reaches out a hand and lets it hover midway between him and the Doctor, waiting for permission.]

You won't be able to feel the second heartbeat. They beat in sync.

Now. I'm going to show you something, but you must promise to actually answer my questions. Don't worry. It won't hurt. It'll just feel very odd and timey wimey and spacey wacey.

Geronimo, eh? [MOVING SLOWLY and forehead touch!!!

enjoy those time lord memories. They'll probably give you a headache later]

[Headaches? Tim's had worse. All the memories are a bit disorienting, but Tim's had training to deal with that.]

So you really are the Doctor. [He looks up at him, amazed. And then it actually sinks in and a huge smile appears on his face.]

You really are the Doctor!

That I am! Glad I've finally convinced you.

Now, who are you? I haven't...[FIDGETS UNCOMFORTABLY] ...er. Forgotten you, have I? [Please say no. Please say no.]

What? No. I'm just...a fan.

I'm sorry to tell you this, but in my world, you kind of have a TV show about you. A really popular, long-running TV show.

A fan?

[...I have fans]

[I HAVE FANS!!!!!]

[...and a tv show]

[AND A TV SHOW

OH MAN DOING THE SPINNY THING]

Oh man! That is cool!

I'm very sorry for being suspicious of you, Tim.

[Tim has to laugh at all this because oh my god the Doctor.]

It's really great to meet you. Like, really great.

Really?--I mean. 'Course it is. It's about time someone thought so. I'm very underappreciated, you know.

It is very very very very great to meet you as well, Timothy Drake the Fan. Haha!

[IS SO PLEASED WITH HIMSELF]

[Tim beams. This is quite possibly the happiest he's been in a long time.]

So, do you have any idea what we're doing here?

Oh, I have plenty of ideas.

Clearly our captors are malicious, and our worlds have not been destroyed. That's just rubbish. Absolute and total rubbish. But anyway, our captors. They had--have a plan, but they're clearly unprepared. There was a power outage a few days ago, monsters arrived, voices haunted, called, tricked trapped children and adults alike. The voice drew you in, straight to your death. It could be the voice of someone living, someone dead, someone you love, someone you hate, but it will do what it can to entice you. Don't listen, under any circumstances, or you will die.

Now, what kind of benevolent rescuer lets something like that happen?

They don't.

But, what kind of captor lets their captives die?

They don't.

Something is wrong and does not add up.

I met a young boy not too long ago, who is working with the captors. He's unaware of the dangers, and claims the group wishes to protect us. My conversation with him was brief, before his communication signal was cut by someone, or something, else.

I hate to say this, but I suspect we're a controlled experiment. Lab rats in a deadly maze.

'Course I won't allow things to stay this way. They sealed their fate the moment they took a child from his family.

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[3/3] DONE

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1/....I'll tell you when I know

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DONE

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