Who Am I - My Doctor Who Story.
Who Am I
There are various ways to assess the type of person you are. I should know: this is the tenth time I’ve had to figure it out. Appearance can sometimes give a few clues. Let’s have a look, shall we? Striking choice of clothes represents desire to be seen and taken note of. Pinstripe suit and well-proportioned tie may demonstrate certain aspects of the personality restrained within self-imposed boundaries… on the other hand, it might just show good taste.
Footwear: trainers with suit suggests a certain understated disregard for the rules.
Ooh. I like that.
Now to consider my likes and dislikes. Like: the Lion King. Dislike: aliens intent on destroying the human race. Okay, that was easy. Alright then, any regrets? Hm, the usual. Strengths? Weaknesses?
…I don’t know
I’m going to have to look at my latest escapade, I think. What happened? What did I do and who does that make me? Dangerous questions… but I suppose I need to find out. I’d work it out sooner or later, anyway. I’m just that kind of guy.
Ha. Right.
Was cured by good ol’ English tea: obviously still a functioning Time Lord. That’s good. Yelled at a spaceship full of aliens bent on destruction: again, obviously still a functioning Time Lord. Pressed a great big threatening button without entirely knowing what would happen. Oh, well, it turned out alright in the end. I suppose it wouldn’t have been so great if the Earth had exploded or something.
What happened after that? Oh yes. Challenged leader of the Sycorax to a swordfight. A swordfight? I didn’t even know I could fight with a sword. I didn’t even know I could fight! Handy skill to have, though, especially as I seem to know how to fight well enough to defeat the Sycorax leader. Having said that, he did cut off my hand… but it grew back. Hey, I’m lucky! I’d forgotten about that.
Persuaded Sycorax to leave Earth alone. Even tagged on an heroic: “when you talk of the Earth, you make sure you tell them this: it is defended!” Oh yes. I was willing to let them go, too - Harriet Jones, Prime Minister wasn’t though, was she? I was furious; saddened; disappointed in the human race. That must say something about me, too. It’s also pretty telling that I uttered those six little words…
Hehehe.
Alright, let’s try again.
Weaknesses: well, it looks like I’m probably too reckless for my own good… or anybody else’s, actually. Heh.
Strengths: no fear of great big threatening buttons! Also seem to have some kind of moral code. It’s a weird moral code that probably doesn’t make sense to anybody else, but I can live with that. Call it a quirk.
Ah! Aspiration in life: to be ginger!
Okay then, let’s think of some lovely adjectives to describe my good self.
Reckless. Got that one. Amusing (I have a sense of humour, at least); decisive (split-second decision-making); confident (got to be, to stand up in front of a shipful of Sycorax); cheerful/hyper/ mournful, depending on (and appropriate to) circumstances.
Daring? Daring… I like that. What else?
Oh, I hate this post-regeneration disorientation. Hey, that rhymes! Maybe I’m a poet.
…Nah.
I blame it on the human race. I have to regenerate again and what thanks do I get? Not even a cup of tea when I’m poorly. I recover by a mere stroke of luck and then what happens? I bargain with killer aliens who agree to spare their lives but that daft Prime Minister goes and murders them in cold blood. As they were leaving. That’s like shooting someone in the back when he walks away from a fistfight. Don’t know what they’re doing, the pudding-head little… ooh, I’m ever so slightly offensive, too.
It’s still mostly speculation, though, isn’t it? Maybe I’m not daring or reckless at all; maybe I’m calm and thoughtful and level-headed. I doubt it, but hey - who knows?
Of course, there is one thing I do know; something about my identity that delineates what I stand for and defines the core of who I am.
Who am I?
I’m the Doctor.
There are various ways to assess the type of person you are. I should know: this is the tenth time I’ve had to figure it out. Appearance can sometimes give a few clues. Let’s have a look, shall we? Striking choice of clothes represents desire to be seen and taken note of. Pinstripe suit and well-proportioned tie may demonstrate certain aspects of the personality restrained within self-imposed boundaries… on the other hand, it might just show good taste.
Footwear: trainers with suit suggests a certain understated disregard for the rules.
Ooh. I like that.
Now to consider my likes and dislikes. Like: the Lion King. Dislike: aliens intent on destroying the human race. Okay, that was easy. Alright then, any regrets? Hm, the usual. Strengths? Weaknesses?
…I don’t know
I’m going to have to look at my latest escapade, I think. What happened? What did I do and who does that make me? Dangerous questions… but I suppose I need to find out. I’d work it out sooner or later, anyway. I’m just that kind of guy.
Ha. Right.
Was cured by good ol’ English tea: obviously still a functioning Time Lord. That’s good. Yelled at a spaceship full of aliens bent on destruction: again, obviously still a functioning Time Lord. Pressed a great big threatening button without entirely knowing what would happen. Oh, well, it turned out alright in the end. I suppose it wouldn’t have been so great if the Earth had exploded or something.
What happened after that? Oh yes. Challenged leader of the Sycorax to a swordfight. A swordfight? I didn’t even know I could fight with a sword. I didn’t even know I could fight! Handy skill to have, though, especially as I seem to know how to fight well enough to defeat the Sycorax leader. Having said that, he did cut off my hand… but it grew back. Hey, I’m lucky! I’d forgotten about that.
Persuaded Sycorax to leave Earth alone. Even tagged on an heroic: “when you talk of the Earth, you make sure you tell them this: it is defended!” Oh yes. I was willing to let them go, too - Harriet Jones, Prime Minister wasn’t though, was she? I was furious; saddened; disappointed in the human race. That must say something about me, too. It’s also pretty telling that I uttered those six little words…
Hehehe.
Alright, let’s try again.
Weaknesses: well, it looks like I’m probably too reckless for my own good… or anybody else’s, actually. Heh.
Strengths: no fear of great big threatening buttons! Also seem to have some kind of moral code. It’s a weird moral code that probably doesn’t make sense to anybody else, but I can live with that. Call it a quirk.
Ah! Aspiration in life: to be ginger!
Okay then, let’s think of some lovely adjectives to describe my good self.
Reckless. Got that one. Amusing (I have a sense of humour, at least); decisive (split-second decision-making); confident (got to be, to stand up in front of a shipful of Sycorax); cheerful/hyper/ mournful, depending on (and appropriate to) circumstances.
Daring? Daring… I like that. What else?
Oh, I hate this post-regeneration disorientation. Hey, that rhymes! Maybe I’m a poet.
…Nah.
I blame it on the human race. I have to regenerate again and what thanks do I get? Not even a cup of tea when I’m poorly. I recover by a mere stroke of luck and then what happens? I bargain with killer aliens who agree to spare their lives but that daft Prime Minister goes and murders them in cold blood. As they were leaving. That’s like shooting someone in the back when he walks away from a fistfight. Don’t know what they’re doing, the pudding-head little… ooh, I’m ever so slightly offensive, too.
It’s still mostly speculation, though, isn’t it? Maybe I’m not daring or reckless at all; maybe I’m calm and thoughtful and level-headed. I doubt it, but hey - who knows?
Of course, there is one thing I do know; something about my identity that delineates what I stand for and defines the core of who I am.
Who am I?
I’m the Doctor.