Hello fellow Whovians!

If you have been keeping up with Series 8 of Doctor Who, as I have, you may have a very strong opinion of 12, a Doctor I personally fell in love with about 5 or 10 minutes into “Deep Breath.” He is manic, incredibly smart, prickly, grumpy, but also aloof. He does not seem like he understands the human race as well as his past incarnations, if at all, and he is not exactly a Doctor you want to get stuck in a dark alley with, since he seems completely willing to put lives in the line of harm or even death if it will help him get to the solution faster (see: “Mummy on the Orient Express.”). He does, however, somewhat defend his actions with the quote “Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose.” This statement describes the new Doctor perfectly; he doesn’t fear the bad decision, a decision his past incarnations may have tried to avoid, he jumps in head first and gets it over with as quickly as he can. He does not like the decisions he has to make all the time, but he understands they are necessary to get the job done are for the greater good. Of course, to us, the viewer, this makes Peter Capaldi’s Doctor seem much more cold and heartless, as we are so used to the warmth and energy Matt Smith and even David Tenant brought to our screens. Needless to say, this is probably the most divisive Doctor of the ‘New Who’ generation.

Aside from 12 and his Crombie coat, we were introduced very early on to Missy, a mysterious woman who oversaw ‘The Promised Land’ and always seemed to appear when a character died, starting with the half faced man and most recently with Danny Pink, though the two do not really meet face to face. Episode after episode, we all wondered, “Who is Missy? Is she working for someone, perhaps one of the Doctor’s greater enemies?” Theories ran rampant, I had many of my own theories. I believe I would be preaching to choir if I sat here and said that I believed she was the Rani, a character who’s only real appearances were with Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy’s 6th and 7th Doctors and some Big Finish work. Her arc was really for two episodes which did not even follow each other in the series (mostly because the show was cancelled in 1989), yet she is seen as one of the biggest Doctor Who villains in the shows history. She was of course a renegade time lord, much like the Doctor himself, but, like the Master, she is evil and diabolically power hungry. So, needless to say, with Missy’s mysterious nature and obvious charisma, she has to be the Rani, right? Especially since showrunner Steven Moffatt said that the Master’s story was done, and we wouldn’t see him return this series or perhaps for the rest of his tenure as showrunner.

Steven Moffatt is a really good liar, isn’t he?

It was revealed in the latest episode, “Dark Water,” that Missy is short for “Mistress,” as she simply couldn’t continue calling herself The Master, could she? She does have a point, doesn’t she? And, much like the Masters before her, she is in alliance with the Cybermen.

This is what I love about this show, the fluidity of it. The shock on 12s face is just incredible; he didn’t see this coming either! He thought the Master was gone, sent back into the pocket universe the Time Lords tried (and failed) to escape during 10s last stand in “The End of Time Parts 1 & 2.” But, again, the Master figured out a way to escape, to survive.

I have no idea what is going to happen next, but I can say in no uncertain terms that this season has been a success, and Peter Capaldi’s Doctor is here to stay.

Hopefully contract negotiations have already begun.


The Devil’s Duo (Conclusion)…

This is a FanFiction based on the BBC Show “Doctor Who,” Starring Peter Capaldi and Jenna Coleman.

The Doctor woke with a start, and began to gather his surroundings, starting with what he remembered. Everything going dark as he was laughing at the pitiful creation of the Cyberman and Daleks. His head was pounding, and when he tried to rub his eyes, he was met with resistance and a shooting pain into his wrist. This spurred the Time Lord to look around at his surroundings, and he felt an odd sensation in his stomach, fear, was it? Despair? No, no, it was irritation. Irritation at the Doctor’s own stupidity, as he should have expected some sort of trap being laid out for his capture, especially if this evil duo wanted the Doctor’s brain. Too bad he did not have two of those, like he had two hearts, he could spare them the brain, then defeat himself. Silly Daleks and Cybermen, they really never learn, do they? The Doctor knew there was nothing he could do but wait, so he figured he may as well try to nap, this headache would seriously get in the way of him defeating these two dastardly enemies later on…

Clara and River stood in shock at what they had just witnessed. The Doctor was standing in front of them, and in a split second, or a flash of dark in this case, was gone. The Daleks had now turned their attention to the two women, “Phase one is completed. Apprehend the Doctor’s associates.” There was no movement at first, as Clara and River both expected to hear a Dalek respond with, “I obey.” But that response never came, as the Daleks would repeat this order, though this time, the order ended with the words, “Cybermen will obey. Obey. OBEY.” Needless to say, the Cybermen did not like this, and responded, “The Cybermen are not servant to the Daleks, they will apprehend the Doctor’s associates, or the Cybermen will delete them. What happened next, Clara could not explain. All she heard was River yell, “Clara, down!” and saw a gun blast off a Cyberman’s head, then a Dalek blown to bits. Next, she heard River again, “RUN!”

The Doctor was awakened by the loud crash of the door. Two Daleks and a Cyberman walked through the door. “Oh, hello there, I was wondering when my dinner would arrive.” the Doctor scoffed. The trio ignored the Doctor, and one of the Daleks rang out, “is subject ready for extraction?” The Cyberman went to check the computers surrounding the Doctor, who realized he was on an operating table, and upon looking up, saw a myriad of tools. They were bright, shiny, and there was a drill, scissors, a knife, and other tools. The Doctor rolled his eyes as the Cyberman buzzed, “subject is ready.” “Yes, I am ready! I’m ready for my dinner, untie me so I can eat it please. Oh, and since when are Cybermen servants to the Daleks?” The Cyberman turned to the Doctor, “Cybermen are servant to no being.” the Doctor smirked, “really? Then why did you just take an order from a bloody DALEK!?” The Cyberman turned to the Daleks, lifted its arm, and buzzed, “delete,” and blasted the Daleks, one by one. It then turned to the Doctor, then to the control panel, pressed some buttons, and the tools above the Doctor whirred into life. The Cyberman then walked out.

Clara and River had been running for a long time. Finally, they stopped, and River pulled a gadget out of her coat. “What’s that?” Clara asked as River pressed a few buttons and read the screen. “It tracks the Doctor by his sonic screwdriver, now, this way.” Clara and River continued their sprint until they found the room where the Doctor resided. “Oh, wonderful! Took you two long enough, let me tell you.” “Shut up.” came River’s voice as she pointed her gun at the tools that were now way too close for comfort as far as the Doctor was concerned, and River blew them up, as the debris flew everywhere. The Doctor then barked, “can someone bloody untie me now!” River looked at the Doctor, smirked, and said, “only if you ask nicely, sweetie.” The Doctor glared at River, clearly ready to explode, then, after making a sickened face, said, “PLEASE.” River then blew off the Doctor’s bindings, and he jumped off the table, rubbing where he was bound, looked to Clara and River, and said, “they’re not going to be very happy about this, are they?”


The Doctor, River and Clara walked into the main room again, River with her huge gun at the ready, the Doctor leading the way. “Hello, I’m the Doctor, I believe you were looking for me?” The Doctor walked into the center of the room, trying to keep every Dalek’s eyes on him, while River sneaked to one side of the room, and Clara looked for something large to hide behind. “Well, let’s see it then, show me the Cyberlek! Let’s see this overgrown lawnmower in action!” The Daleks shuffled in annoyance, “the creation is not ready! It is missing the brain of the predator.” “Well, you failed in that endeavor, didn’t you?” the Doctor spat back, “so you must have some back up plan, so let’s see it then!” The Daleks began to swarm around and towards the Doctor, closing in on him, to which the Doctor said, “Oh, this must be your backup plan. Oh, oh dear…” Suddenly, River shot at the Daleks, but one of her shots missed its mark. It instead hit the console in front of the Cyberlek, and the creation spurred into life. “The creation should not be active. Stop. Stop. STOP.” the Daleks buzzed as they began to wheel around frantically. The creation suddenly rang out, “DELETE,” and began shooting every which way, hitting Dalek and Cybermen as they began to fill the room. The creation hit every console, and a red light bathed the room, and a voice rang out, “SELF DESTRUCT ACTIVATED.” The Doctor looked to Clara and River and screamed, “OUT, NOW!”

The Doctor, River and Clara made it to the TARDIS right as flames began to erupt from the entrance to the moon lab. As the TARDIS began to dematerialize, Clara could see an explosion erupt from the moon lab. “You didn’t even need to stop them, Doctor, their creation destroyed them for you!” The Doctor looked to Clara after she said this, and smiled, “Clara, I did need to stop them. Cybermen and Daleks could never coexist. I just needed to remind them of that. Daleks and Cybermen believe themselves to be perfection, and inferior to nobody. They seemed to allow their hatred for me to cloud that, and hatred will always lose, Clara, never forget that.” Clara stared at the Doctor, “but, don’t you hate the Daleks and Cybermen, Doctor? Why else would you stop them?” The Doctor thought about this for a minute, then looked to River, and smiled again, “Clara, I stop them because they are wrong. I do not hate them, but I had an opportunity, long ago, to stop the Daleks before they got started, but I realized I have no say over their lives. I can foil them at any time, however, because they are wrong in their thinking, and will never see the error of their ways. So, I stop them, but I do not hate them. In fact, I pity them Clara. I pity anyone I must stop, because they are more flawed than I.” With that, the Doctor walked below the center console, and left Clara to her thoughts.


At The Strike of Twelve (Part II)…

The figure looked down on the Doctor, the size of the armor being most of the reason why. It was the armor of the Ice Warriors of Mars. The Doctor had last seen one on a soviet submarine, and it had gotten there only because it was frozen in a giant ice block. So, needless to say, a human head, as well as, the Doctor hoped, a human body inside the armor of an ice warrior was very curious indeed. “Oi! What are you doing in there!” demanded the Doctor, the shock of seeing the armor subsiding and changing swiftly into annoyance. The Doctor loved humans, he found them quite amusing, but every so often there would be one, or a group, of humans that made him very cross. The human face looked down, confused, but nonetheless spat back, “I’m preparing for the rebellion tonight, you dirty red coat! What are you, a spy dressed as a clown?” The Doctor took great offense to this, already disliking what he was wearing, and a rebel was insulting it? That’s it, next time, change directly after regenerating, why do I always forget that! “I am not a ‘dirty red coat,’ sir, but you are in grave danger if you stay in that armor, now get out of it and tell me where you found it!” “Yeah, and who are you to tell me?” The Doctor rolled his eyes and shook his head, irritated, and said “I’m the Doctor, this is Ms. Clara Oswald, and if you know what’s good for you-and that is debatable right now-you will listen to me and get out of that armor. I know exactly what is happening tonight, and your attire is highly inappropriate, trust me. Now, I will ask you again, where did you get that armor, and if you would be so kind, please lead us to it.” The man stared blankly, turning from Clara to the Doctor for what seemed like ages until Clara, very annoyed, said “oh yes, Doctor, I’m fine, he did not hurt me, thank you so much for asking, the concern means so much to me.” Clara shakily got to her feet and stalked over to stand next to the Doctor, who mumbled something resembling an apology. The gentleman in the armor continued to stare at these two very oddly dressed red coats. Finally, he pressed a button on the inside, with a loud hiss, the armor opened, revealing a very slight, almost malnourished looking frame, and the owner of the bony body hopped out, stretching his limbs. “I’m George, by the way. George Washington. I’m part of the rebellion against you blasted red coats and you’re oppression!” For such an unintimidating figure, this Washington character had quite an aura of leadership about him. 

“Where did that armor come from?” Clara’s head was swimming. The last time she saw that armor, she was almost blown to bits by the inhabitant of it. And now she was talking to a future United States President, who apparently found it lying in an alley. Clara had to bite her tongue when she heard the name. That was something the Doctor, regardless of face or personality, always managed to do: run into famous people. Famous ghost hunters, painters, you name it, the Doctor had met them. He even claimed responsibility for creating the Yorkshire Pudding. Running along with the Doctor was always a who’s who of history. But ice warrior armor? In the Pre-Revolutionary Colonies? That was too strange, even for the Doctor.

“So, are you going to tell us where you got the bloody armor, or am I going to have to find out for myself? This is the third time I am asking, might I also add.” The Doctor was nothing short of at his wits end with Washington. Why did people always do this with him? His adventures would be so much easier if people would just tell him what he wanted and he could move on. But no, it never ended up that way. It was always something like what Washington had just said, “Yeah, and if I do not tell you, what will you do, clown man?” And, of course, the Doctor would have to say what he just said, “Nothing, actually. But if you do not tell me where you got that armor, which I know more about than your great great great great grandson will ever hope to know, there may not be a rebellion for you to go to have tonight. In fact, there may not be any bloody red coats for you to overthrow!” The Doctor let his words sink in, watching Washington’s face, which remained expressionless, only eliciting personality when the man spoke. Clara wished she had an american dollar bill on her, because Washington’s young face looked like a prefect precursor to his face that would be on American currency hundreds of years later. Finally, Washington spoke, his words measured and inquisitive, “this armor, you know all about, eh? Why don’t you prove it, Doctor.” The Doctor chuckled, which shocked Clara, who thought this Doctor incapable of any type of humor, or happiness altogether. 

“This, is the armor of the Ice Warriors from the planet Mars.” The Doctor said this as simply as if he were talking about the weather. Washington just stared, his eyes eliciting more incredulity than any Clara had ever seen before. The Doctor chuckled again, scaring Clara, who did not know what the chuckle meant. “Do you know why i’m laughing, Clara Oswald?” The Doctor looked to Clara, a mad gleam in his eye. Clara looked back, a little frightened, but mostly confused, “I…I don’t, Doctor, why are you laughing?” “Because, my dear Clara, people never believe me, about anything, because everything I explain always manages to be ahead of their time!” The Doctor laughed and looked back to Washington, who’s eyes had not left the Doctor. “Now, Mr. Washington, run along, back to your rebellion, and let me sort this out. It’s obvious you will be of no help to me or Ms. Oswald, so good night.” Washington looked at the Doctor, taken aback by the rudeness of his statement, and piped up “I never said I wouldn’t tell you where I got it! I just wanted to know your…credentials.” The Doctor looked at Washington as he passed him, eyebrow raised “credentials? here are my credentials” The Doctor held up his psychic paper, which caused Washington’s eyes to widen an drop to his knees in a deep bow. “I..I had no idea, I have never seen you are rebellion meetings! I am so sorry!” “Yes, well, no harm done, I am more of what you could call…a silent supporter. Besides, it’s fun the bet when you know the outcome.” After saying this, the Doctor smiled, which softened his features and made him look almost…charming. Clara felt herself gag for thinking this, after how rude and impatient the Doctor was with her earlier, but that was the Doctor. He always had a mad sort of charm about him, always managing to be endearing to those he felt it necessary. She hated that about him, well, about this Doctor. Chin boy was darn near unhateable. 

“I was hunting in the woods and heard a noise, so I went to figure out what it was, and I found this. It was open, and when I got too close, it sort of pulled me in. I don’t really know, or remember, how it happened.” Washington explained this to the Doctor as he looked inside the armor, exploring all he could without a sonic, which he tried to pull out a one point, then acted as though he was adjusting his psychic paper in his pocket. Finally, the Doctor announced, “the armor is dying. Or it’s been abandoned. One or the other. I needs a specific body type to operate it, and it mistook Mr. Washington for it’s true owner. You’re lucky it did not poison you or try to kill you while you were in it. Ice Warriors are very territorial, and they have a fierce belief in taking care of their own. You could have been seen as a violent enemy. Your weapon, luckily, was probably too primitive for the sensors in the armor to identify you as an enemy.” Washington scoffed, “this is the finest hunting rifle around, maybe it is the armor that is too primitive, Doctor…who, by the way?” “Who is fine if you like it, but it’s really just Doctor, or the Doctor” to this he added in a mumble “nobody ever listens to that either.” and continued, “nope, sorry, Mr. Washington. This armor is light years ahead of Earth technology, but I commend you for your confidence…and delusion. Ah, humans, so much confidence, even in such primitive times, I really do love you all, Clara Oswald!” “Doctor, are you ever going to call me just Clara? I feel like i’m back at school or something.” “Well, if you prefer Clara you should have said so, Clara! We’ve only just met, I was trying to keep with the customs of people. You all like your little Mr.’s and Ms. and Mrs. and Dr!” Clara just rolled her eyes and changed the subject, “So! Any chance there is an ice warrior around here in need of his shell?” The Doctor considered this for a minute, then looked to Clara, then Washington. “Well, he or she would not have much time, Ice Warriors are indigenous to colder, more moist climates, so this weather is not optimal for them. If they are out there, they probably are starting to get sick. We need to go now, Washington, do you remember where you found this?” “Yes, Doctor, I do, but what should we do with this while we search?” “Take it with us, of course!” The Doctor ambled over to the armor, licking his chops with excitement, as he was finally able to show off his Doctor…skills. The doctor reached inside the armor and did was seemed like press a bunch of buttons, and with another hiss, the armor closed and began to follow the Doctor, who motioned to Washington to lead the way, looking very proud of himself. As he reached Clara, she gaped at him, then said “He or she? You mean Ice Warriors have genders?” The Doctor seemed very annoyed by this question, “well of course they do, how do you think they reproduce? Osmosis? Have you ever seen an Ice Warrior mating ritual? It’s really quite fascinating!” Clara rolled her eyes and said “Oh yeah, please, let’s see that next Doctor!” 



Stay Tuned for Part III!

At The Strike of Twelve…

Featuring the new 12th Doctor, played by Peter Capaldi, and Clara, played by Jenna Coleman from the BBC Show “Doctor Who.” The Doctor has just regenerated and the TARDIS is now crashing….

“Fly this thing?!” Clara Oswald repeated in shock to her now markedly different looking counterpart, the Doctor. In a flash, the youthful, vivacious Time Lord she affectionately called “Chin Boy” was now a much older, still wiry bodied man with salt and pepper hair and an apparent knowledge of the color of his kidneys. The Doctor frantically ran around the TARDIS console, pressing an assortment of buttons and pulling levers frantically.

How could this man, who looks so out of place and as though he has never been in the TARDIS before still be the Doctor? Clara watched in shock and confusion as he stumbled around as explosions riddled the TARDIS, pieces of it breaking down around them. “Please,” came a sudden yell, and Clara snapped back to reality, “do you know anything about flying this thing?” “I…well…” Clara trailed off. You know, come to think of it, the Doctor, or rather, her Doctor, as this man was not her Doctor, not one bit, had ever taught her anything about flying the TARDIS. In fact, Clara always got the feeling that this ship, which the Doctor had always said was a living thing, did not exactly fancy her. What was she to do? The TARDIS was crashing, and she, who had spent so much more time in the ship than the man standing before her, who simultaneously felt so new, yet still so familiar, as he was still in her Doctor’s long tweed coat, shirt, vest, trousers that were always oddly a tad too short, and boots, but he could not have felt more un-Doctor-like, if that even made sense in her now jumbled head, which started to throb. Suddenly, Clara heard herself blurt out loudly, almost screaming “try that lever there,” and the Doctor lunged at lever Clara was apparently pointing at, and pulled it. Suddenly, the explosions were drowned out by loud Polka music, which caused the Doctor to stare at Clara in a mix of shock, incredulity, and traces of aggravation. “You do understand that we are crashing, right? And if I don’t figure out how to land we are go-”


Clara and the Doctor were thrown off their feet as the TARDIS fell with a thud. They had been flying for so long, Clara still felt as though they were floating. The Doctor rushed over to Clara, hand outstretched. “Are you alright, Ms. Oswald? That is your name, isn’t it? Clara Oswald?” Clara stared at the Doctor, she seemed to be doing that a lot since they left Trenzalore. Of course, the regeneration happened so quickly, putting new meaning to “it happened in a flash,” in fact. “Yes..yes, I’m Clara Oswald.” “Oh good, quite right, Clara Oswald. And who am I?” Clara blinked, completely caught off guard by the question. He was the Doctor, but he wasn’t all at the same time. The Doctor was stolen from her, taken when the Time Lords gave her Doctor, he of the bow tie and the prominent chin, a whole new life cycle, or at least, that’s what the Doctor said before bringing a bowl of custard to his lips. “You…who are you? You’re the Doctor, aren’t you?” The Doctor took this in, eyeing Clara as if he were analyzing her as she spoke, deciding whether or not this girl he evidently did not seem to remember, aside from her name of course, was trustworthy or not. “Yes…I am the Doctor aren’t I? The last of the Time Lords of Gallifrey, the Predator, the Oncoming Storm…what the bloody hell am I wearing?” The Doctor looked down as himself, apparently realizing for the first time his outfit, which of course, in his eyes, did not belong to him. “Well, I obviously have some ways to go in dressing. Never forget, Clara, you only have one chance to make a good first impression, and I am the Doctor! I should be taken seriously!” With that, the Doctor ripped off the long tweed purple coat, and threw it over the railings. Looking around, the Doctor grabbed Clara’s hand, “you know, we should probably get out of here for the time being, it’s, ah, not very safe.” Clara lurched forward as this man, now in a shirt, vest, trousers and boots, pulled her out of the TARDIS, not really worrying if he was hurting her hand or not, as he had a pretty tight grip.

When the Doctor and Clara were out of the TARDIS, Clara pulled her hand away and glared at the Doctor and slapped his arm. “You could be more gentle, you know!” “I apologize, Ms. Oswald, we just needed to hurry, and you seem to be upset about something, so a little nudge, or a tight grip, seemed necessary.” The Doctor looked around, exploring the area with his sonic screwdriver, the familiar green light glowing brightly as it buzzed, and flicking it so as to read about the scan he had just completed. “Why do you keep calling me ‘Ms. Oswald?'” Clara asked, still rubbing her smarting hand. “Boston, Massachusetts, 1773. December 16th, to be exact. It seems we have arrived the day of the Boston Tea Party. Interesting.” The Doctor had seemingly lost all interest in Clara while he scanned the area with his sonic, figuring out where he had guided the TARDIS, or where the TARDIS had sputtered and flown through time and space.

The Doctor was upset, but he knew he couldn’t show it, or Clara would become even more confused and worried than she already was. Why couldn’t he remember how to fly the TARDIS? Was this a side effect of the new regeneration cycle? This hasn’t happened since the time in San Francisco, but that was because of the incompetence of those silly Medical doctors who would not listen when he explained to them that he was not human, and that he needed a beryllium atomic clock to repair his TARDIS, which was probably regenerating in its own way now. Soon his sonic would-“AUGH!”-the Doctor exclaimed as his vest pocket became scorching hot. The Doctor ripped out his sonic and dropped it on the ground, watching helplessly as it smoldered and melted. This happened the last time he regenerated, too. Great. No sonic. Probably no TARDIS, so they were stuck in 1773, the very early dawn of the American Revolution. Well, no matter, they may as well explore. “Doctor!” The Doctor whirled around at Clara’s loud call. “Yes, Ms. Oswald, may I help you?” Clara stared then repeated, “why do you keep calling me ‘Ms. Oswald’? We’ve been traveling together for quite a while.” The Doctor thought for a moment, “Well, Clara, if you must know, it’s because, well, we’ve never met, you and I. You’ve met me, but it wasn’t me, obviously. It was another me. Do you understand?” “No, Doctor, I don’t. I’ve met you, before you changed,  but you’re not that different, are you?” “Well, Ms. Oswald, I should think i’m quite different, as a matter of fact. What was I wearing before? A bow tie? Tweed? I couldn’t think of a more wretchedly ugly outfit to wear. And these pants are too bloody short! How does the Doctor expect to be taken seriously if his pants are too short and everyone can see my socks?” With that, the Doctor turned and stalked off, Clara jogging to keep up with him.

“Fine, fine, you’re different, happy? You barely have a chin, the other you had a chin for days!” “Yes, I know, I believe it was you who dubbed me ‘Chin Boy’? It’s a wonder I even took you along after such a rude name! What have I ever said about your appearance!” Clara stopped and gaped at the Doctor, who realized his companion had stopped, and turned to face her. “You could give Captain Grumpy a run for his money you know!” The Doctor just stared, “who in the universe is this ‘Captain Grumpy?'” “Captain Grumpy, that’s what you called him! He was you, in the time war.” The Doctor’s face fell, then, through gritted teeth, “we will NOT speak of that.” The Doctor stalked off again, visibly angry and shaken by the very mention of that part of him. “Why do I travel with people? When I get my TARDIS back, I’m taking her home and going off alone.” “No you’re not!” Clara ran up to meet the Doctor, visibly annoyed and hair all over her face, making the Doctor bite his tongue to keep from laughing at her ridiculous look. As she brushed hair out of her face, Clara went on, “you know I can hear you right? If you’re going to talk to yourself, do it in your head.” Now it was Clara’s turn to stalk off, and stalk off she did, the Doctor now walking briskly to keep up with her. “I was talking to myself, it was very rude of you to eavesdrop!” Clara stopped suddenly and whirled around to the Doctor, coming nose to nose with him. “Is this always going to be you? Because I don’t think I want to travel with a grumpy old man, and I know you get lonely.” The Doctor just stared at her, lost for words, until finally, “I’m always an old man! I’m 1600 years old, don’t you know that!” The Doctor glared at her, then turned and walked towards the Boston Harbor, putting his hands in his pockets as he did so.

Upon arriving at the water, the Doctor took a long look at his reflection. “Not too bad for a new life cycle,” he thought to himself. Atop his head was a closely cropped shock of salt and pepper hear that surrounded his head. His face was a bit long and angular. Did he have an egg shaped head? His eyebrows were grey and bushy, his face weathered with the advanced age he evidently was conveying. His body was quite lithe, and he was certainly tall, as if standing next to Clara was not evidence enough of that. All in all, it was a pretty decent regeneration, nothing too odd, aside from his predecessor’s ridiculous choice in clothing. The Doctor was pulled out of his reverie by what sounded like Clara yelling, or was it squealing, in fear. He whirled around and ran towards to site of the sound, stopping suddenly and staring in shock. “No,” he growled, “how can they be here?” The hulking figure standing over Clara stopped at the sound of the Doctor’s voice, and it slowly turned around.

The armor was all too familiar to Clara. She had seen it only once before, on a Soviet submarine. But something was off about it. The face under the helmet was different. It was…human.

Stay Tuned for Part Two!