[The Doctor is sitting against the front door. Staring at Rose's portrait above the sofa. Her face haunted his dreams when The Doctor had been forced to be human biology and mentally. He doesn't understand how he could forget. To move on from her. John Smith couldn't remember who Rose was but she still followed him in his dreams. As did Jack. Did he forget Jack too? Would Rose even want that other face of his? She had such a hard time adjusting to this face. A younger face that his former incarnation thought Rose would appreciate more than that daft alien with big ears.
That and Ten deeply loves this face of his. Why would he ever want to change? The Doctor pulls the sides of his face. He's tired of changing his face.]
[Changing faces was an exhausting prospect to consider for those who would retain those memories on some level. Somewhere deep inside Oscar felt the frustrations of needing to bond each time the Wizard was forced to body hop-- and he knew that there had been plenty of times when the Wizard had not even bothered to coordinate with the person possessing the body and just overwrote their individuality.
It was daunting to consider, and Oscar would be the first to admit that he had no idea how he was going to help the Doctor.
Leaning heavily on his crutches, he approached the Doctor-- a small young man with a scarf wrapped up over the lower half of his face to shield from the dust and sand, hair disheveled from the heat and the wind, one leg missing since the last time they had met...]
[He's not a mess. He's fine. He's just fine! The Doctor shakes his head and then pouts. Maybe he should have bothered Ozpin. Ten isn't sure. He's not thinking straight. The Doctor still gives Oscar a weak smile and a bit of a hug. That is before guiding them both inside.]
Oscar couldn't help but stifle a chuckle at the childish pout and awkwardly returned the hug-- as best as he could with crutches and still recovering from recent traumatic injuries. He had not ventured away from his homestead or the people he was living with very often since the end of March due to the injuries.
Having a reason to see a friend in need was all he needed.]
It'll all be okay, Doctor. It's not ideal, but a part of you still lives on.
[Something inside Ten's snaps at Oscar's sentimental statement. The Doctor knew Oscar meant well with that. But - he's done that so many times. And doesn't want it to keep being like that. His Fourth self was the one with the sweet tooth. The Third Face got introduced to tea. There are things that carry on to the next face. Because changing his face is like dying for that face. Ten snaps at Oscar]
Is that all I am to become. A bit of what I was?
[There's a clear nope face. Even if has seen his older face. Clear nope. Goddamn! The Doctor pushes some china to the floor. Then falls silent not looking at Oscar.]
I will not end up just being a bag of jelly babies. I wasn't supposed to change this face. I was supposed to use up my remaining regenerations like this!
[Ten flops onto the sofa. His legs spread out. His head hanging between them with his hands hiding his face. The portrait of that blonde is always looking from above the sofa.]
He understood exactly what the Doctor was saying-- he's had to come to terms with both the immorality and the fragility of his identity very quickly-- and Ironwood's words still haunted him. 'One day, you won't be able to tell the difference...'
It wasn't a thought he liked.
"Ozpin will be the Headmaster. Others have been Kings and Warriors, Revolutionaries. Still others were Drunks, Gamblers...
"I'm going to be The Farmhand. This-- this is what we've got to deal with."
He let out a sigh and flopped down as well, burying his face in his hands.
"I've already become Someone Else. There's no reversing what's happened already back home...
"All I can do is define how I'll be remembered-- and I want that to be the one who helps their friends regardless of the cost. You... You can do the same."
There's a loud exhale. "That's why I called you. You know. You understand. I trust you."
Then begins to rant again, "Why do we have to deal with it? We can be clever. We could figure something out." There's a silence. The Doctor is thinking about his hand in the Jar, bubbling his lab room.
"Why did I take her eyes? And roll my regeneration in a form she'd like more? What was the point?! I'm not ready to say -", a short pause and The Doctor looks over at Oscar, "I always have. All of my lives. All of me but my first regeneration has died for them."
Whether them were his companions or the universe as a whole.
...This was what his fate looked like. Oscar suspected this in his bones, but seeing the Doctor in this state over realizing he had failed to attain his goal was a sobering reminder of the truth.
"We've gotta deal with immortality, but also our own mortality at the same time."
It was a raw deal-- and once more Oscar felt the weight of being just another of the Wizard's lives weighing on his shoulders.
"We walk both paths. Most people only walk one or the other. That... puts us in a strange place. Maybe that's why the many universes decided that there should be more people with that type of problem."
Because, in a strange way, Korra dealt with it too. All three of them dealt with different forms of it, but the result was the same:
They had eternity-- but they also understood how precious a single lifetime could be.
The Doctor continues to be in a tight body ball on the sofa. He is listening. And what Oscar is saying does make sense.
There's a pause after Oscar speaks. Ten is, unfortunately understanding more and more all those graves of his - from alternate dimensions. The times that this face didn't have a human at this side. Allowing himself to go too far. Being the hero and literally going up in a blaze of glory somehow. And it wasn't just because Rose wasn't there. It wasn't just the pain from that. The pain he felt when she imploded here. And how someone acted the months after that. Nearly, going up in a blaze of glory. Now, he's wondering, if it's also because he didn't want to change, on top of that. Would he really choose a permanent death over changing his face?
At least, Ten had his fit. His breakdown. He loves his face. This face. There's a loud exhale. In a worn voice, "I'm tired of changing. I thought I could use my last two regenerations like this." Ten thumbs through Oscar's hair. It is a great comfort to have company that can get it.
Somehow, Oscar understood. There was a part of him that was older than his civilization that longed for nothing more than rest and release. He had witnessed that first hand with Salem... and yet...
He had the opportunity to be the person he was meant to be, and he didn't want to lose it.
Hesitating, Oscar gingerly accepted The Doctor's hand into his own.
The Doctor shares with Oscar one of his memories. Of his former incarnation. His Ninth self snogging Rose. Talking about how he needs to take the time vortex out of her. Oscar will hear Ten telepathically.
He died for her. And he became someone that he thought Rose would prefer
And there was a bit of the cheeky Jack Harkness influence in all of that. Given Nine isn't one to be cheeky.
Ten stops the shared memory. The Doctor looks at Oscar. Non-verbally asking 'do you understand?' In those brown eyes is pain. The pain of someone who doesn't want to say goodbye to the mortal.
The Doctor already spoke with Gwen Poole. Soon after Rose imploded. Asking Gween Poole if his former face did the right thing. Falling in love with a moral. Gwen made a good point. You don't choose who we fall in love with.
He did understand-- in the strange way that a young person understood the complexities of the world and civilization after they had been given access to the fountain of all of the information known to humanity. Oscar didn't want to know, but he recognized that ache.
It was the same as what he had envisioned and felt within himself when he observed Ozma's repeated attempts to regain the woman he had lost-- and, failing that, tried to save both her and the very world from herself.
"Doctor," Oscar said quietly, reaching for the man's hands.
"You love her, and you did what anyone would do if they had the chance. But... you can't just live for one person. Not with the kind of life people like you and I lead."
He sighed, and squeezed those hands.
"You've got to live for yourself too. Whatever that looks like. And, if it's Jelly Babies and tea? If that's a chance you find with a different face and a different way of seeing the world? That's... not a bad thing.
"It's... scary. Everything that's different can be scary. But that doesn't make it bad."
The Doctor knows in his hearts; that some of his older faces wouldn't have done that. Sacrificing themself for a person. He knows Oscar is right. And tries to block the memory of having seen Rose implode in this place and the aftermath of that. Of him being cold and cruel. If anything Oscar might get a sensation that those words are correct.
There's an exhale, "That's... one of the main reasons I'm attached to Jack. Part human. Part immortal."
Then a sudden feeling of fear; "That was an old face of mine. With jellybabies." Though he still enjoys those.
"And I'm quite tired of changing my face." Something about his voice sounds like a cat being rubbed the wrong way. "I love who I am right now. Thank you very much."
Oscar said quietly, matching the tired expression with a soft, bitter smile that ill befitted a young teen. He knew that feeling too well; it was the crux of his own dilemmas with their version of immortality.
"Loving yourself is one of the most important things anyone can do for themselves. But... no matter how much we love ourselves or want life to be different, it doesn't change the reality of our nature."
It was a fact Oscar was struggling with himself, and finding his own resolution for.
"So you've gotta ask yourself... what sort of things do you want to be remembered for? What can you do so your friends are proud when they talk about you?"
Ten rubs his chin for a moment, "Being The Doctor." Ten remarks. Almost like that is more than just a name for himself. That this may be some kind of psychology or personal moral code.
"Exactly." The Doctor grins broadly like a Cheshire Cat. Ten will give Oscar a moment to try and figure this out on his own. Someone believes Oscar is clever.
The Doctor gives a slow and relict head nod. Quite a few of his faces know that. Still, that doesn't change the fact of him wanting to have done better, after the fact. And definitely didn't excuse War Doctor's final decision.
"I have my name for a reason," The Doctor remarks, "Because I want to help out and make things better. Even if it's just a tiny bit better than before I was thar."
That's how he wants to be remembered. Not as the Destroyer of Worlds, like some in his universe would whisper about him.
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That and Ten deeply loves this face of his. Why would he ever want to change? The Doctor pulls the sides of his face. He's tired of changing his face.]
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It was daunting to consider, and Oscar would be the first to admit that he had no idea how he was going to help the Doctor.
Leaning heavily on his crutches, he approached the Doctor-- a small young man with a scarf wrapped up over the lower half of his face to shield from the dust and sand, hair disheveled from the heat and the wind, one leg missing since the last time they had met...]
Doctor, you look like you're a mess.
[He said, gently.]
Let's get you inside and get you that tea.
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Oscar couldn't help but stifle a chuckle at the childish pout and awkwardly returned the hug-- as best as he could with crutches and still recovering from recent traumatic injuries. He had not ventured away from his homestead or the people he was living with very often since the end of March due to the injuries.
Having a reason to see a friend in need was all he needed.]
It'll all be okay, Doctor. It's not ideal, but a part of you still lives on.
[He followed the Doctor inside.]
Do you want to tell me about it?
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You still haven't told me what happened.
[Something inside Ten's snaps at Oscar's sentimental statement. The Doctor knew Oscar meant well with that. But - he's done that so many times. And doesn't want it to keep being like that. His Fourth self was the one with the sweet tooth. The Third Face got introduced to tea. There are things that carry on to the next face. Because changing his face is like dying for that face. Ten snaps at Oscar]
Is that all I am to become. A bit of what I was?
[There's a clear nope face. Even if has seen his older face. Clear nope. Goddamn! The Doctor pushes some china to the floor. Then falls silent not looking at Oscar.]
I will not end up just being a bag of jelly babies. I wasn't supposed to change this face. I was supposed to use up my remaining regenerations like this!
[Ten flops onto the sofa. His legs spread out. His head hanging between them with his hands hiding his face. The portrait of that blonde is always looking from above the sofa.]
[Action]
He understood exactly what the Doctor was saying-- he's had to come to terms with both the immorality and the fragility of his identity very quickly-- and Ironwood's words still haunted him. 'One day, you won't be able to tell the difference...'
It wasn't a thought he liked.
"Ozpin will be the Headmaster. Others have been Kings and Warriors, Revolutionaries. Still others were Drunks, Gamblers...
"I'm going to be The Farmhand. This-- this is what we've got to deal with."
He let out a sigh and flopped down as well, burying his face in his hands.
"I've already become Someone Else. There's no reversing what's happened already back home...
"All I can do is define how I'll be remembered-- and I want that to be the one who helps their friends regardless of the cost. You... You can do the same."
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Then begins to rant again, "Why do we have to deal with it? We can be clever. We could figure something out." There's a silence. The Doctor is thinking about his hand in the Jar, bubbling his lab room.
"Why did I take her eyes? And roll my regeneration in a form she'd like more? What was the point?! I'm not ready to say -", a short pause and The Doctor looks over at Oscar, "I always have. All of my lives. All of me but my first regeneration has died for them."
Whether them were his companions or the universe as a whole.
[Action]
"We've gotta deal with immortality, but also our own mortality at the same time."
It was a raw deal-- and once more Oscar felt the weight of being just another of the Wizard's lives weighing on his shoulders.
"We walk both paths. Most people only walk one or the other. That... puts us in a strange place. Maybe that's why the many universes decided that there should be more people with that type of problem."
Because, in a strange way, Korra dealt with it too. All three of them dealt with different forms of it, but the result was the same:
They had eternity-- but they also understood how precious a single lifetime could be.
Re: [Action] CW: mentions of semi suicidal
There's a pause after Oscar speaks. Ten is, unfortunately understanding more and more all those graves of his - from alternate dimensions. The times that this face didn't have a human at this side. Allowing himself to go too far. Being the hero and literally going up in a blaze of glory somehow. And it wasn't just because Rose wasn't there. It wasn't just the pain from that. The pain he felt when she imploded here. And how someone acted the months after that. Nearly, going up in a blaze of glory. Now, he's wondering, if it's also because he didn't want to change, on top of that. Would he really choose a permanent death over changing his face?
Ten only manages to choke out this
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Oscar shifted along the sofa, careful of his still bandaged stump of a leg, and leaned over to rest his head on the Doctor's shoulder.
"I know."
He said quietly.
"I don't either. That's part of what makes us who we are."
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"I know you're tired. It gets tiring. But, even people like us can't stop the clock."
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The Doctor sighs, he's counterintuitive with wanting to rest and to keep going. This just boils down to his own mental health on those days.
"Can I show you something?" Ten offers his hand to Oscar.
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He had the opportunity to be the person he was meant to be, and he didn't want to lose it.
Hesitating, Oscar gingerly accepted The Doctor's hand into his own.
"What are you going to do?"
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He died for her. And he became someone that he thought Rose would prefer
And there was a bit of the cheeky Jack Harkness influence in all of that. Given Nine isn't one to be cheeky.
Ten stops the shared memory. The Doctor looks at Oscar. Non-verbally asking 'do you understand?' In those brown eyes is pain. The pain of someone who doesn't want to say goodbye to the mortal.
The Doctor already spoke with Gwen Poole. Soon after Rose imploded. Asking Gween Poole if his former face did the right thing. Falling in love with a moral. Gwen made a good point. You don't choose who we fall in love with.
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It was the same as what he had envisioned and felt within himself when he observed Ozma's repeated attempts to regain the woman he had lost-- and, failing that, tried to save both her and the very world from herself.
"Doctor," Oscar said quietly, reaching for the man's hands.
"You love her, and you did what anyone would do if they had the chance. But... you can't just live for one person. Not with the kind of life people like you and I lead."
He sighed, and squeezed those hands.
"You've got to live for yourself too. Whatever that looks like. And, if it's Jelly Babies and tea? If that's a chance you find with a different face and a different way of seeing the world? That's... not a bad thing.
"It's... scary. Everything that's different can be scary. But that doesn't make it bad."
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He knows Oscar is right. And tries to block the memory of having seen Rose implode in this place and the aftermath of that. Of him being cold and cruel. If anything Oscar might get a sensation that those words are correct.
There's an exhale, "That's... one of the main reasons I'm attached to Jack. Part human. Part immortal."
Then a sudden feeling of fear; "That was an old face of mine. With jellybabies." Though he still enjoys those.
"And I'm quite tired of changing my face." Something about his voice sounds like a cat being rubbed the wrong way. "I love who I am right now. Thank you very much."
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Oscar said quietly, matching the tired expression with a soft, bitter smile that ill befitted a young teen. He knew that feeling too well; it was the crux of his own dilemmas with their version of immortality.
"Loving yourself is one of the most important things anyone can do for themselves. But... no matter how much we love ourselves or want life to be different, it doesn't change the reality of our nature."
It was a fact Oscar was struggling with himself, and finding his own resolution for.
"So you've gotta ask yourself... what sort of things do you want to be remembered for? What can you do so your friends are proud when they talk about you?"
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"But.... that's already who you are." He replied quietly. "What do you mean?"
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"You... want to be the best version of You, don't you?"
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Oscar uttered quietly, thinking about how many of his previous... faces were merely men-- and not even very good ones.
"And, maybe in those situations, that was the best any of your faces could have done at the time. Life... isn't as simple as it looks."
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"I have my name for a reason," The Doctor remarks, "Because I want to help out and make things better. Even if it's just a tiny bit better than before I was thar."
That's how he wants to be remembered. Not as the Destroyer of Worlds, like some in his universe would whisper about him.
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