Doctor Who: Children of Time [Started/Allways Accepting/PG-13]

[The Tin Trooper]

"..And... that's the last of... it!" The Trooper wheezed,struggling to carry the fifth Dynotropic Engine. All the salvage had taken up a room in his almost infinite TARDIS.

"Huh... the salvage is inside, but there seems to still be a high source of energy..." He looked at the scanner's readings.

"Strange... they're coming from the BT Tower. Heh, the War Machine blueprints might still be there... Can I adjust the settings, make it more specified?" The Trooper twiddled about with a few buttons, pulling the odd lever.

"TARDISes. At least three of them. And where theres TARDISes..."

The Trooper set his TARDIS, still in the form of a post box, to the BT Tower.

[Magnet Soldier]

The prophet heard the smashing of glass on the floor above. "What do you keep up there? A Scyllian starshocker? A protozoiac cruslijer blastinto? Oo, what about a differenit ablousor from the planet shoruoh toce?" He asked, "Well whatever it is, it's escaped." He pointed out before running to the elevator and fleeing. He arrived at the bottom floor and ran to the mans toilets. He saw a man there but he wasn't going to do anything. The prophet ran to his cubicle-shaped TARDIS, ignoring the mans exclaimations that it was out of order. He activated it's engines and it transported to the top floor. He looked at the chair that had smashed the glass and saw that it was definetly a humanoid creature. "Wandering." He muttered.

[◇ Void ◇]

OOC: I think im might regenerate...to re-boot the Rp. Magnet solider will you allow me to regenerate? If you do; please make sure theres a Big explotion after i get shot.

 

"P-Prophet?! How did you get here?" Wandering turned around to see Prophet. He brushes off the Broken glass from his Person and walks over to him swiftly. But yet to Know; Wandering was about to suffer greatly. As wandering was walking over to Prophet; A Guard appeared with a Strange Gun. It was a Strange bulky Lazer gun which had a Strange silencer at the end.

 

"Stop; You two!" The guard Commanded and Raised his Laser gun. Wandering turned around But before he had time to do anything; The guard Pulled the Trigger.

[Snitch]

OOC: Kao, read my PM. If you have and ignored it, I pity you. I refuse to post properly till the thread is fixed, as currently you have screwed it up.

[Magnet Soldier]

OOC: @Kao: What are you asking me for? It's your thread. But you're dying now right, cos I will need to edit this if you aren't.

 

IC:The prophet looked at the gun. He was about to sonic it but there was not enough time to react. The gun was fired and the shot hit Wandering. Kris grabbed the gun and hit the now dazed guard over the head with it, Knocking him unconcious but not killing him. He looked down at the gun. "A schizmec dunder blaster. No bullet, no way to survive." He turned around and ran to the side of the Wandering. "Come on now. I dont want the last conversation we had in these forms to be about the time war and our parents dying. Come on. Don't regenerate. You dont need to, just survive." He said, as emotional as he allowed himself. He wasn't weak but neither was he strong. He was double the Wanderings age so he had hoped that he would be the first to regenerate, so as not to be unfamiliar and scared of the concept.

[The Tin Trooper]

*THUD*

The Trooper's TARDIS came to a halt just outside a small room.

"Hmmm... the window's smashed; looks like an interrogation gone wrong. Ah, well, let's see outside.."

The Trooper primed his blaster and deactivated his disguise. Well, he'd need to be recognized as who he really was if there WERE Time Lords in the building.

Stepping outside, he notices a young man, hunched over n unconscious man. A guard lies comatose in the corner, a bulky dunder blaster just beside him.

"Hey, mate. Are you OK?"

[◇ Void ◇]

OOC: Snitch; i understand. But the Roleplay has gone too far to reverese the events without angering the others. May i sugest we talk about this in pm so we can come to a compermise. Thanks.

 

"G-GAAAAAAA!...." Wandering Coplased onto the Floor; The Engery Blast revealing his Skeletion for a Split-Second before the Flesh returned. Soon; His eyes started to open and He Felt Inmense Pain. His Fate was Sealed. He knew what was Going to Happen next. Regeneration. The Prosess which Time lords use to Cheat death but at the cost of there Entire mind and Body being Reconfigured.

 

He stumbled up the Carpet Floors and Reached to the nearby Handrail; Griping it to help him stand. His Expression was Shock, the Pain of dying circulated around his Body. He soon started to Shead Tears. He knew regeneration was the time lords worst nightmare.

 

"I'I-I Can't...Not..Now!" He cryed out; Soon his hands Started to emmit a Orange Glow. The Prosess was starting to take effect...

[Magnet Soldier]

"No dont." The prophet said, helping his friend up. "Your half my age, you cant regenerate before me. In the human life span I'm old enough to be your dad!" The prophet had a half hearted laugh. He didn't know what to expect. This was going to be a different person, different voice, different face. This wasn't going to be his friend the Wandering any more. This was going to be a new man. He almost shed a tear at the loss of his friend but held back, he was not the emotional type. This was like watching a friend die and then watching a new man try and take his place.

[Snitch]

OOC: Bleh, whatever. My previous post was different then, but I don't want to edit it, so meh.

 

"Hello there chaps!"

 

A new voice had said it, one probably belonging to the hoodie-wearing man that had just rounded the corner, his face exposed and his strange features, including purple eyes and pale lips, glinting in the sunlight from the window. "Any who, don't mind me, just got something to be doing."

 

And with a quick smile and wave, he reached out to grab around Wandering's arm and then leapt, smashing straight through the window and approaching the impending doom of the ground below.

 

"Alright, let's see here..." he said while they were falling, and flicking a button on a paintbrush he was carrying, The Artist and Wandering both disappeared, reappearing on a lower floor in the Torchwood building. However, something still hit the ground; fake copies, made to look like the Artist and Wandering to appear dead. They had fake heat traces, so most scanners would be rendered useless. The heat traces would only last for minutes due to the 'feigned death' that was being attempted.

[Magnet Soldier]

"What the...Oh no you dont!" The prophet shouted as The artist grabbed the Wandering and jumped out of the window. The prophet activating his sonic glove making all traces of the fakes dissappear. Then he ran into his tardis and tracked the real time lords, not with heat sensor but heartbeat. He followed the double heartbeats as they excited the building and appeared right in front of them. He held out the Dunder blaster at the Artist. "A time lord cannot survive this blast. Put him down. He is atimelord called wandering and I am the Prophet. Remember that name and g now with the wandering here. If you dsagree with my terms take me up on it in your next regeneration." And The prophet stood there. Blaster aimed at the artist and glove by his side.

[Snitch]

"I don't have time for this, I really, really don't." The Artist noted, examining a small silver pocketwatch that he retrieved from his left pocket. Apparently satisfied, he gave a small shrug, flipping it once. It landed on it's back, displaying the picture of a room. Pressing the pocketwatch against the Wandering, it would send him to the room imprinted on the watch, somewhere far away from their current location and practically untraceable for security reasons.

 

Turning back to the Prophet, the Artist raised his hands in mock surrender. "Shoot me then." He said, merely shrugging. "I've already regenerated more than once. Also, introductions aren't necessary; I know a lot about you both."

[Magnet Soldier]

"Do you now? I dont really care all I want is to be there when my friend regenerates. Now bring him back or i will make sure that you dont regenerate. I will kill you before you have the chance((This is possible)) And make sure you are nothing but dust in the atmosphere. Now bring him back. I can alter the setting on this blaster with my sonic glove and make it a dissintergration ray, which as you know will kill you before you regenerate." The prophet said as he edited the gun. "It is also now impervious to sonic and laser interference meaning give him back." And the prophet held the gun in both arms now. "If you dont give him back I prophesise your demise."

 

OOC: Hey that last bit ryhmes.

[The Tin Trooper]

"Hold it, both of you!"

The two Time Lords turned to face a cyborg, a monstrosity of a man, his face strewn with metal. His chest contained a furnace, which burned Martian chilerium. In his hand, he grasped a dalekanium-coated blaster.

"I am the Trooper, warrior elite of the Time Lord race, and you will tell me your identities and your reason for your convergence to the Torchwood Tower, as you so call it!"

[◇ Void ◇]

OOC: Here we go! Allonz-y!

 

With Prophet gone to Trace the Artist; Wandering was Alone to regenerate. The Pain started to spread along to his Neck. Along with the Orange glow. The Tears slid down his Cheeks and he Spoke his First Incarnations Last Words:

 

"T-The Humans Will Pay for this..." The Voice having a Painful Growl tone.

 

The glow started to release slight hints of Rainbow engery along with the Intence Orange. His Red eyes turned orange and He Spread out his Arms. The Blasts of Regnerative engery became Violent; Smashing Glass, Ripping apart walls and Severing Pipes. His Hands and Face soon became Inpossable to see. Behind his Cells remoddled his Entire Body.

[Magnet Soldier]

OOC: Actually this is BT tower. Torchwood tower has not been built yet.

 

IC: The prophet turned his head slightly as to get a better look at the trooper. "Shut up robot. That blaster is nothing. I know of a speicies even more powerful and feared than the daleks and I am holding there blaster right now. The Krashnoks! Now move away while we settle this matter or you will be disintergrated. And to answer your question I am the prophet, son of the Oracle and the wiseman. Both of my parents were of the highest esteem and I have heard of you. You worked under them as they were your generals and you were just a soldier to them." The prophet said with dignity in his voice about revealing his past. He also held the blaster now so he could shoot either one of them.

[The Tin Trooper]

The Trooper laughed. Nay, he cackled with the insanity that anyine would get.

"Oh, I know you, Prophet. And your parents. Honourable, noble people. And if they could see what you were doing, you'd break their double hearts. The blaster may be dalekanium coated, but it contains a power more primal and more destructive than the Krashnoks. Now, you WILL stop the insolence and refrain from calling me a robot. Go ahead. Shoot me. I dare you!"

The Trooper slammed his titanium fist against his chest, making a hollow, metal sound.

"Oh, and I was not just a soldier. Oh, my history goes on for milennia. It was I who led the great Bowships into war with the Great Vampires. I decapitated the head of the Fendahl Core. I single-handedly quelled a Cyberman invasion of Gallifrey, and all without dying once. I am the Trooper, killer of the Dalek Emperor, warrior of Gallifrey!"

[Snitch]

"Tut tut, always keep your attention on your captives." The Artist said, smiling as Prophet's attention was ever so slightly lost. Waving, a golden pocketwatch identical to the first excluding the colour, melted into his palm, and his form faded until it was nothing.

 

Reappearing next to the Wandering in his regeneration, he spat across the room, his eyes rolling. "I hate doing that," he said, the disgust clearly visible in his voice.

[Magnet Soldier]

"You underestimate this weapon. The Krashnoks are almost the most feared creatures in the galaxy. They are about advanced as us timelords. They are the third race that can time travel. They arte feared by the mighty darksmiths of Karalgula, that have scared the time lords so much that only two have ever been too the planet. Me and the infamous doctor." The prophet smiled. The Trooper would stand no chance and the trooper knew it. Almost every timelord had heard legends about the krashnoks, a race of creature's that controlled half the universe in this time period. True they would be destroyed in three years time but their technology would still live on. He groaned as the Artist dissappeared, even though theprophet had only lost attention for a matter of seconds.

[The Tin Trooper]

"Well, it's a good thing I'm a hologram. The real Tin Trooper hitched a ride on the other Time Lord's back. This holodisc was placed after his departure. Oh, and the Krashnok's drawback was their lack of logic. Judging by your methods, I could guess the same thing for you." The image of the Time Lord faded out.

 

In the room, the Trooper glared at the Artist.

"I thought I felt a strong presence. What is your name, Time Lord?"

[The Tin Trooper]

OOC: Did you even look at the PM, Magnet?

[Magnet Soldier]

OOC: Yes.

[Snitch]

"I don't have time for this' date=' I really, really don't." The Artist noted, examining a small silver pocketwatch that he retrieved from his left pocket. Apparently satisfied, he gave a small shrug, flipping it once. It landed on it's back, displaying the picture of a room. Pressing the pocketwatch against the Wandering, it would send him to the room imprinted on the watch, somewhere far away from their current location and practically untraceable for security reasons.

 

Turning back to the Prophet, the Artist raised his hands in mock surrender. "Shoot me then." He said, merely shrugging. "I've already regenerated more than once. Also, introductions aren't necessary; I know a lot about you both."

[/quote']

 

"Tut tut' date=' always keep your attention on your captives." The Artist said, smiling as Prophet's attention was ever so slightly lost. Waving, a golden pocketwatch identical to the first excluding the colour, melted into his palm, and his form faded until it was nothing.

 

Reappearing next to the Wandering in his regeneration, he spat across the room, his eyes rolling. "I hate doing that," he said, the disgust clearly visible in his voice.

[/quote']

 

"Well' date=' it's a good thing I'm a hologram. The real Tin Trooper hitched a ride on the other Time Lord's back. This holodisc was placed after his departure. Oh, and the Krashnok's drawback was their lack of logic. Judging by your methods, I could guess the same thing for you." The image of the Time Lord faded out.

 

In the room, the Trooper glared at the Artist.

"I thought I felt a strong presence. What is your name, Time Lord?"

[/quote']

 

OOC: We're not even there. >_>

[The Tin Trooper]

OOC: I'm talking about where you are.

[◇ Void ◇]

OOC: You shoud have just pm'ed. OOC Only posts are not Alloud. If i see anymore there will be Temp boots. But know; lets look at the Second incarnation of the Wandering!

 

The Orange Glow from Wanderings Regeneration Faded. His new Form was Slighty older looking. His Hair was now a Scruffy Brown and was Slighty shorter then his Previous Incarnation. His Skin was Much Pailer; A Light Grey. The Eyes was strangly a Bright Green; Not to His Liking as he did not want green eyes. Also he Had two Paralell Black marks on each of his cheeks; One aboth the other.

 

".....A...Am...W-Who am i..." The new voice of wandering spoke. But as he started to get use to his new body; The area started to fill with natual gas from one of the severed pipes.

 

OOC: Heres the new apperence:

[spoiler=Wanderings second Incarnation]

 

[Snitch]

OOC: I'm talking about where you are.

 

OOC: Which you can't get to?

 

And natural gas? I thought this was my secret area. D:

 

IC:

 

The fake natural gas pipe was working a charm, The Artist concluded with a nod, grabbing The Wandering by his new hood and hoisting him to the ground. He raised his hand at the wall, pressing it against a secret panel, literally invisible. The wall slid back, and a complex system of locks opened, and The Artist entered, dragging The Wandering with him.

 

Computers hummed all around the giant room; it was easily the size of The Doctor's if not larger. The machinery scaled the walls, making recordings of time, along with camera showings everywhere, as if things were being expected or tracked. With a dramatic wave of his hands and the door shutting behind the duo, The Artist exclaimed, "Welcome, o Wandering one, to the headquarters of Pure White."