OOC: In which Alana rambles about The Waters of Mars so she can figure out how she wants to play the Time Lord Victorious.
Spoilers for The Waters of Mars, of course, and I’m making that clear since I know of at least one person who hasn’t seen it. And I don’t want to spoil it so yay. Spoiler warning.
It’s clear from the first scene between the Doctor and the crew of Bowie Base One that this is far from the cheery, happy-go-lucky Doctor in series two. He’s more reserved, less willing to get close to them. That is, even before he discovers who they are and when he’s landed, he’s not risking the chance of getting close to them and losing them. He has the sort of wall built up that he did when we first met Nine - he keeps people more at a distance, because there’s just been so much loss and he doesn’t want to drown in it anymore. (The fact that Ten regenerated right after Nine lost this wall, and thus was more sensitive to it than Nine. Loss hit him that much harder.)
But then, after finding out who these people are and realizing what’s about to happen, he pushes them away. Literally, backs away from them. Laments Mia’s youth - only twenty-seven years old and going to die that very day. He shakes their hands and says he HAS to leave. Right now. Before he can get attached and feel the pain of their deaths that more keenly, he tries to run. Running never failed him before, it’s almost a safety measure. However, they fail to make contact with the Bio-Dome. Adelaide locks up the Doctor’s space suit so he can’t leave.
The Doctor has to work with these people, trying to both save their lives and preserve a fixed point in time and space. Slowly he lets them closer to him, and then - he watches them try to fight for their survival, fight to return to Earth, knowing it’s all in vain. He walks slowly from Bowie Base One, listening as each person gets infected. He couldn’t save them. If he did, all of time and space would unravel. That moment is tied to the very future of the human race so tightly that it must never, ever be changed.
The Doctor must listen as, with every step, their hope for survival grows fainter and fainter. He had to tell Adelaide that she was going to die, tried to explain feebly that this was something he couldn’t change, no matter how much he wanted to save them. He listens as Steffi is infected, he listens as she plays the recording of her daughters and as she sobs. He is listening to her die. He hears Roman tell Adelaide, Mia and Yuri to go on without him. A single drop. That was it, a single drop and his life was over. And then the Doctor listens as Ed tells the three last members of the crew that the shuttle was compromised, and fell to the ground from the force of the shockwave from the exploding shuttle.
And when he stands, he is done listening to them lose everything.
The Doctor is done, just done with losing people. Time forced him to lose everyone of his friends, in his eyes, and he is not going to let it take these last three survivors. He can’t lose another person, not one. Manic in his declaration, he is a rolling wave of fire and anger and rage. The fire and ice described by Tim Latimer in series three is a roiling volcano of rage. He leaps across the room. Yelling and declaring himself Lord over time and space. He has played by the Laws of Time for long enough. Played by the rules taught to him by the Time Lords and upheld their legacy after they were gone. But no more. He is THE Time Lord, now, and Lord he will be. He will not obey the Laws of Time anymore, the Laws of Time will obey him.
And with his new mastery of time and space, he does the impossible. He changes a fixed point in time and space. He saves Adelaide, Mia, and Yuri. He seems more like himself now. Smug, proud, and cool. The calm before the Storm. The volcano’s rage has cooled and now he rests until he must enforce his mastery over time once again. The Doctor is the winner. He is the single survivor of the Time Lords. Of the Time War itself. That means he gets to control time and space. It is his domain.
So that is the Time Lord Victorious that I’ll be playing.
Cooler, almost more distant. Smug and Proud. And then, in moments charged with excitement and intensity, absolute mania. Manic rage.