The Doctor (
rude_not_ginger) wrote2008-03-23 01:19 am
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Mun is SOOOOO drunk at the moment...Whatever you want to do to the Doctor...GO FOR IT.
The Doctor sat at the pier just near the Hub in Cardiff.
Just relaxing, with a bottle of wine.
The Doctor sat at the pier just near the Hub in Cardiff.
Just relaxing, with a bottle of wine.
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He smacked his lips and considered. "Right, not alien, so that's right. Not Winchester that's right. Part of it. Genetic predisposition to alterations? No, no, that's not close enough. Clone, maybe? Taken from Dean's genes? No, no, his sense of smell isn't nearly strong enough. Maybe...time traveler? Time Agent?"
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"Not a time agent, right. But you're not saying no to the cloning bit. I'm thinking...no." Pause. "Yes!" Another pause. "No!"
A grin.
"Yes! In the late 21st century, humans began publicly talking about genetic creations, creating 'ideal' humans. Sort of like Gattica but without Uma Thurman. That was public, but I doubt that sort of thing wasn't taking place secretly."
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The man was hilarious to watch. All that enthusiasm in a pair of Chucks. "Nice! Close. But not quite there yet."
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"Genetic experimentation? Cross-breed cloning? Something out of Torchwood---no, no, you said you weren't an alien."
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He wouldn't give up, though!
"US Government? I've never been very good with American conspiracies."
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"US Government. Or, to be specific, hey look! Hint time! Government funded subcontractors."
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He probably did, so he continued to ramble.
"Well, judging by your weight and intelligence, you're not a Bill Gates clone...I'd say...military, perhaps?"
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"A military prototype of the perfect soldier. Clearly rebellious, otherwise you'd still be in no-see-ums and wandering about killing things for the subcontractors who created you."
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"So they were exposed, then?"
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"Oh totally exposed. Like a streaker in Time Square."
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"Just...put down? Like some sort of animal? That's disgusting."
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"Just destroy a living being because you haven't worked the way they planned? Eliminate evidence? And in the end, for what? So they have a perfect soldier to go out and die some more?"
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The Doctor unclenched his hands and tried to regain the bubbly-happy he had moments before. It was gone.
"So tell me, Alec. Who are you?"
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He spun again to walk backward, head tilting a bit, in the curious cat way he has. "Who am I? X5-331845739494, 494 for short, some name that was taken from me long ago, Lucky Charm, Simon LeHane, Smart Alec, McDowell which I picked out randomly, Winchester by late arrival. A weapon, a protector, a monster, a soldier, husband, brother. Take your pick." He holds out his arms wide. "No one has ever asked me that before."
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