Thought about posting this to sixwordstories, decided not to.

I'm brilliant.

That's really all, actually.

OOC: For ROTM

Here's a recent prompt I'm fairly fascinated with. I know how I write the Tenth Doctor. I'm interested in seeing how everyone else might create the same situation.

MUN PROMPT:
You know how YOU write your muse. Now, pick out two other writers who you admire. How do you think they would each write a very short drabble of the same situation for your muse? If anyone would like, they can actually do this, and discuss the results. Nothing complicated. It can be as simple as a muse having a cup of coffee, ordering lunch, asking someone to dance. The exercise is in seeing the difference between how you see/write them and someone else would.

So! Let's make this prompt an interesting one. I know I can't copy other people's styles, and I wouldn't want to, but I'd like to know what other people might do in the same situation.

Anyone who would like to, please write a scene with the Tenth Doctor having tea first thing in the morning and post it here. If you'd like to post it in your journal, please link me to it here. I'll write my own little drabble up and link it along with any other responses people might write.

Please don't feel like it's a competition! I'm very interested in seeing how other people see the character I play. I know I definitely don't play him like others do, and I'd love to see how you would take it! If you have an AU Ten and you'd like to write his AU doing this drabble, that would rock my world as well.

I'll post my drabble/links to your drabbles on Christmas Day, so no rush for anyone who wants to try it.

for mind_the_muse: 3/4 a person

We forfeit three-fourths of ourselves in order to be like other people.
-Arthur Schopenhauer

"If you're changing every single cell…isn't it gonna hurt?"

He knows it will. He may have never completed the process before, but he's seen it done. He's watched the tele-viewers in his classrooms and he'd documented the cellular changes in experimental subjects. When asked about the pain level, their calm Gallifreyan voices would break a little as they spoke: "Horrific."

"Oh, yeah, it'll hurt."

All the same, he finishes up the settings and sits on the chair. He straps the chameleon arch onto his head and takes a breath. Looks at Martha. She looks so scared.

He wishes there was more time. More time to explain to her what was about to happen, what he needed for her to do. He created that list just prior to getting the chameleon arch ready, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't anywhere near enough.

And he couldn't emphasize enough on the list about how she needed to prevent him from eating pears. Not enough time.

"You might want to…" Look away? Get away? He's seen what this can do, and he's not certain he wants to have an image of him screaming burned into her mind. No, he's actually quite certain he does not want that in her mind. Especially if she's going to have to see him as only a quarter of who he truly is for the next few months.

Three-quarters. That's what the experiments on Gallifrey would say. Three-quarters of the DNA and genetic makeup and brain capacity. That's how much is pulled out whenever something like this is done. It's compressed and put into the larger-on-the-inside pocket watch. He imagines it's like he's lost all his limbs and his head and he'll be this bloody torso with only Martha to carry him around, but even that's too much. So much of him will be gone.

He looks at her imploringly. Begging her to leave before he terrifies himself into stopping.

"Quit lookin' at me like that, Doctor, I'm not going anywhere." She's put on a brave face. He has the strangest desire to tell her brave heart, Martha. Maybe he's just feeling nostalgic. Which isn't too terrible a thing. He won't have any memory of what to be nostalgic about in a moment.

He nods. Takes a breath. Presses the button.

3/4ths of him is ripped out in two heartbeats. His cells are pulled and pushed and pulled away and taken and shoved and he screams and screams and screams----two heartbeats of complete agony. Then one more heartbeat. Only one heartbeat. Only one.

He's like them, now. He can hide.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 447

for fandom_muses: Do you have faith?

Once.

When you're little, the Sisters seem like this great…they seem big. Very big. Time, Pain, and Death, all floating about the universe, it all makes sense.

And I believed once.

You see…when the universe was very young, three Sisters were born. No, no, not born. Not exactly. Woven. Brought into being. The eldest was Time. Most beautiful, most intelligent. The middle child was Pain, she always came to visit far too early and stayed long past her welcome. The youngest was Death. She was the only truly social member of the family. Danced with everyone once. Often…only once.

Still, when you're a wee little Time Tot at the Academy or on Mummy's knee and they tell you about the Sisters, you believe. You believe because it's easier to believe. It's as if they've given you a glass of water. It's a very small glass because you're a very small person, and it's enough. But then you get older and want a larger glass, but they only have the same amount of water. It's like that. You get thirsty after a while. Start thinking about what things that shouldn't be, because why would the Sisters let that happen?

When I was exiled, right after my second incarnation, I wondered what that meant. Was I cut off from the Sisters? Faith was fairly thin by that point at any rate, but the Sisters resided on Gallifrey. And I…well, I couldn't go back to Gallifrey, could I? Did that mean I'd never feel pain or die? Well, I mean, no, of course not. Felt pain, felt it all the time. Died later, but only a little bit. So…all those things were there, but that made the story wrong. It was like a little bit of history was mistaken, and that's a very, very important thing to a Time Lord. History has to be perfect facts have to be right.

And what about the others? What about the humans? I've seen such potential in them, but according to what we're taught, they don't get the same uh, privileges that Gallifreyans get from their Gods. All the mercy, hate, and justice in the world, and they can't protect some innocent humans? Doesn't make any sense to me. I protect them, and I'm far from a God. Or a trifecta of Gods, matter of fact. Three times the ability to bounce around and right things.

And what about that 'time is young' bit? Time doesn't age, things do. People do! And how do you weave Sisters without genetic material? Or even a Loom?

It doesn't fit. It just…doesn't.

I've taken to reading about Earth's religions. To better understand my companions, since they always seem to be humans nowadays. There's one I rather like. Neo Classic. They don't believe so much in a God or in a Devil or what-have-you. It's more…the things that men do. It can be the same difference, if you think about it.

Still. Things that men do. I've seen a man take a Dalek blast to the chest because he thought he could save someone else five more minutes to save a planet. I've seen a woman swallow the Time Vortex. I've seen a man sell out his bride in order to gain the favor of an Empress. I've seen that bride still admit she loved him. And Martha…I've seen a lot. A lot of things people will sacrifice for what's right and what's wrong.

In the end, the universe sets itself correctly. Evil survives, yes. But good, good survives. No, it prevails.

I can't believe in many things, but I can believe in that.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 608