(This is going to be kind of vague on where entrances will be. If you wish to join, your character will either have to have been visited or traveled with the Doctor, or will be visited by the Doctor in any of his incarnations.
If you are a Doctor, this RP is about the moments before your regeneration, where the anxieties and flashbacks happen. If you are a Timelord, your replies will be centered around keeping time in order.)
The TARDIS was silent, almost still. The console emitted it's usual humming and buzzing it usually did, but somehow, it didn't seem to make any sound whatsoever. The console room was dimly lit, illuminated only by the time rotor and the various buttons that lit up across the panels. There didn't seem to be any signs of life at all in the TARDIS, except for the man quietly sitting in a plush, dark green velvet chair several feet away from the console.
The man, although shadowed by the chair and his large amounts of fluffy, curly hair, was sitting propped up with his chin resting on his hand, which was in return resting on the armrest. His legs were crossed, exposing the details of his burgundy argyle socks and his brown suede shoes. His corderouy knickers were comfortably loose around his thighs, held up by two golden-green suspenders, which were hidden under a maroon-saffron velvet vest, exposing his white, wide-lapeled question mark shirt.
His face was stern, austere. His gaze was endless, timeless even. His eyes had seen worlds being torn apart by galactic freaks occurrences, civilizations flourish under oppressive rule, and things that would turn the hair of even Rassilon white. And yet, he still continued on. Still living his life and doing his duties to humanity everywhere he went. But why.....?
He could only chuckle as thoughts of him and Sarah Jane bounced through his head. The endless and timeless adventures with Romana, in both of her incarnations. The countless smiles that Jamie and Zoe and Victoria brought him. The tear on his cheek when he said good-bye to Susan. The memories went on and on...
After what seemed like centuries of sitting in the chair, the Doctor got up and went over to his console. The message that was displaying earlier was still there, and still as cryptic as ever. And yet he knew exactly what it meant: his time had come to an end.
The message, although difficult to translate into Earth English, roughly translated into a distress call from Logopolis, a city of mathematicians and scientists that held the universe together with the sheer power of numbers alone. The call beckoned the Doctor to come pay a visit. But that's not what set the Doctor off, oh no. It was who the message was sent by, that really got him. At the bottom of the message, in circular Gallifrean, was the distinctly familiar arrangements of circles and lines that spelled out the Doctor's name. But not just any old Doctor, oh no. It was a mysterious part of him that only went by the name "The Watcher".
The Doctor frowned. Adric was still on board, although fast asleep. It was time to say good-bye to Adric, at least with this face. Nothing would ever be the same again...