Givenup Eleventh

by chewy-the-ponyu

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Tragedy, Random, Crossover, Doctor Whooves
Length: 1050

The backstory for Toppy, tumblr Doctor Whooves

This is the backstoy/beginning of my tumblr Doctor Whooves, Givenup 11th, AKA Toppy. (Ask Given Up 11th) I just thought it would be good to clarify his pony starters, so I wrote this. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Published 2013-09-30 22:50:04 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-30 22:50:04 UTC

Just a Problem...

“I tried!” A man said pulling down on a lever attached to a strange machine console. He twisted a few knobs as a tear dribbled down his cheek.

“No. I have saved the world so many times. I have saved my companions so many times. And what do I get? Nothing!” He swung his leg forward, knocking his foot into the console. A loud rumble followed the kick.

“Maybe the Timelords were right about something. Maybe I shouldn’t have even bothered trying to save lives or meddle with time. I should have left it the way it was. They can deal with their own problems!”
He wavered around the panels and sunk down on the floor. His face twisted in a combination of fear, anger, and sorrow. He covered his face with his hands, noticing them glow a bright yellow only for a second, before dissipating back to his normal skin-tone.

“Another regeneration. Once again due to the human race!” Lifting up his head, he took his hand and ripped off the red bow tie around his neck.

“The Doctor, eh?” He frowned, look at the strip of red fabric.

“‘The Chin’, ‘The Oncoming Storm,’ ‘The Caretaker’… ‘The Raggedy Man’…” His voice lowered into a whisper as he grasped the bow tie. “So many names. So many and not one of them is true.” The Doctor yelled as he jumped back up, throwing the bow tie across the Control Room. He leaned over and pulled out a box hidden under a floor-panel, pulling out a fez and Stetson. He looked at them for a few seconds before throwing the two in the direction where the bowtie had disappeared. Next out of the box was two keys, hung on separate strings. Sighing, the man stuffed them in his inside coat pocket. Afterwards he pulled out a sonic probe with a green tip. The Doctor frowned again.

“I am not the Doctor!” He yelled, jumping up and slamming the device on the ground. It snapped into three small pieces. “This is not my TARDIS!” He spun around the console twisting, pushing, and pulling on the controls. Sitting among the various buttons and levers sat a small fob watch. His eyes landed on it, and he held his own gaze.

“I can’t help anyone anymore.” He almost fell down as the TARDIS spun wildly out of control. “So I’ll go somewhere it doesn’t matter.” He pulled over the watch and stuck it in his pocket. Stepping over to an old-fashioned typewriter; he punched random keys, then looked up to a screen above his head. Tapping his finger on the screen, he pulled over to the left a circular gallifreyan touch screen, used to find and lock on to coordinates. Twisting it in random directions hoping to end up somewhere unknown–although he usually does anyways.

Yanking back on a lever to his right, he held onto the console’s rail. The TARDIS whirred around, and balance was practically thrown out the window- IN A MATAPHORICAL SENSE. The time-teller began to flip at an impossible rate until the glass broke and cards that told numbers flew out of place and landed on 0:00.

“The closest name I have is ‘The Predator!’” The man’s eyes grew glassy as more tears began to stream down his cheeks. His whole hands and feet became engulfed by yellow light. He stepped his arms and legs, not looking up. “I’m not the Doctor, and I can’t change the world. I’m sorry Rose, Martha, Donna, River…Rory," he choked on his own tears and spit. "Amy…” He paused as if he were questioning what he was sorry for. “I’m sorry you couldn’t escape me.”

I sat up, lonely, quiet…silence…My aching head, oh my aching head! It was all I was thinking about, the pain, what happened, what was happening? I’m really not sure. Maybe somepony could help me. Some ‘pony’? What am I saying? Pfft, silly me. Hrm…I’m hungry…What am I hungry for? APPLES! Yes, apples! Ew, GROSS! Apples are bad! I kinda’ want some hay…hay? What the bloody hell?! Must be the regeneration. Gaaaaaaaaaaah my head!

I lifted up my hands to lay my head in my palms. The pain was horrible. I feel like my entire brain has been thrown around and stuffed in a container. But as I touched my forehead, all I hit was something hard. My eyes trailed down to my hand. “What am I?” I whispered lowly to myself. But in my sight, all I could see was a brown…hoof? “WHAT?” I yelled, jumping upwards, finding myself almost snort dis comfortingly, but I stopped myself.

“Whaaaa? A…pony? Equine? I still want fish fingers and custard now. Am I ginger?!?!” I wriggled around the console, trying to stay standing on my hooves, but only found myself stumbling about. I leaned forward towards the console, mumbling awkwardly as I twisted about. Pulling around a mirror from the console I wrinkled my nose.

“Dangit, still not ginger!” I complained, before taking notice to what I had become. “Bleh, BROWN! I’m brown and fuzzy! What is with my haaaaaaaair! This looks so weird! I don’t understand it! How was this even possible? This isn’t possible!”
I fell backwards, landing with a shot of pain down my spine. The shape was uncomfortable, I wasn’t used to it.

The TARDIS rumbled oddly, and the smell of smoke with regeneration energy filled the console room. I knew I had to get out of there, but I wanted nothing to do with leaving. I mean come on! Who would want to? I felt renewed, like nothing could stop me!

Until I realized, that there was a lot that could stop me…apart from the fact I remembered I wanted nothing to do with another race again…

Maybe I don’t have to…maybe I can try to help! I thought to myself. But…I don’t want to hurt anyone else…Amy oh Amy I wish you were here so bad! I’m so sorry…why did you…I wish…I-…

It fell into an awkward silence, even though I was the only one there. The only noise was the TARDIS, it rang in my head like a church bell for a human Sunday in Britain.
Bah, what do I know…I’m just a kooky old man…I mean...uh…stallion with a problem…