Well, where would you like me to start? I'd argue I'm a fairly average build, not what you'd call skinny but definitely not on the other side of the scale either. I have long brown hair, although in recent years I've tended to cut it shorter a bit, but still long enough, parting in the middle. I quite like it now actually, slightly less foppish and a little more rock 'n' roll, which I don't think anybody can argue with.

Yes thinking about it my style towards the beginning of this regeneration was a little more...what's the word... grand I suppose. The green frock coat, the waistcoat, the cravat - yes all very Edwardian, very vintage. It was a costume I found actually, but I grew rather attached to it actually, it just seemed to fit me perfectly. I dabbled for a while with a leather jacket and shorter hair but it never really felt like me, the old frock coat always came back. It's gotten a bit dustier though, slightly battered, as has the rest of my clothes actually. It works though. Used. It shows I've actually been out doing things which is never a bad thing! I've swapped the cravat in for a neck tie, and found a rather nice pair of boots that are a lot better for travelling than shoes - lovely shoes of course, just maybe not right for all-terrain adventuring.

Well, that's a difficult one. Hopeful I think, although I suppose in recent years that's been harder to achieve. But yes, hopeful, that's the word I'd use to describe myself. People often see me as some romantic because I always aim for the best outcome, believe in people to make the right choices. Admittedly, sometimes that hope is misfounded but the times when it's not is so worthwhile.

I love the feeling of adventure too, that thrill to see new things and explore the universe - there's so much to see, so much to do! I'm eager to see it. Unlike some of my other incarnations I don't feel the need to command the room as soon as I enter it, but I'm more than happy to shout down anybody who thinks they do have some kind of authority or control. I tend to have something of a dark sense of humour, teasing my enemies when I can. That is until the push me too far, and that's when I can't control myself, and my anger tends to come out. I've always been rather emotive in this incarnation, and so when I'm hurt I lash out. It's a fault I'll admit but I can't help it. Friends of mine have said I tend to get distracted easily, or get carried away with things, but I can't help thinking they're exaggerating. I hope.

San Francisco, 1999. Beautiful place, beautiful year. It was however, where I had a rather gruesome accident thanks to a gang of street thugs and some rather confused surgeons unable to save me. Not that I'd blame that, Time Lord physiology is something a cruel mistress as I learnt in my exams at the Academy. 5 retakes, and I barely scrapped through. No, the one person I would blame would be the Master - an old friend, and now sworn enemy who'd escaped my TARDIS and was on the run.

I regenerated, although it wasn't an easy process, this body took a while to get working in every way. I'd been dead too long, and my mind, well it didn't take kindly too it. My memory was a wreck, utterly confused. Luckily that didn't last for long and with the help of a rather wonderful surgeon named Grace we managed to stop the Master before he destroyed Earth and took my remaining bodies.

From there the universe was my oyster, truly. I was alone and had a whole universe to explore, planets to run across and suns to see. But I wasn't alone for long, oh no certainly not - I met a girl named Charley aboard a crashing airship and travelled with her for a time. A wonderful person, I'd never forget her. C'Rizz of course as well, a remarkable being from another universe, who sadly decided to sacrifice himself - and as a result me and Charley parted ways. I've always wondered what happened to her really.

Then there was Lucie. Lucie Miller, she was certainly...a character. Bolshy but unstoppable, and a true friend. Somebody I miss and someone who again decided to sacrifice their life for me and the universe. And I hate it. There's so many people I've lost - C'Rizz, Lucie, Tamsin, Alex - oh Alex, my own great-grandson. I was astonished when I met him, but he got snatched away as well, and all thanks to the Daleks. Horrific creatures, creatures I should have destroyed years ago, and that's a decision that'll haunt me for years to come. I suppose then my mood to the universe dampened slightly, and only got worse as tensions between the Daleks and my own people, the Time Lords grew worse.

I travelled more but each adventure seemed to hint that something dark was happening in the universe. And then it did. The Time War. The Last Great Time War, or so I hope, because it truly was devastating. Planets erased from time, people dying for futile causes - and neither side was innocent. I was disgusted by my own people, disgusted with the Daleks for their continued crusade of cruelty. I refused to take part, to get involved, and all I'd do is attempt to help the innocent, control the damage before it got out of hand. But the war just grew and grew and eventually I realised that I really had no choice. The War was here and I had to help.

That decision dawned on me when a pilot aboard a crashing ship - someone who had no hope of survival without me - turned down my offer of help because I was a Time Lord. And she died. Cass was her name, I'll never forget it, because she was the one that made me realise that I couldn't do anymore. The universe needed someone stronger. And so when the Sisterhood of Karn gave me an offer of a new regeneration I made the choice to become a warrior. It's a decision that will haunt me, but it needed to be done. There was no need for a Doctor anymore...

35 seconds.

On a boring day 35 seconds could drag by, but it was not a boring day for the mysterious traveller called the Doctor. No if anything today was lively, perhaps too lively, dangerously lively. One good example of this would be the fact that the 35 seconds in question was the time until a bomb right in front of him would detonate. His hands tussled through the wires of the bomb, connecting them and pulling them, sonic screwdriver sat beside him as he knelt in front of the device trying to stop the inevitable blast from blowing him into a new regeneration. Not only that, but blow the ship that it was sat on into a million pieces. But 35 seconds was a challenge to the Doctor, and one he willingly leapt into.

"Yes, yes, here we are - red meets blue, or is it red meets green? Maybe green meets blue? I really am horribly out of practice with this..." he muttered to himself at a hurried pace, his mind working overtime to think of a solution.

The whole day had been something of a surprise to him if he was honest. He'd set the TARDIS to take him to Alexandria, a place he'd tried incredibly hard to get to in the past but not quite managed it. Yet again, the old girl hadn't quite pulled it off. Instead the old Time Lord ship had taken him aboard an archaic freighter, the cargo a crate full of food packages for a new colony on the other side of the Orion system. Not exactly riveting stuff. However, what had proved to be a bit of a twist was the secret cargo of alien eggs in the engine room, and the mysterious saboteur who'd kindly left the bomb for the Doctor to deal with. Of course the Doctor didn't take any pleasure out of lives being on the line and danger at every possible corner - but it was the adrenaline. That adrenaline was what saw him through, pushed him to think faster and act stronger, made sure that he saved the day and did it with a flourish and all.

That adrenaline however, hadn't stopped the countdown on the bomb reaching 12 seconds. His eyes flicked over to the timer on the bomb, and panic bubbled up within the Doctor. "12 seconds. Well, that really has flown by. I suppose it's time for something really rather clever..."