A lead psychiatrist's thoughts lingered on this note as he looked at the newest patient to be dragged into the asylum. Being in this line of work wasn't for the faint of heart: the most deranged of personalities resided here alongside the most utterly disturbed, with the strange and untenable residing somewhat amidst the middle of these rather off factions.
As a psychiatrist he had the distinct displeasure of watching these men wallow in their madness, making vain attempts to help them get over their illness in order to make them functioning members of society. If the man were to be perfectly frank, he'd say he'd seen just about everything there was to see in this line of work.
This new patient was, at once, no different and yet very different.
The man was distinctly Irish, though seemingly from the British segment of the island. A dark, full head of red hair sat lazily strewn about his face and, somewhat pale skin marred by freckles of various color and intensity. His nose was somewhat crooked at the bend, more likely than not from some self-inflicted injury if his impression of this patient was anything to go by.
Standing at about 5' 7" he was hardly an overwhelming appearing young man, thirty some odd years old if the psychiatrist had to guess... and yet this man managed to be far more intimidating when you met him face to face.
By all accounts he was a typical case really: bouts of madness marked by delusions of grandeur and fantasy that were likely created from memories corrupted thanks to dementia. In all reality, this should have been a snap for him to deal with.
But this man seemed to forgo reality.
The tales he spun during their first session were unlike anything he had ever heard before. Tales of far off worlds, races of creatures unheard of and a race of immortal beings, which this man claimed to be a part of. Yet, looking straight into his eyes you would know that this man felt he was telling the truth... and that he seemed to be teasing you with it.
Odd, but hardly anything to get worked up over.
Currently he was being restrained in a straitjacket, the man labeled as a danger to himself when, in an attempt to 'prove' his immortality, he offered to smash his head against a rock. Needless to say, when he actually attempted to do so, this pretty much forced the need for a straitjacket. However this jacket was being placed over top of the clothes he had come in with.
By his own insistence, which seemed to border on outright dependence and obsession, was allowed to keep the clothes he had been dragged in with: dress pants with a nice pair of shoes, a white button up shirt with a straight black neck tie, although a loose-fitting coat was kept away for the sake of having his new straitjacket fit.
A thorough search through his clothes revealed nothing of any great danger to himself, save for a mirror in one of the jacket pockets, and it was figured that a transition period in something he seemed to fancy so much would keep him from being too much of a problem initially.
Watching as the young man was dragged off, firmly trapped within the straitjacket, the psychiatrist sighed as he rubbed his forehead. It was getting late, time for him to go home...
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May 10th, 2011, 11:33 P.M. - London, England
It was late, time to get moving.
Humans were always a rather funny lot, hardly a man or woman amongst them with an open enough mind to actually listen to you when you speak with them. Talk with them about the weather or the most recent episode of one of their asinine television programs and they'll, even if only to keep up some appearance of good grace, speak with you.
Try to tell them you're an alien with a time machine that doubled as a space ship and they'd put you into the nearest asylum. Of course, he'd been counting on this little fact.
The scanners had revealed a rather odd fluctuation in the space-time continuum when he had passed by this time and date. Now, normally this wouldn't be much of a problem, considering how many time travel enabled species there were around the universe...
What made it unique was that the source anomaly was one of these humans, a species most certainly not able to travel through time... hell, barely able to travel through space at this date.
This human had been locked up in this particular asylum as well, from what he was able to gather the man had gone around telling people he was from the future, acting out rather harshly and confusedly when confronted by the people of this time.
A human from the future mysteriously ended up in a time before his own with no means of getting back to this particular time in the first place?
Why, this might as well have been a hand written invitation for him to check this out. The next part from deciding to come was the easy part: 'faking' needing to go to an asylum was always easy by human standards.
Placing his ear against the door of his padded cell, he could just barely hear the watchman start to wander his way down the hall...
Time for the decidedly more difficult part.
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Spoiler: show
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Yep, Doctor Who Quest. CURSE YOU DAVID TENNANT! YOU TOO MATT SMITH!
