@riverkentvalley 
I'm assuming I'm suppose to write a story, with your recent annoucement.

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Running around the TARDIS console in his mad flurry, the 10th doctor, pulled a brown leaver down quickly, before spinning to the left pushing the button down. Finally he slowed and pulled the screen towards him a small smile on his young face.

The map shone on the screen the gallifreyan language circling in the right hand corner. Was he getting to old for this? But at the sound of the familar wheezing noise of the TARDIS landing he shook the thought from his head. He was never to old for adventure. He bounded over to the Y-shaped pillar where his coat hung, his long legs making short work of the distance. He pulled it on quickly, the long coat falling down by his knees. 

Once again his legs made short work of the distance between the door and the pillar. He pulled open the door in a flourish looking out at the beautiful London street. He took one step out gazing at the small cafe next to a tall black door, the golden number of 221B enscribed on it. 

He was about to go and explore when a small ping noise drew his attention back inside. He jogged back to the screen and frown at the message on the screen. 

It read: 

Have you located the 10th Doctor? Time is running out. You must find him.
~Anonymous text

It was an simple text. He didn't normal recieve simple texts, nor was he sent messages about himself. This one certainly wasn't directed at him. 
And time running out? His time certainly wasn't that he knew of. The tall lanky man stuck his head outside the TARDIS, licking the air. 

London, 2012.

Well, got rid of his idea as a message from the future. He leant against his TARDIS, confused but deep in thought.


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ahh yeah..
i actually don't like this
sorry its short
its had to write lng stories with a split thumb

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