Post by The First Doctor on Oct 22, 2011 21:17:07 GMT -5
Original
Name: Robert Duncan Goodall
Aliases: Robin (although really, there's only one person that calls him that). Al'mu'tafil.
Age: Depends on the year. He was born April 1, 1908
Species: Human.
Planet of Origin: Earth. Born in Edinburgh. Raised in Inverness (where the family estate is to be found), Cairo, and Delhi.
Occupation: Robert's been (in no particular order) a theoretical physicist, a British Foreign Office Agent, a cryptographer and codebreaker, a soldier of fortune, a prospector and an archaeologist. Often, there was a lot of bleed-through between those professions. Currently, he is employed by the Torchwood Institute and is one of two active field agents in the Institute's Belfast office.
Physical Description: Robert has auburn hair that he keeps short and parts on the left, and brown eyes. He has a bit of a cleft in his chin, his nose has been broken at least once and not set quite right, and he smiles readily. He's muscular, but not bulky - the sort of build that comes from dedicated cross-training (or a lifetime of riding, and fighting, and running). He also has an assortment of scars on his arms and torso (mostly from blades, although a few are from gunshots), and a few on his head (mostly covered by his hair, although there is a very thin - almost invisible - scar about 3 inches long on his right cheek).
History: Robert Goodall has never stopped wandering. His father, Kenneth Neil Goodall, was the oldest son of a successful rubber and coffee importer. His mother was Lady Jane Roxton, daughter and only child of the famous hunter and explorer Lord John Roxton. Kenneth Goodall moved his family constantly, overseeing the family business across the British Empire.
Robert had the finest private education his father's money could buy. He was an avid student, particularly adept at mathematics and languages. He could read and speak Latin, Greek, German, French, and Arabic fluently by the time he was ten. By the time he was sixteen, he was admitted to Cambridge. His father never really understood why his course of study was advanced maths and physics, but he generally approved ("A good head for numbers will serve the lad well, when its time to take over the family business.").
After graduation, Robert determined that he would make his own way in the world. Earn his own fortune, not simply inherit one that had been made for him. His father approved ("dang fine idea, lad. Teach you to understand the value of money."). For nearly a decade he vanished into the Middle East, with only the occasional letter or menton in Official Documents to show what he had done in the service of Crown and Country.
In 1936, he was recruited into the Torchwood Institute, to serve as the replacement for the missing third agent in the new Belfast office. He's been there two years. In that time, he's encountered devil worshippers, IRA saboteurs with off-world weapons, aquatic lizard men, a bear-sized man-bat, and dinosaurs. He still doesn't believe in the supernatural, no matter what the sexy Irish hellcat that runs the office says.
Additional Medical Information: Robert is mildly far-sighted, and needs reading glasses for fine print and to make out poor handwriting. He's self-conscious about this.
This Robert also doesn't actually exist. He is nothing more than an elaborate construct of the Nornir Loom and the Chameleon Arch of the Meddler's TARDIS, an identity designed to withstand scrutiny for an indefinite period of time. (Kenneth Goodall and Lady Jane Roxton are real. Robert was real, although that real Robert died in Cairo in 1927.)
The keystone for the Meddler's transformation is not a pocket watch. For reasons of her own, the Meddler's TARDIS hid his biodata signature inside the heavy platinum ring he wears on his left hand. Most people don't notice it, and only a Time Lord would remember it. The restoration protocol is keyed to Robert's thoughts, and to a single word in High Gallifreyan. A word that, translated into the crude barking symbols of English, may be rendered as "Dreamweaver".
Name: Robert Duncan Goodall
Aliases: Robin (although really, there's only one person that calls him that). Al'mu'tafil.
Age: Depends on the year. He was born April 1, 1908
Species: Human.
Planet of Origin: Earth. Born in Edinburgh. Raised in Inverness (where the family estate is to be found), Cairo, and Delhi.
Occupation: Robert's been (in no particular order) a theoretical physicist, a British Foreign Office Agent, a cryptographer and codebreaker, a soldier of fortune, a prospector and an archaeologist. Often, there was a lot of bleed-through between those professions. Currently, he is employed by the Torchwood Institute and is one of two active field agents in the Institute's Belfast office.
Physical Description: Robert has auburn hair that he keeps short and parts on the left, and brown eyes. He has a bit of a cleft in his chin, his nose has been broken at least once and not set quite right, and he smiles readily. He's muscular, but not bulky - the sort of build that comes from dedicated cross-training (or a lifetime of riding, and fighting, and running). He also has an assortment of scars on his arms and torso (mostly from blades, although a few are from gunshots), and a few on his head (mostly covered by his hair, although there is a very thin - almost invisible - scar about 3 inches long on his right cheek).
History: Robert Goodall has never stopped wandering. His father, Kenneth Neil Goodall, was the oldest son of a successful rubber and coffee importer. His mother was Lady Jane Roxton, daughter and only child of the famous hunter and explorer Lord John Roxton. Kenneth Goodall moved his family constantly, overseeing the family business across the British Empire.
Robert had the finest private education his father's money could buy. He was an avid student, particularly adept at mathematics and languages. He could read and speak Latin, Greek, German, French, and Arabic fluently by the time he was ten. By the time he was sixteen, he was admitted to Cambridge. His father never really understood why his course of study was advanced maths and physics, but he generally approved ("A good head for numbers will serve the lad well, when its time to take over the family business.").
After graduation, Robert determined that he would make his own way in the world. Earn his own fortune, not simply inherit one that had been made for him. His father approved ("dang fine idea, lad. Teach you to understand the value of money."). For nearly a decade he vanished into the Middle East, with only the occasional letter or menton in Official Documents to show what he had done in the service of Crown and Country.
In 1936, he was recruited into the Torchwood Institute, to serve as the replacement for the missing third agent in the new Belfast office. He's been there two years. In that time, he's encountered devil worshippers, IRA saboteurs with off-world weapons, aquatic lizard men, a bear-sized man-bat, and dinosaurs. He still doesn't believe in the supernatural, no matter what the sexy Irish hellcat that runs the office says.
Additional Medical Information: Robert is mildly far-sighted, and needs reading glasses for fine print and to make out poor handwriting. He's self-conscious about this.
This Robert also doesn't actually exist. He is nothing more than an elaborate construct of the Nornir Loom and the Chameleon Arch of the Meddler's TARDIS, an identity designed to withstand scrutiny for an indefinite period of time. (Kenneth Goodall and Lady Jane Roxton are real. Robert was real, although that real Robert died in Cairo in 1927.)
The keystone for the Meddler's transformation is not a pocket watch. For reasons of her own, the Meddler's TARDIS hid his biodata signature inside the heavy platinum ring he wears on his left hand. Most people don't notice it, and only a Time Lord would remember it. The restoration protocol is keyed to Robert's thoughts, and to a single word in High Gallifreyan. A word that, translated into the crude barking symbols of English, may be rendered as "Dreamweaver".
