[ WP ] A teenage boy , a young man in his twenties , and an old man are sat in a room together . They are the same man at different ages , discussing life .

Two men sat across from each other at a large mahogany table. The table, situated in a grand hall, stood below a massive glass roof, showing the brilliant stars of the Medusa Cascade. The table itself was a work of art. A relic of the men's home planet. Intricate carvings, done in ancient scripture telling the story of wars and empires and adventures. It was an autobiography. As for the men, they sat there in silence, waiting for the third member of their meeting. This day had been planned a long time ago. 
 
 The man on the left was an older fellow. His long gray hair combed back away from his forehead, looping around under his ears. He wore a suit with a bow tie, his collar turned up at his neck. The loose ends of the bow tie hanging down to his breastplate. 
 
 The man on the right, a younger fellow in his late twenties slouched in the grand leather chair. His hair hung in an arc over his forehead. He sported a tweed jacket. Beneath it was a pink dress shirt. Two thin leather suspenders slung over his shoulders. A red bowtie perched under his neck. On the table in front of him sat a fez, the tassles of which he fiddled with as he constantly checkd his watch. Although this man was visibly younger, his eyes seemed so much more older than his elderly counterpart. `` He's late.'' Said the younger man, angrily. And then, almost as if on cue, the familiar wheezing and groaning filled the hall. It echoed for a few seconds and then a younger man, a boy even, burst through the grand hall doors. 
 
 The young man stood up from his seat and glared at the new arivee. `` You're late. Doctor.'' 
 
 The teen laughed. `` Sorry Doctor. The tardis detected you two. Did n't want to land. Gave me a hell of a ride the old girl did.'' 
 
 The oldest man remained seated. `` Doctor. Hello.'' 
 
 `` Oh my. It's been a while since I've seen you. Must be around fourteen hundred years by now.'' The teen turned to the man in his twenties. `` You're much newer. You must be what, twelve?'' 
 
 `` Eleven.'' Replied the man. 
 
 `` Alright. Let's get to business.'' Said the elderly man. `` We all know why were here.'' 
 
 `` Yes. The table.'' Said Eleven. 
 
 `` The Biography.'' Stated the teen. 
 
 `` When I first stole the TARDIS, the first place I visited was the great library. I found this table and took on board, as you said I should.'' Said the elder to Eleven. `` I want to know why.'' 
 
 Eleven sighed. `` This table, as you might have realized, is our story. Sometime in my... in all of our future, we carved this table and left it as a guide for our lifetime. Whenever things become too dark, we have to cheat. We read the table to find the way out. I called you here, one, to tell you to leave this table here. I have discovered that this table can not be. It is an anomaly in the time vortex. It has worked for my twelve hundred years, but the vortex is starting to fight back. It can not have someone that knows their own timeline. It is trying to erase us from time. One, if you leave this table here, it may calm the vortex. But if it does n't, I called the oldest version of myself I could find, to plea with him to not carve the table. I do n't know the circumstances under which we carve this table. But please, if you ever find yourself in them. Do one thing, and one thing only.'' 
 
 `` And what is that.'' Said the teen. 
 
 The man breathed in, and looked deep in to the teen's old eyes. He grinned, as if recalling a distant memory, and then said, `` Run.''
