The Sixteenth Doctor*

A never-ending canvas, backwashed in obsidian. Splashes of deep purple, vivid pinks and greens, break through the grip the darkness has over the board. Prominent in the foreground, a cascade of planets and constellations, bringing depth and life and meaning to the infinite portrait, as well as an heightened sensory excitement, through the plethora of colors that exude from them.

Truly, this was a breathtaking work of art, a natural masterpiece that could not be improved upon in any way...

But wait.

Situated right at the heart of the portraiture, there appeared to be the most unusual star, which emitted a sparkling golden energy that reached out across the centre of the canvas like a pair of electrified arms and legs.

No, not like. Those were arms and legs.

If the observer of this portrait could step into the canvas and proceed to swim through the endless sea of stars before them, they would, give or take a few thousand light years, reach the centre of the Milky Way galaxy, whereupon they would be welcomed by the unexpected. For this was no unusual star. It was, indeed, a body. A body on fire. Not a body dying by fire, mind. No. This was a body being born by it or, more specifically, being reborn. The head and the arms could not be clearly made out, the features obscured by the radiant energy that consumed them. Only the torso and the legs were still visible in this bizarre spectacle. It was clothed in a white T-shirt with a dark blue pinstripe waiscoat, a matching kilt and chunky black leather boots completing the striking attire.

As quickly and intensely as the fiery energy had lit up the entire galaxy like a bonfire on a dark Autumn night, it was soon dissipating, the energy around the head parting to reveal the face of a woman. Her hair, long and golden blonde, was equally as compelling as the flames that surrounded it. Eyes, as blue as the Caribbean sea on a summer's day, sat proudly above a pixyish nose and plump lips. The squareness of her face, coupled with the prominent cheekbones and strong, angular jawline, acted like a frame to contain the angelic beauty she possessed. Upon her birth into the universe, the woman's newly born eyes widened as she took in every detail around her, every breathtaking nook and cranny of the space she was floating in, above a blue, wooden box. She then proceeded to gaze down upon the clothes she was wearing. They were clothes from another time, another life, but she loved them. In that momentary instance, amongst everything else going on, all the thoughts flooding her newly formed brain, she decided she would keep them. They were very her, very rock and roll.

Ooo, a calling towards what her identity would be was already taking shape. Nice.