Since it's come up many times now and I'm tired of repeating myself, I'm doing a primer. Listen up boys and girls, I'm only going to say this once and if anyone asks again I'll--

[His voice shifts to a low growl.] Kill them.

No, Six, we'll ignore them.

The oft asked question: what am I and what's with the voices?

[He takes out the 3D pen Jedao gave him and starts sketching in the air like a professor writing on a chalk board. He writes out "Time Lord" and below that "Gallifrey." The filaments are delicate, but he programmed the pen to create a material that's mildly psychically active so he can suspend them with his mind like a Sepulchasm game piece.]

I'm a Time Lord of Gallifrey, planetary coordinates 10-0-11-0-0 by 02 from galactic 0 center in the Stellian galaxy. Not human, thankfully. My people regenerate at the point of death. Every atom is renewed into a new body in a massive burst of energy, a new personality emerges, but memories persist. Each regeneration is a new person, same Time Lord.

The voices are a condition I have, called regenerative dissonance. [He writes the words in the air below "Gallifrey."] When I regenerate, the psyches of my past selves remain fully present, instead of sleeping quietly in my mind.

[His voice shifts to a nasal and brisk tone.] It's very rare and there is no treatment or cure.

Quiet, Seven, I'm giving the lecture.

[A shrill voice:] I'm bored!

Shut up, Three. Most dissonants don't survive very long; I'm the most successful one on record. So no one really knows how things go from here.

If you have questions, this is your one and only chance to ask.

[Inmate Filter]

Do your warden-requested possessions always turn to water after a while or am I just special?

[He tried to take apart the personal computer John Doe had requested for him, hoping to repurpose the parts, and to his frustration the whole thing dissolved into liquid.]

[Closed to Malcolm]

[Just because he hates Malcolm doesn't mean he intends to avoid him. Even though he can't murder Malcolm, he still has a perverse desire to seek him out. To prove something although even he's not sure what exactly it is he wants to prove. And so he goes to the counselling offices and seeks Malcolm out there.]

Hello, Bright, people tell me something's wrong with my head. What do you think, in your professional opinion?

[His movements are calm and his tone of voice is mild curiosity, and yet he's still radiating hostility.]

[Open Spam]

[The Eleven isn't terribly sociable but he can be found in the dining hall once a day eating a meal, or in the library shelving media according to his own obscure and seeming irrational classification system, or on the deck looking at the starscape and talking to himself.]