Rupert really hasn't moved from the bed all day. He woke up in his own and promptly gathered up a book and went to bother the Doctor. He wasn't completely surprised when the Doctor was gone (probably wandering the TARDIS, that man had too much energy), so he camped out there with his book, waiting to hear or see signs of life from the man.

He really should move, though. He's even still in his pajamas (some shorts and a camisole of some sort) and isn't feeling too bad about it. His hair's a mess, he hasn't bothered with make-up at all...

But he doesn't really care. He curls up in some of the blankets and continues to read, locked in the adventure and story.

There are just some things that are meant to be told, that should be known. There are just some things that every person, as a citizen of their own home planet should be told. Especially when out of connection for so long.

For some reason, Rupert had wholly trusted the Doctor. Had believed he had informed him and hadn't thought anything of avoiding Gallifrey. It was their way, it seemed. They loved their planet but avoided it to avoid conflict. That's how things worked. When when he saw that document, that strip of data... he couldn't believe what he saw. He couldn't even fathom the idea.

Wiped right out of existence. Everything he knew and loved was gone.

No burnt orange skies or red grasses... the twin suns are long gone, faded. Perhaps even dying super novae somewhere beyond the reach of time and space.

He turns from the console, closing the data string immediately and closing his eyes. He's in shock-- he doesn't know if he should cry, should scream, should feel so utterly alone...

He starts away from the console, giving it the smallest of brushes with his hand to try and at least prove he's not angry with the TARDIS. But there was a certain Time Lord he had to speak to. Rupert was walking with broken purpose, a battle behind his eyes and lips curved into an indefinite frown.

"Doctor!" He shouts for the man, hands shaking and hearts racing.

Maybe he misread. It couldn't be true.

He really shouldn't be sneaking around in the big kid classrooms. He's been told not to, but right now, he's hiding under desks, fidgeting lightly with a few extra data pads. (Mind you, when he says fidgeting, he's reprogramming; and when he says extra, he means he's stolen them away from the desks they were left at temporarily).

Rupert can hear a few good students start to ruffle in, and he curls himself up under the desk units, still playing lightly. Maybe he'll get stuck with a few nice students this time around, who won't give him up to the teacher.

To anyone passing, he would look like a cute-as-a-button little girl who might've wandered away from her Time Lord parent. He's in a little dress and even some stockings and mary janes to match and his hair back up in a ribbon.

Perfection in little <s>girl</s> boy form.