trans_9 | Reflection [Open]

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Reflection [Open]

It doesn’t make sense. Or, rather, to be entirely truthful, it makes just enough to bother him and that basically amounts to the same thing.

The Doctor paces in front of the blast shield in the Observation Deck. Right now, he thinks he needs a good pace, something to help him think. No sign of Amy or Rory yet, which is surprising, in its own way. Amy has a habit of managing things all on her own, whether it’s saving him from that stint with the Time Vortex and the Entity or the whole of reality. Rory couldn’t be in better hands. If she is on the ship, he would have expected her to come dragging Rory after her by now. So no, it’s not really like Amy there. As for Rory…actually, the Doctor can see him getting lost here; between forgetting to check for gills, the plant-suits and meeting a load of aliens in a huge living ship, a human like Rory might feel slightly overwhelmed. Probably a bit distracting, yeah…

The howling nothing is still out there, the Doctor turning to look past the shield at it. It’s pretty, in the making-you-feel-slightly-nauseous kind of way.

Or maybe that’s just him.

Vaguely disturbing to look at or not, the Doctor glances out at the void outside of Stacy. It’s hardly the first time worlds, plural, have been destroyed or just generally threatened or in a peril-like sort of state. It's actually quite common. But there are signs or it’s meant to happen (history) except he knows as a fact that this isn’t one of those times. Amy and Rory's Earth has a very specific date of death and "death by Ohm" isn't right. This isn’t just a rogue black hole swallowing a dynasty’s system of planets or a quasar misbehaving. It’s…different. The Doctor turns away from the window, holding up the omnicomm in one hand. By now he’s stopped calling it a Thingie, even if it’s a much better name in his opinion. Useful thing, this omnicomm. Helps to keep in touch. He’s been trying to hack into it and get a direct line to Stacy but so far, no luck. Deadlocked, he supposes. Or maybe the new new sonic is still adjusting. Working out the bugs.

The sonic buzzes green in the Observation Deck as the Doctor continues to pace without looking before the blast shield. Occasionally he stops to twiddle around with the omnicomm, long fingers blurring, before he reads another setting on the sonic and then the cycle starts over. Every now and then he might make a full circle of the room, by some miracle not tripping over the fleshy seats, and might try listening to the walls or poking at where they meet the floor. Or what stands for a floor in a techno-organic ship.

[The Doctor is either poking around or looking serious business at the view, whatever works for you]

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"Uh... space has flavors?" Suddenly, Tavros feels like he doesn't understand anything. "I didn't think there was, um, any real difference between space and this void. It's all just... empty."

"But what point are you proving?" He hadn't been trying to offend, he'd simply been curious. "I mean, if you could get it to give up its secrets...what would you do with them? I'm sorry. I'm out of practice with smalltalk, I didn't mean..." He looked away, back to the window and the depths of space outside it, visibly taking a breath.

He smiled a little at the enthusiastic handshake. "It's plain. But I like it. I guess it'd be more exciting to be Barnabas or Alexander or Winston, but Tom isn't a name I have to live up to. It's a name I can grow for myself. No one expects anything from you, I guess it makes things more surprising when you do something. I guess some people go looking for adventure, they want to be great. I don't. I think I'd be perfectly happy staying at home with my parents and my brother and going to med school once I graduate high school."

That was a strange dream to have, a strange thing to wish for. But he had survived so much, going home seemed like the greatest reward he could possibly receive. "You're an alien?" He blinked, eyes flicking unconsciously to his ear before going back to his face. He didn't look like an alien, but...Yeerks didn't look like aliens in the right host. There was nothing saying that somewhere out there, there wasn't another race that looked like humans. "Yeah, it's incredible. I never get tired of it, and the fact that the ship is alive...it's just, it's like a dream, sometimes. Only I don't think my brain is this creative."

"Yes, the lights. You asked me about them, remember?" Merlin said, staring. He was beginning to feel like he could never ever complain about any of Arthur's demands again, because no matter what Arthur asked him to do at least he made sense.

Then Merlin startled, blindsided at the sudden change in subject. "Nervous? No I'm not nervous. Why would I be nervous?" he said, babbling.

"Forgive me, but what exactly is an 'energy core pit?' I don't know much about spaceships." Even if she had, Kanaya was fairly sure Alternian-make vessels weren't anything like this, but... she'd never really paid attention to the fleet. She'd figured that sort of thing could wait until she was actually on it, and it was strange to have been proven wrong.

"It does sound attractive, though," she mused, vaguely reminded of the Forge. "Is it what the ship runs on?" She leaned back against the couch, probably just as pleased as the Doctor was by its texture.

Messing with the security protocols? He could get around most encryptions on the device. The basest levels- the default 'locking' of a post- were easy enough to get by if you knew them. Not that he really bothered looking into anyone's locked stuff. That was rude. "Why are you t-trying to hack th-the system? I-is there s-something you w-wanted to read?"

Alex stepped into the tunnel with a bit of a wince. He wasn't exactly fond of being passed through a tunnel by thousands of tentacles, but it made moving through the levels practical. He called out, "hanger," to get them started in the right direction.

"It's fine," the Doctor waved away the apology. "Except you answered your own question. Why not get it to give up its secrets?"

It was only a matter of time and from the way Tom the Human here was talking, he probably hadn't tinkered around with it just because he was bored or curious or just because. "Just because" was one of his personal favorites. Loads of things someone could find out from a few "just becauses". Anyway, he didn't believe Tom when he said he wasn't very creative: he'd just given three good reasons why he was creative with those names. All three of those names were far better than boring old Tom (he especially liked Barnabas. Barnabas was the antithesis of Tom in that it was cool. And Winston wasn't too shabby either). Barnabas the Human. Excellent name right there, one for the books.

Except Tom seemed downright determined to aim for a boringly normal life, kicking and screaming. It occurred to the Doctor that he would probably be good friends with Rory, if they ever met. They could talk about how fantastically normal their life was today. Or...something to that effect. Tom's wish for a normal, adventureless life made his coping with the void outside even more unusual, the Doctor's interest rising.

The Doctor grinned at Tom's question, "Something of an alien. To you, not me. So, Tom; normal life, no adventure (even if adventure's good for you), low expectations. Except you think flying in a big ship and the void are a dream and you're not going mad, so..."

He tilted his head, gazing at Tom. The Doctor's smile was encouraging. No, he didn't think Tom was as set for Normal as he said. He'd met normal humans. They didn't want to leave. They didn't dream about it either. All in all, they were incredibly boring and perfectly happy being that way. Considering their relative insignificance in an almost infinite universe? Not exactly his mental picture of what a normal human did. Maybe Tom was one of those humans who thought he wanted normal. It wasn't like there weren't plenty of those along with the boringly normal ones. The Doctor cleared his throat.

"Was there something on my back?" The Doctor suddenly asked, "Not that there's anything on yours, but it can't hurt to check."

Edited 2011-01-18 09:54 (UTC)

If there was a way to appropriately distract the Doctor, it was traveling by tentacles. The Doctor found it just as squirmy as his first encounter with them, tempted to reach out and try to examine the bases. They were moving too quickly, however, and with his memory being faulty like a human's these days, he couldn't just take one quick look and get everything he needed.

He waited until they were deposited on the next level, moving automatically to straighten his bowtie.

"Where were we? Ah!" he answered his own question, "The omnicomm. More like restrictions just get in the way. Useless middleman. Not that it's a man..."

The Doctor trailed off as they started to enter the Hanger, looking around with interest.

Baby universes. Now that was incredible. The Doctor nodded, filing away that they indeed did have a name for this particular void. The Bleed. Interesting choice; not the one he would've gone for, but still. Interesting.

The Doctor stroked his chin, thoughtful, "Probably doesn't need to refuel that often then. Lucky for those baby universes." He looked up, and smiled, "Yes, right. Hi. I'm the Doctor," he held out his hand, still thinking aloud even through the introduction, "So what're those specific reasons? At a guess, I'd say those missions I was hearing about."

"Sometimes. It's more of a commodity, generally speaking," the Doctor said helpfully. He waved at the void outside, the swirls of color and nothing and nevermind the vaguely nauseous feeling he was getting. It was currently moving up from his stomach toward both his hearts. Not quite like food poisoning. More like just vaguely unpleasant but otherwise he found it tolerable. "You know, I met a friend of yours, I think. Same species, female. Her horns weren't as large as yours -- congratulations on those, by the way. Know any Kanayas?"

And that was precisely why he'd asked. Merlin was so nervous it was distracting. No wonder he couldn't hear that sound when the Doctor was convinced he should have been able to. Too busy being tense and far too nervous for his own good. The Doctor could come back to the lights later, because that nervousness was distracting for the both of them and he didn't want to have to think around Merlin being tense in the background. The Doctor bounced on the ship fat couch to get even more comfortable before folding his hands on his knee and lacing his fingers together.

"I don't know. It's distracting."

The Doctor watched Merlin. That was a fairly good babble there. Not that Merlin would win any medals for it (the Doctor had seen better babblers) but still.

"That noise. Was that you? Seemed like it didn't start until recently. It's not a bad noise," the Doctor added kindly.

Well you try continuously running into people who know all about you and your illegal magical abilities even though you've never met them before and see how nervous you are!

"I'm not making any noises!" Merlin protested, still feeling a little rattled. "Why would I be wondering around...making noises?!"

"I did? I guess." Leashing his curiosity was the simple fact that his hands were often not his own. And when they were, the voice that derided childish behavior was far stronger than most.

"Something of an alien? Well, yeah, to you I'm an alien, if you are an alien. It goes both ways. Not like saying you're from the States or anything, because no matter who you meet you will always be from the States. Alien is multi-directional, if you meet one you are one. I think, anyway, that probably didn't make any sense." The smile faded, just a little bit, quiet regret lining his face and making him look older. "Going mad wasn't an option. I had people to protect, so I had to hold it together. It's still not an option. But...yeah, I wanna go home. I'm just here to be a meat suit for someone far more useful than I am."

He blew out a breathe. "Have you ever have a nightmare? A horrible one, one you couldn't wake from, no matter how hard you fought and tangled the sheets around your legs, and all you wanted to do was scream, but you couldn't, so you had to stay in the nightmare. But in the nightmare, there was this one thing. This one amazing, wonderful, beautiful thing that filled you with such a sense of wonder that sometimes the reason you couldn't scream was because you were breathless? I wanted to go to space as a kid. But to get there, I had to go through hell first. That doesn't make it any less amazing. In fact, in some ways, it made it more. When everything is dark, the light of a single star seems awfully bright, don't you think?"

He grinned a bit ruefully, apologetic. "Well, you meet aliens all the time, don't you look for tells? The ones I've met have a bad habit of wearing others around. You can't really tell unless you see them feed, but the inclination to look is still there. Like maybe someday someone will install a neon sign or something."

Don't ask Angie how it was done. She hadn't created the Carrier, just took advantage of it being there. And she loved her ship, damn it.

She took his hand in a firm handshake. Quite firm, actually. "Yeah, pretty much. At a guess, I'd say that Stacy may take fuel from the surroundings as well. If it's not a baby universe or a white dwarf or something." Her smile widened. "Angie Spica. Sometimes known as The Engineer, though less so around here. We have a lot of engineers, after all."

The Doctor regarded Merlin with the look of someone who thought the human was missing something plainly obvious and...hadn't thought himself to spell it out for him. "Why are you so nervous about a single wall?" he fired back.

"I already checked for anything on your back, so that's one tell accounted for," the Doctor said, continuing to peer at Tom. And no, he wasn't even trying to be subtle with the staring.

Nightmares. Oh, he had plenty of those; centuries of them, in fact, and some still fresher than he would have liked. But there were plenty of amazing things, too, just like Tom said, and it surprised him how perceptive the human was (even with a name handicap like Tom; certainly wasn’t slowing him down, was it?). Except there was something else. Something aside from humans who should be Barnabas instead of Tom who were surprisingly eloquent and yet seemed to be a in hurry to get back to Earth for a boring, normal life. And something about a meat suit. Weird. Humans didn't generally make it a habit to call themselves meat suits, did they? The Doctor was more than fairly sure -- make that three quarters plus some -- sure they didn't.

Meat suit. Aliens wearing others. Human with a poor attitude (except it wasn't as poor as he'd thought), which --

He snapped his fingers as it dawned on him, everything slotting into place neatly. A mental click.

"Oh!" the Doctor blurted and he was suddenly back in Tom's face, "We've already met! Slugs? Space slugs? I promised you proper ones; actually, I was going to promise you some, I didn't get around to the actual promising bit. You're a lot more cheery in person than I thought you'd be."

Not that he missed the faint lines in his face.

Tom was young for a human, he thought, but those lines weren't from premature aging and judging from what he knew of Tom, it wasn't just from the unfortunate boring name, either. The Doctor's expression softened slightly, despite the glare from the blast shield.

Edited 2011-01-19 22:03 (UTC)

"Anything on my back?" The look on his face was one of curiosity, rather than fear. "What would be on my back? What do they do? What sort of aliens are they?"

He leaned back, a flinch reaction he couldn't hide when the other man, spark of interest fading from his eyes like a snuffed candle.

"You're the man from the comms. The one with the glow in the dark slugs who leave people with tabs. Hi." He couldn't manage guarded, it didn't sit right on his face, for so long he had been able to hide nothing, and he still didn't know how, but his face could manage defeat quiet well, sliding into the expression almost unconsciously. "Cheery? I don't think anyone has ever called me cheery."

If anything, the lines were more obvious now. Stress had made him old, and if his face settled into the patterns of a trapped animal, that was only training. His lips twitched, trying hesitantly to repay the gentle look with a smile.

"I'm not nervous about any walls!" Merlin said, feeling annoyed.

The Doctor watched him, “Good, you’re already got it with aliens, not alien. Usually the bad sort, I don’t think you’d want to meet them. Probably see a human like you as easy prey.”

Maybe that wasn’t the more reassuring thing he could’ve said.

Now Tom got it. All of it, not just the little bits. The Doctor beamed at Tom the Human as he came to the same conclusion. Right, yeah. Hi, hello, he’d ask how Tom was, but he was looking almost ill at the moment. The sort of face when someone was trying to keep on and act like everything was perfect; even had that weak smile down perfectly, the one the Doctor always thought looked queasy. Considering what he’d learned about the human’s history, the Doctor couldn’t say he blamed him. Bad first encounter with aliens. Extremely bad. Really, of all the luck he could have on this alternate Earth, he had to have colossally bad luck.

Which really made his attitude toward the void and his place in the universe stand out that much more.

“Always time for a first,” the Doctor said, eyes on his companion, “Human with a name like Tom -- you’re not letting that stop you -- on a big interdimensional ship. Sorry, interdimensional ex-prison ship. No fear of the void. Survived Yeerks. Surprisingly positive, I’d say.”

Shame he hadn’t had a different first contact. Those glow in the dark slugs would have been much less…invasiony. The tabs would’ve been horrendous and they would have probably eaten Tom out of house and home easily, but they would have repaid the favor. Helped humanity to the stars, even suffered through their baby steps. Not take Tom over like he was just another body.

Edited 2011-01-20 17:52 (UTC)

The Doctor shook her hand. That was one firm handshake. Woman had quite a grip on her, the Doctor suitably impressed with the handshake. What he liked even better was Angie Spica's name. Actually, both of them weren't that bad: Angie Spica rolled off your tongue if you said it in one go and he liked "The Engineer". Job and name, all in one.

"The Doctor," he said, shaking that hand. "Makes sense, huge ship like this. Probably needs a lot of engineers and other crew. By the way, lovely set of names you have there."

"You mentioned." Angie had no problem with that. She'd done the 'absent-minded professor' thing a few times herself. Usually not on purpose. "A pleasure to meet you, Doctor. Or, maybe, meet you again. I'm pretty sure I was working with another version of you a while back. Blond, a fondness for accessorizing with vegetables?" For all that she loved her sci-fi, Doctor Who had never been one of the big ones in the US when she was growing up.

Her grin widened as she let go of his hand. "It does. Actually, we probably need more than we have, but Stacy only wakes people up in fits and starts. And when people compliment a set of my anything, it's...not usually my names, admittedly."

"Usually?" He tilted his head. "Humans are very helpless in the grand scheme of things. Seems like everything else was born with blades or bigger teeth or a second stomach and all we have are eyes and ears and an infinite capacity to breed, which seems like we'd either end up prey or tools, no matter what came visiting. But we're clever. They all agree we're clever, for monkeys." The amusement was soft, no offense taken from the fact that in the universe his species was rather poorly suited to winning any war for galactic Independence.

He shifted uncomfortably, looking away. He wasn't sure how he felt about the look, or about anything that was being said.

"Always time....what's my name got to do with anything? I just survived. That's not in any way positive."

It didn't matter that he'd watched adults he'd known and trusted through his entire life break and shatter as the years rolled on. It didn't matter that most of the hosts that had broken had been adults, not children. All he had done was survive.

That was in no way admirable. "I've just done my best. It wasn't like I chose to do any of those things." He paused, looking back out the window, unable to hide the untarnished wonder in his eyes. "Who would be afraid of that? It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Tom here was both a pleasant surprise and a disappointment.

The Doctor frowned at the human. “And clever isn’t something to be proud of? Because of one alien species, you think that’s all you’re good for, prey or tools?” He glanced back at the void, then sidelong at Tom. “You’re right. Maybe you lot just happen to be only selectively clever. Surely that gives other species automatic rights to keep invading you.”

Right now he wasn’t interested in explaining to Tom in no uncertain terms that his name had to go. Barnabas was the way of the future…although that could be for later. Maybe. The Doctor waved his hand dismissively, not even thinking it worth his time to explain about names when Tom still seemed to be acting like there was a slug in his head. Unhealthy, that was what. Surviving in itself was plenty positive. Actually, he thought it was a fine thing to aim for. Well, that, and making it fun, entertaining, anything but boring or…well, dead. Left a lot of room there to go with. So Tom the Human seemed to be (selectively) clever, (selectively) creative with names but not with what to do with surviving, and he was stubborn about sticking with what he knew. The Doctor blew out an exasperated breath, his hair flopping back into his eyes. Really. Humans!

“You chose to keep sane and keep going,” the Doctor still gave Tom that look as if he was disappointed in him somehow. “There’s so much more out there, I know,” he nodded toward the window, “but I think somewhere here you’re missing something obvious, which is rather surprising considering how perceptive you are.”

The Doctor regarded him, mouth pursed, as if daring him to make him spell it out. No, he expected Tom to figure it out on his own and he was willing to leave him to his own devices. Clever boy like that, he should get it in the end.

"Uh. Thanks..." Tavros's eyes flick briefly up and to the side as he's congratulated on his horns. Really, they're more of a hindrance than anything. Catching on doorframes, keeping him from climbing into his recuperacoon back home for some shuteye, it's kind of embarrassing.

But he smiles a little at the question. "Yeah, uh, she and I have been friends for awhile now. She's been, a little quiet lately, at least to me. I guess maybe, um, the ship, doesn't really agree with her."

"Not what I meant, at least, I don’t think that’s what I meant." And if anything, his smile widened, knowing the game now, even if it was strange to play it face to face rather than in the inside of his own skull. "Yeerks are pretty sure they're the smartest things in the universe, but they can't dream, not really, not like we do. And as good as they are at pretending to be other creatures, they can't create. Everything they have is a subversion of a preexisting design. Weapons, ships, everything. They hate it, but they're not clever. They're just smart. Humans can take isolated events and form a pattern and notice things. Iniss liked it. Used to hone it, make sure he kept me sharp. It was like having two sets of eyes, he said, one that saw what was, and one that saw what might be. Potential. I liked that game.” He could remember reading War of the Worlds. He’d liked it, Iniss had hated it. The argument over how likely it was had continued for weeks. That humans could defeat aliens with something as simple as a virus, that Earth could fight back against an invader. But he could remember feeling the fear when Iniss let the barrier between them slip. He was almost certain that was part of why they’d done the invasion they way they had. The feared human creativity, the human ability to come up with the not so obvious solution, the human ability to leave the box behind completely and come up with something completely new. What they feared the most was the moment humanity realized their visitors from the stars were there and turned their attention to ridding themselves of it. Human minds working together were a very dangerous thing, after all. Infest enough of those minds, and it was no longer a problem. They didn’t like to think about what might happen if they failed. He laughed softly, face twisting in an ironic smile. "Clever or not, I still would have liked a set of claws, maybe some sharp teeth. Everything looks more intimidating than we do. Even the vegetarians."

The truth was very simple, when Tom was fourteen his brain had been invaded by a sadist who mocked every hope and dream he could have hoped to have, taken apart his every shame, every nightmare he'd ever had and forced him to relive them until all he could do was scream in the back of his mind. 'No' and 'don't' had long ago ceased to have meaning. Even now, part of him was expecting someone to walk up and demand he take the Yeerk back. He'd been free on this ship twice before, and twice before people had asked him to take the Yeerk back. Even when people knew, they still wanted Iniss.

He was still just a body, in his own mind, waiting for its master to return.

"That wasn't a choice either." His voice was soft, lip caught between his teeth. "My brother. My parents. I had a deal with Iniss, so long as I didn't make trouble for him, he wouldn't infest them. But I couldn't break, if I did, if I became one of the crazy ones, it would put them at risk. I couldn't allow that." He sighed, wanting to go back to the view, and thinking about everything and nothing. "I don't know what you think I'm missing, guess I missed that day at school."

"Iniss? Name of your slug, is it?" The Doctor was still frowning at Tom. "And you’re still trying to uphold this bargain you have with Iniss, yeah?”

He didn’t say anything at first, simply taking it in and giving Tom a bit of time to enjoy his view of the void beyond the blast shields. It sounded…complicated with this parasite. Well. Complicated was an understatement, not that understatement didn’t have its place. Form a pattern with creativity. Yeah, that sounded about right for humanity, even if they got it wrong as often as they got it right: creating patterns sometimes when there weren’t any or even changing perfectly good ones into plain wrong ones. But they always bounced back and that…that was what the Doctor also loved about their species. They didn’t need claws or sharp teeth. At least, the Doctor didn’t think so. Not that humans wouldn’t try those on for size in the future.

His future. He wasn’t so sure about Tom’s.

The Doctor leaned up against the side of the blast shield, taking those two seconds to make sure he wasn’t going to hit any fleshy switches with his elbow. “What I think is that’s less of a deal and more general, old fashioned threatening. Maybe you did miss that day at school. But you’re Yeerk-free right now. Time to catch up.”

Still, coated threats or not, the Doctor was still interested in a chat with their missing slug. He was inclined to trust Tom the Human here, but he did also want Iniss’s side of the story. Considering Earth’s INVADE ME signs they were practically broadcasting, he did believe there was an alien invasion. Earth was simply too tempting of a target.

Edited 2011-01-24 07:26 (UTC)

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Page 3 of 4

Reflection [Open]

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Should we do a new Hanger post for this?

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