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.
no subject
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.