The Eleventh Doctor || Doctor Who (
makeherblue) wrote in
trans_92011-01-15 01:09 am
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Entry tags:
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]
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]
no subject
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."
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
He looked back at the Doctor, grimacing faintly, lips still twisted in a smile. "There's a difference? He kept the deal, or whatever it was. I'm not. That makes me less honest than Parasitic brain slugs from space." He pressed his hands against the window, bowing his head and looking away.
Like a believer come to confession, right? Being free meant he alone was responsible for his choices, for what happened. Things could go wrong and there was no one to blame but himself. Things could go right, and there was no one to interfere if he wanted to indulge in them.
Was that selfish? To want that. Even if he failed, he wanted to try. He had the chance to try, if he didn't give it back.
For once, since this entire stupid thing had started, he just wanted to live. "I'm selfish."
no subject
Surprising one, though. So this brother knew too. Odd thing to do, have the brother make a decision like that for Tom. The Doctor stood by, watching Tom’s face in the light from the void outside.
“Not much of a deal to keep, I’d say,” the Doctor said quietly. Seemed like Tom was still determined to be selectively clever; not that the Doctor could blame him. Human, right. Yeah. Usually a trait of the species, for everything else that was beautiful about them. “What else could you say, ‘sure, infect my family and then infect me while you’re at it’? If everyone had your attitude, they wouldn’t have needed to invade quietly.”
All they had to do was just walk right in -- not that a space slug could walk -– and make a few threats. Watch humanity throw themselves at their nonexistent feet. Maybe there were some species out there that were like that, but he’d expected better from humans.
no subject
He swallowed, turning and smiling, though it looked more like he was trying not to be sick. "Jake made a deal. At the end of six months, Iniss moves out. I-he-there was this girl-she-they...were...are...friends." He swallowed, feeling like his mouth was full of glass, hardly able to force the words out. "She wanted to protect him. It didn't seem like a big deal. I should keep it. It's just a little longer, right? Then I can come back to my friends."
He should keep Jake's deal, and Dani's deal, and everything that came between. Not run off and be reckless and stupid and selfish.