If anything had been wrong, if anything was still wrong, she didn't show it now. She hadn't broken any parts of the Doctor's ship in her anger. Hadn't taken out her frustration with this new failure on anything visible.
In the overall scheme of things, Cordelia Chase Bloom had only mattered as a symbol. A gift she'd wanted to give, not because the recipient particularly deserved it, but because she'd wished it. She didn't wish to contemplate the reasons why at present. She'd done enough looking inward, and it was time to look outward again.
Impassive as always, she stepped out into the console room and looked at the Doctor with blue eyes that revealed nothing at all.
Groceries to the side of the console, chips---only partially eaten, they weren't as good as he'd remembered them---to the wastebasket. He glanced up, giving her a slight smile, "All right, we're off, then."
He flipped a few switches, setting the pre-programmed route in motion. He'd had it programmed in the console for years, just...never managed to go there. Not in a long, long time.
Illyria blinked at him as though she had heard but not quite understood the question.
"I wouldn't know. Human emotions are a tangled mess that I no longer attempt to decipher. The news did not seem to affect him in the same manner as the initial death had."
And that is as far as she'd like to explore that topic. She turned her attention to the discarded chips - which her own memories insisted on amending to fries. Whatever they were called, she retrieved the box from the wastebasket and held them up with a reproachful look.
"Oh, he's just moved on into acceptance," the Doctor rattled off as he worked on the console, "They all think they grieve differently, but it's the same. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression...eventually they battle that darkness and move on."
They were lucky, in that way. Not all species grieved like that.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, "Do you want them? You can have them. They've got vinegar, though."
Comments 27
In the overall scheme of things, Cordelia Chase Bloom had only mattered as a symbol. A gift she'd wanted to give, not because the recipient particularly deserved it, but because she'd wished it. She didn't wish to contemplate the reasons why at present. She'd done enough looking inward, and it was time to look outward again.
Impassive as always, she stepped out into the console room and looked at the Doctor with blue eyes that revealed nothing at all.
"I am here."
Reply
He flipped a few switches, setting the pre-programmed route in motion. He'd had it programmed in the console for years, just...never managed to go there. Not in a long, long time.
"How did he take it?" he asked, quietly.
Reply
"I wouldn't know. Human emotions are a tangled mess that I no longer attempt to decipher. The news did not seem to affect him in the same manner as the initial death had."
And that is as far as she'd like to explore that topic. She turned her attention to the discarded chips - which her own memories insisted on amending to fries. Whatever they were called, she retrieved the box from the wastebasket and held them up with a reproachful look.
"Wastefulness is not a trait that suits you."
Reply
They were lucky, in that way. Not all species grieved like that.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, "Do you want them? You can have them. They've got vinegar, though."
Reply
Leave a comment