I havn't seen Earthshock in.. oh...more than a decade. So this is just going off my memory and misc. knowledge from the books I have (sadly only Adric episodes Full Circle - Logopolis since I'm an avid Tom Baker fan) I'll most likely rewrite and/or add to this when I finaly get to rewatch or perhaps/hopefully read the rest of the Adric episodes with Peter Davidson.
I don't own Doctor Who. If I did, I wouldn't have let Adric's character fall short becuase of inconsistancies in the writting. ::shrug:: Then again, no one's perfect.
***
Doctor Who
& The Silent Eulogy
By Niko
I've heard many people speak of the horrors of burring their children. You are supposed to outlive those younger than you, a simple and mathematically speaking factually assumption. As a Time Lord perhaps I forget how fleeting existence is to others. All the same, even by normal standards, it was too soon. He was still a child, full of insecurities and youthful curiosity. Full of youthful arrogance as well but no one's perfect. I sometimes think he tried to be though. He didn't like being wrong and I for one can't blame him. I did though, if only for the sake of not having to blame myself. Too quick to assume it was something he had done or something he hadn't. Something I haven't grown out of in all of my lives. He just wanted me to be proud of him. I know that. More now than I did at the time though I won't claim complete ignorance. How could I not see the longing in his eyes to be accepted? Any praise made his face light up like a sun just as my rebuttals left him looking as though his wicket had been taken. No, I knew what he wanted from me.
But did he know what I wanted form him?
He had great potential not only in his mathematical capabilities which he proudly boasted of vocally and non with his bright blue star pined to him at all times. He was never too quick to believe everything he'd been told and possessed a continual curiosity if not stubbornness for needing to know all the answers. He reminded me of myself, really. A bit green around the collar but weren't we all?
Wasn't I?
Sometimes I find it hard to remember back so far a time when I didn't believe I had all the answers at my disposal. I'm not omniscient nor infallible which I've come to learn time and time again. And I thought, hoped, he would grow to find that true. Perhaps that was my problem. In order to keep faith in abilities with my companions, I made myself out to be more than I can hope to be. "It'll be alright. The Doctor's here" I've heard said a hundred of times in a hundred different ways. I wanted them to think I could do anything. I never wanted them to fear that perhaps I couldn't help them.
But I couldn't this time. That mist of invincibility has been twice removed from the eyes of my remaining companions, first with my death and now with his. Only I could regenerate, begin almost anew. He is gone forever. And with all my powers as a Time Lord, all the technology given me and all the reason in the world to use it, I can not go back and save him. And why? With time and space at my beckon call, why; they ask me again and again like the echo of my own grieving heart; why can't I go back and save him?
The Cybermen contested that emotions were a weakness but I find myself torn now with quite the opposite. If it weren't for rational thinking, I'd be back on the freighter dragging him into the TARDIS if needed be. They looked at me like I was heartless though as I refused their pleas to save him. I don't expect them to understand active chronon flux or undisturbed readings from a chronon emitter. But they want to know why. They deserve to know why, I suppose.
So much to explain, so little time. Littler still than I can imagine. Who knows how long I have left to be in their company or how they will leave me in their time. I hope it is with a cheerful sigh rather than a violent bang as in this case. Still, I'd like to think his life wasn't wasted. His death will bring about the further development of the Earth. Because of this, even my own life is affected at the molecular level. He always wanted me to be proud of him.
And I am.
Not for this act alone nor this act at all. I'd be just as proud if he'd stayed on that shuttle and survived. No, I will remember him fondly as a son I never had and continue to be proud of who he was regardless of what he did.
In a way, I suppose all my companions are like my children. I bring them into a world so unlike the one they know and unavoidably run them through trials and terrors inexplicable and unavoidable only to have them leave me in the end to strike out on their own, enlightened and independent. And no parent should have to burry their children.
I will miss you, Adric.
I don't own Doctor Who. If I did, I wouldn't have let Adric's character fall short becuase of inconsistancies in the writting. ::shrug:: Then again, no one's perfect.
***
Doctor Who
& The Silent Eulogy
By Niko
I've heard many people speak of the horrors of burring their children. You are supposed to outlive those younger than you, a simple and mathematically speaking factually assumption. As a Time Lord perhaps I forget how fleeting existence is to others. All the same, even by normal standards, it was too soon. He was still a child, full of insecurities and youthful curiosity. Full of youthful arrogance as well but no one's perfect. I sometimes think he tried to be though. He didn't like being wrong and I for one can't blame him. I did though, if only for the sake of not having to blame myself. Too quick to assume it was something he had done or something he hadn't. Something I haven't grown out of in all of my lives. He just wanted me to be proud of him. I know that. More now than I did at the time though I won't claim complete ignorance. How could I not see the longing in his eyes to be accepted? Any praise made his face light up like a sun just as my rebuttals left him looking as though his wicket had been taken. No, I knew what he wanted from me.
But did he know what I wanted form him?
He had great potential not only in his mathematical capabilities which he proudly boasted of vocally and non with his bright blue star pined to him at all times. He was never too quick to believe everything he'd been told and possessed a continual curiosity if not stubbornness for needing to know all the answers. He reminded me of myself, really. A bit green around the collar but weren't we all?
Wasn't I?
Sometimes I find it hard to remember back so far a time when I didn't believe I had all the answers at my disposal. I'm not omniscient nor infallible which I've come to learn time and time again. And I thought, hoped, he would grow to find that true. Perhaps that was my problem. In order to keep faith in abilities with my companions, I made myself out to be more than I can hope to be. "It'll be alright. The Doctor's here" I've heard said a hundred of times in a hundred different ways. I wanted them to think I could do anything. I never wanted them to fear that perhaps I couldn't help them.
But I couldn't this time. That mist of invincibility has been twice removed from the eyes of my remaining companions, first with my death and now with his. Only I could regenerate, begin almost anew. He is gone forever. And with all my powers as a Time Lord, all the technology given me and all the reason in the world to use it, I can not go back and save him. And why? With time and space at my beckon call, why; they ask me again and again like the echo of my own grieving heart; why can't I go back and save him?
The Cybermen contested that emotions were a weakness but I find myself torn now with quite the opposite. If it weren't for rational thinking, I'd be back on the freighter dragging him into the TARDIS if needed be. They looked at me like I was heartless though as I refused their pleas to save him. I don't expect them to understand active chronon flux or undisturbed readings from a chronon emitter. But they want to know why. They deserve to know why, I suppose.
So much to explain, so little time. Littler still than I can imagine. Who knows how long I have left to be in their company or how they will leave me in their time. I hope it is with a cheerful sigh rather than a violent bang as in this case. Still, I'd like to think his life wasn't wasted. His death will bring about the further development of the Earth. Because of this, even my own life is affected at the molecular level. He always wanted me to be proud of him.
And I am.
Not for this act alone nor this act at all. I'd be just as proud if he'd stayed on that shuttle and survived. No, I will remember him fondly as a son I never had and continue to be proud of who he was regardless of what he did.
In a way, I suppose all my companions are like my children. I bring them into a world so unlike the one they know and unavoidably run them through trials and terrors inexplicable and unavoidable only to have them leave me in the end to strike out on their own, enlightened and independent. And no parent should have to burry their children.
I will miss you, Adric.