the sun and the moon and the stars (for Jane)

[sortofaman]

Night time, in an island October, and the Doctor was up on the roof of the compound, gazing up at the sky.

In perfect honesty, he usually tried not to look at the stars much, anymore. The restlessness that ensued wasn't pleasant for anyone, while it lasted, and he preferred to keep the peace when possible. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make, most of the time.

But he'd assigned his students reading and viewing about the moon landing (not faked, for fuck's sake, though what they'd found had been glossed over for the public), and had them do some impromptu writing about what they thought people at the time felt about space exploration--imagining that no one else from their world had been up there and now people had gone so far.

It was only fair to have a good look himself, even if he'd need a beer in the Hub before going home. He sat and dangled his legs over the edge of the building, arms bracing himself, and looked up, really looked up.

For a minute, he smiled.

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[sortofaman.livejournal.com]

"I've never been one for the whole 'power of positive thinking' bollocks, but I've found that things have been a lot easier when I don't think of it as trapped. Stuck, perhaps, but trapped...trapped implies being an animal, being caged. Stuck allows for experimentation and analysis. Semantics, yeah, but sometimes that's the sort of thing that helps keep you focused." The Doctor smiled with half his face, a quirk that admitted to the potential futility therein. "Or maybe I've just decided that to win the island game, I had to intentionally lose; take all I can, give nothing back, so to speak.

"But, bringing it back to the big picture, humanity needs people like you," he continued. "Because otherwise no one ends up looking outwards, and everything is stagnant. I know it sounds like a cliche, but without theories or dreams, how does anyone proceed?"