kore_logs | a tisket, a tasket, an angel with a basket?

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a tisket, a tasket, an angel with a basket?

Who: Balthazar, Mina and open!
Where: the library and the outskirts of town
When: Day 109, around nightfall
Summary: Balthazar's promised to try and teach Mina about angelic healing powers, because that can't possibly go wrong. He can also be found inspecting various edible weeds growing around the town and forest eaves.

On the one hand, Balthazar is as content in Kore as he has been in thousands of years. No wars, no bewildering orders from on high, no siblings murdering one another, and on top of that he has both mortal friends and archangels being relatively sociable. If it weren't for the looming fear of things taking a turn for the lethal, he'd be downright ecstatic to be here.

But the food situation is worrisome, and the monster situation is worse. He finds himself racking his brain to think of ways to keep the status as quo as possible. It's not his job, of course. He never signed on to play shepherd to a motley crew of humans and others, and most of them probably wouldn't thank him for worrying about them anyway. Maybe if there was enough alcohol available to actually keep him drunk, he wouldn't bother. Maybe he's trying to keep himself from fretting over how quickly and easily the people he cares about can be taken away.

Times like this, he misses Anna.

And so, he finds himself, circling the outskirts of the town and plucking what plants he can find out of the shadows of buildings as the sun sets behind him.

When it's finally fully dark, he crosses back over to the library, leaving his basket just outside the door. If anyone helps themselves to the plants, that's fine with him. He's not going to eat them, anyway.

He doesn't bother with a light once inside, sitting on a desk to wait for Mina. He can see well enough in the blackness, and presumably so can she.

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"But you see, I'm clever, very very clever, and this has been the first mystery to really stump me. It's driving me mad."

His teeth are gritted, but he finally forces his jaws to relax and calm down. Glancing over to the cooking vegetables, he does, forcing his shoulders back.

Balthazar opens his mouth, with the intention of explaining to the Doctor that there are a lot of clever people here, that he's already bitten off more than he can chew, evidently--but then he looks at him, really looks, and decides that's not what the man needs to hear just now. He's quiet for a moment, stir-frying the greens, then says slowly, "Well, my brothers are a few trillion years old, and watched the universe being born, and they're stuck, too. I don't think power or intelligence is the way to get us out of here. There's plenty of that lying around the Cape to spare."

Looking up again, he adds, "But you're saying you feel trapped. That's what's got you on edge. Isn't it?"

The Doctor had been running nonstop his entire life. It was here, being forced to be domestic and unable to successfully troubleshoot this place that's made him stop. It was infuriating, to say the least.

He remains stoic, leaning against that counter looking lost in his own world when he finally glanced over, "I think they're done?" He didn't want things to be too burnt and managed to find a couple mis-matched dishes for the two of them.

"Thanks." Ok, so no completely rude afterall. "Donna always said I'd wither away."

Balthazar sighs softly, but he's got the distinct impression that pushing a sensitive topic isn't the way to go here. He nods gamely and dishes out the cooked greens. Most are for the Doctor; he keeps a only few bites for himself, just to taste test.

"You won't wither away. But you desperately need diversion. That happens with genius intelligences sometimes, I hear. You just...devour all the information around you."

There's wicked grin overcoming his face, "And what little birdy told you that?"

With Balthazar turned, the Doctor added a scoop of extra greens on his plate, evening it out. "You eat, yeah? You angel lot? I'm not quite versed in what is kosher for you." Or really about them at all.

And with that he took a bite on his own plate, shrugged, and continued eating, "Not bad!"

"I'm no more human than you are. I've seen it happen."

He blinks at the extra greens, then gives an awkward shrug. "I can eat, but I don't require it. I taste my own cooking to make sure I'm not about to give anyone indigestion, but I'm trying not to take nutrients out of anyone else's mouth."

He's unwilling to make a big deal out of it, either, though, so he takes a cautious bite of greens, as well. "Hmm. Needs a sprinkle of parmesan. Could be worse, though."

"Could be, yes. But it'll never match up to chips, I'm afraid." It must've been Rose's love of them that rubbed off on him. He never had food cravings other than for sweets - most namely jelly babies - but chips were something he did admit to missing.

"And sleep? Do you need it too?" The Doctor was ever curious, wondering how close they were biologically. "Do all of you have similar capabilities? Looking through one's mind, being an example?"

"I could try frying up cattails. They're not the same, but they're starchier than this." Balthazar may just be having fun experimenting with plants based on his brother's teachings. If there were a steady supply of butchered meat and potatoes, he probably wouldn't be cooking this much.

"No, I don't need sleep, but I've found this place sometimes pushes me under somehow. Ever since the dream sharing." Shrug. He takes another bite of greens, then adds: "I'm one of the youngest of my kind here. The older ones are more powerful. But there are abilities we all share, yes."

The Doctor nods at Balthazar's words. "Interesting enough, I don't think we're very different." The Doctor clears his plate and places it in the sink - how very domestic of him!

"You ought to teach Donna some of these recipes. I think she'd be delighted to learn... When we traveled together, she made some of the best sweets one could imagine." Lucky for him, his metabolism was ridiculously quick and weight gain was never a risk.

"Our modes of operating may not be," he concedes. "Or our intellectual capacities. But don't be too quick to draw conclusions about angels. This isn't even my true body. I can't walk on the surface of my own planet without a vessel to keep me from burning the eyes out of every living thing I run into. And I'm a baby compared to Raphael."

He tastes the greens again, wondering idly if parmesan would help the flavor. "Not that I'm trying to impress you or anything. I suppose to any species other than humans, I'm just another alien."

At the mention of Donna, he breaks into a grin. "Does she cook? I had no idea. She's always feeding me tea and cookies, though. I should have realized."

The Doctor shakes his head, "It doesn't surprise me. I've met devils, or those who claim they were, who possessed others partly, I imagine, for that very reason. Had a nasty confrontation with 'em." He remembered being sent down into the the pit on the asteroid all too well.

Brightening up at Donna's question, "Oh that's all hers! She's brilliant! I think she fancies you, really." He probably wasn't suppose to say that, but cultural norms were still a foreign concept to him.

"Devils or demons? There's a difference." Balthazar chuckles faintly. "But be careful saying that sort of thing in front of my brothers. They might get offended."

He's more easygoing, himself.

He laughs at the mention of Donna fancying him, soft and sheepish and mildly pleased. "She's a gem. She really is, and she has no idea how much so. I'm afraid I'll disappoint her before too long, but I admit I'm growing fond."

Donna is so human. She exemplifies all the qualities Balthazar likes in humanity, to be more exact.

"This last one was the devil - well - he more or less claimed to be the devil. He was sealed in a pit, he claimed, before the universe began... He wasn't quite terrifying in his chains and locks." The Doctor at least didn't acted phased one bit with him.

The Doctor wasn't a fan of religion, but kept that to himself.

"Ahhh! See!? She is!?" He nudges her as he places his empty plate in the sink, "Don't disappoint her."

"Hm. That doesn't match with the Lucifer I know. But we're from different worlds, I suppose." He eyes the Doctor skeptically, because people should be wary of Lucifer, if not terrified.

Donna's more fun to talk about, though, even with Balthazar's feeling of subtle uncertainty. He shakes his head. "I am who and what I am, and I have no idea whether affection between a human and an angel is sustainable in any fashion. But you can rest assured I'll do my best to look after her while she's here, and while I'm here."

He smiles gently and nods, "Good. 's all very good, really. She deserves to be happy as well as you do or anyone else here." He knew Donna fancied him, and if he was kind and looking out for her, then he was completely and totally fine with it.

"If you need anything from me, let me know, yeah?" He promised to not be manic all the time.

"None of us get what we deserve, love," he chuckles softly, an undertone of bitterness. But it's not directed at the Doctor, or Donna, or even Kore. "In some cases, that's a good thing, actually, but I do take your meaning. Thank you."

His eyes twinkle. "So shall I tell her her chaperone approves, or will that just end with her smacking both of us?"

He bobs his head from side to side, "Ehhh, probably a good wallop would come, but not before her turning a bit red in the face."

He knew from experience with traveling with her. She typically shut him down before any other compliments could be uttered, only concerning her self esteem.

"I wish she didn't underestimate her own worth so. But I doubt there's much of anything I can do."

He's finished his share of greens now and goes to wash the plate and fork in the sink.

The Doctor is cleaning up his plate, doing his best to not look a slob.

"It'll work out. She likes taking care of others. Really she's brilliant like that and in making sure you're well. I've needed her plenty of times and more than I care to admit. "

"I probably shouldn't enjoy that as much as I do." He shakes his head and dries his hands on the nearest dishtowel, backing away to give the Doctor space to work.

"Well. Ought I to plan to bring you vegetables again some time?"

"You're welcome any time, any when!" The Doctor replies with great enthusiasm, pleased that this conversation went well for various reasons.

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