for oncoming_storms: 68.3. Your character comes across something non-human
Today I met a Dalek.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and I didn’t even know Daleks knew how to do that. The sound was terrifying when it was meant to convey something close to amusement. Or perhaps it was meant to be terrifying, just not for the obvious reasons, not for any reason I would identify as Dalek anyway. The laugh sounded a lot like the laugh of someone I used to know, or someone I used to be might be the better phrasing. It sounded like a bloke who wore a leather jacket and had big ears and an even bigger northern accent.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and he said he smelled something Gallifreyan of me, and something else entirely. I told him that he was full of surprises. I didn’t know Daleks could laugh, let alone smell. I didn’t know Daleks were capable of emotion, hidden under that armor, unable to feel or touch or know anything.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and he had a sense of smell and he told me a story. I didn’t know they could tell stories. I didn’t know I could be so carefree and whimsical when I was terrified beyond belief. I sat because I didn’t have much of a choice. I sat and I listened and he even had a companion. She appeared to hail from the Forest of the Cheem. She looked at me with a mixture of disgust and interest. Her presence couldn’t help but set off more alarms in my mind. Daleks weren’t meant to have companions, friendship was foreign, especially with something that wasn’t Daleks.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and he had a sense of smell and he had a companion and he wanted to tell me a story. It was the story of the last great Time War. He was the last of his kind. His race went to war with a monstrous race known as the Time Lords. Masters of time, they enjoyed hopping through time and space and realities for their own amusement, their own gain, their own whims or fancies or opportunistic goals. They frowned upon lesser species. They took worlds and species out of existence if it got in the way of their aims. They needed to be stopped. For the good of the universe. This lone Dalek, the last of his kind had to wipe out his own people along with the Time Lords to secure the universe.
Today I met a Dalek and he was the hero and I was the enemy. I met a Dalek and he was the last of his kind. His actions served a greater purpose, to secure the universe and make sure it was safe from the scourge of the Time Lords. None of his kind were left, but none of the Time Lords were left either.
Until now.
Today I met a Dalek and his voice was too soft and too lyrical and it lacked the hard and monotonous tones that belong underneath that metal cage he calls a body. I met a Dalek and all I could feel was pity, to have such emotions and be stuck inside that cage. Never touching, never feeling. Hideous and deformed and doomed.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and he told me that I would die. I told him I was sorry for his loss. He stopped where he was, and he told me Time Lords don’t know pity. I told him I had a story of my own. I told him a story of a great Time War. I told him, and his companion said I lied. I told him, and maybe it was a wavering in my voice or a look or a sigh. Maybe it was that smell of something else that wasn’t entirely Gallifreyan. I really don’t know, but I told him my story and he believed me.
Today I met a Dalek and he told me he was sorry for my loss.
Today I met a Dalek and I hope I never meet another as long as I live.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and I didn’t even know Daleks knew how to do that. The sound was terrifying when it was meant to convey something close to amusement. Or perhaps it was meant to be terrifying, just not for the obvious reasons, not for any reason I would identify as Dalek anyway. The laugh sounded a lot like the laugh of someone I used to know, or someone I used to be might be the better phrasing. It sounded like a bloke who wore a leather jacket and had big ears and an even bigger northern accent.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and he said he smelled something Gallifreyan of me, and something else entirely. I told him that he was full of surprises. I didn’t know Daleks could laugh, let alone smell. I didn’t know Daleks were capable of emotion, hidden under that armor, unable to feel or touch or know anything.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and he had a sense of smell and he told me a story. I didn’t know they could tell stories. I didn’t know I could be so carefree and whimsical when I was terrified beyond belief. I sat because I didn’t have much of a choice. I sat and I listened and he even had a companion. She appeared to hail from the Forest of the Cheem. She looked at me with a mixture of disgust and interest. Her presence couldn’t help but set off more alarms in my mind. Daleks weren’t meant to have companions, friendship was foreign, especially with something that wasn’t Daleks.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and he had a sense of smell and he had a companion and he wanted to tell me a story. It was the story of the last great Time War. He was the last of his kind. His race went to war with a monstrous race known as the Time Lords. Masters of time, they enjoyed hopping through time and space and realities for their own amusement, their own gain, their own whims or fancies or opportunistic goals. They frowned upon lesser species. They took worlds and species out of existence if it got in the way of their aims. They needed to be stopped. For the good of the universe. This lone Dalek, the last of his kind had to wipe out his own people along with the Time Lords to secure the universe.
Today I met a Dalek and he was the hero and I was the enemy. I met a Dalek and he was the last of his kind. His actions served a greater purpose, to secure the universe and make sure it was safe from the scourge of the Time Lords. None of his kind were left, but none of the Time Lords were left either.
Until now.
Today I met a Dalek and his voice was too soft and too lyrical and it lacked the hard and monotonous tones that belong underneath that metal cage he calls a body. I met a Dalek and all I could feel was pity, to have such emotions and be stuck inside that cage. Never touching, never feeling. Hideous and deformed and doomed.
Today I met a Dalek and he laughed and he told me that I would die. I told him I was sorry for his loss. He stopped where he was, and he told me Time Lords don’t know pity. I told him I had a story of my own. I told him a story of a great Time War. I told him, and his companion said I lied. I told him, and maybe it was a wavering in my voice or a look or a sigh. Maybe it was that smell of something else that wasn’t entirely Gallifreyan. I really don’t know, but I told him my story and he believed me.
Today I met a Dalek and he told me he was sorry for my loss.
Today I met a Dalek and I hope I never meet another as long as I live.