DOCTOR WHO/HIS DARK MATERIALS: Fairytale Monsters
Title: Fairytale Monsters
Characters/Pairing: The Doctor, mention of the Master and the Toclafane
Word Count: 160
Rating: PG
Summary: In which the Doctor realizes what the Toclafane are, and can't help but pity them.
Notes: Written for daemonmuses for the prompt "shapes you've seen other people's daemons take". I make no excuses.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who, the Doctor, the Master, the Toclaphane, etc. belong to the BBC. I just like to play with them.
You wouldn't think Toclafane have daemons. Daleks don't. Cybermen don't. That makes it easy.
But Toclafane... You see, that's the problem. At first glance, they don't have daemons. Of course they don't. They're just metal spheres with metallic voices and knives and lasers... and then you look closer. I had time to look, after all. They're just shapes in the air, barely there, but you watch long enough, and you learn.
A Toclafane's daemon is like a child's. It shifts. It flies. It's like a ghost of a daemon, almost transparent, right on the edge of flickering out, and it's sick and wrong and it has a high, cruel laugh like a child's.
You spend a year on the Valiant with the Master, and you notice. You learn. You understand what they are. And then you pity them, because they are just children, there at the end of the universe now, screaming into the dark.
Or maybe that's just me.
Characters/Pairing: The Doctor, mention of the Master and the Toclafane
Word Count: 160
Rating: PG
Summary: In which the Doctor realizes what the Toclafane are, and can't help but pity them.
Notes: Written for daemonmuses for the prompt "shapes you've seen other people's daemons take". I make no excuses.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who, the Doctor, the Master, the Toclaphane, etc. belong to the BBC. I just like to play with them.
You wouldn't think Toclafane have daemons. Daleks don't. Cybermen don't. That makes it easy.
But Toclafane... You see, that's the problem. At first glance, they don't have daemons. Of course they don't. They're just metal spheres with metallic voices and knives and lasers... and then you look closer. I had time to look, after all. They're just shapes in the air, barely there, but you watch long enough, and you learn.
A Toclafane's daemon is like a child's. It shifts. It flies. It's like a ghost of a daemon, almost transparent, right on the edge of flickering out, and it's sick and wrong and it has a high, cruel laugh like a child's.
You spend a year on the Valiant with the Master, and you notice. You learn. You understand what they are. And then you pity them, because they are just children, there at the end of the universe now, screaming into the dark.
Or maybe that's just me.