#437 & #438
23 February 2013 04:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
swordznsorcery posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
dw100Titles: "Weather" & "Invitation"
Word Count: 100 x 2
Rating: U
Warnings: None
Exposed to the weather, it stood forgotten in a corner of one of the darker recesses of London. A ragged layer of lichen clung to its dented head, and the frequent rain cascaded down its sides, into puddles filled with jagged echoes of its battered casing, its cracked hemispheres, its slumped and motionless sucker arm. Around it, life in London crept back towards normal, the people rediscovering hope, blind to the lone Dalek stranded amongst them. Forced to recover its strength, it left them in peace. There was no rush. Camouflaged perfectly, and endlessly patient, it plotted their certain defeat.
In every conceivable direction, the signal blared its invitation. Day after day, year after year, the last remaining member of the Dalek invasion fleet hid in its damp, forgotten courtyard, and called for assistance. The Earth was in ruins, weakened and defenceless. A minimal force would crush it completely. Slowly, gradually, the responses began to filter back. From throughout time and space the Daleks gathered, ready to claim their prize; and Earth's lone hope against them was one young, exiled Time Lady, and one decidedly not young, renegade Time Agent. The outcome was inevitable.
The Daleks didn't stand a chance.
Word Count: 100 x 2
Rating: U
Warnings: None
Exposed to the weather, it stood forgotten in a corner of one of the darker recesses of London. A ragged layer of lichen clung to its dented head, and the frequent rain cascaded down its sides, into puddles filled with jagged echoes of its battered casing, its cracked hemispheres, its slumped and motionless sucker arm. Around it, life in London crept back towards normal, the people rediscovering hope, blind to the lone Dalek stranded amongst them. Forced to recover its strength, it left them in peace. There was no rush. Camouflaged perfectly, and endlessly patient, it plotted their certain defeat.
In every conceivable direction, the signal blared its invitation. Day after day, year after year, the last remaining member of the Dalek invasion fleet hid in its damp, forgotten courtyard, and called for assistance. The Earth was in ruins, weakened and defenceless. A minimal force would crush it completely. Slowly, gradually, the responses began to filter back. From throughout time and space the Daleks gathered, ready to claim their prize; and Earth's lone hope against them was one young, exiled Time Lady, and one decidedly not young, renegade Time Agent. The outcome was inevitable.
The Daleks didn't stand a chance.
