![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beccaelizabethToday I had another Dalek nightmare, which I call unfair, since usually I only gets them after watching Dalek episodes but this time I was only downloading one. Sulk. No fair.
So, there was lots of running around. And hiding. And finding various bits of the resistance forces. Including Chewtoy (a guy from conventions who wears costumes) for no readily apparent reason (except for, if Daleks invaded earth, convention people would probably have the least difficulty adjusting. And the most ideas what to do about it). Most of the resistance people had brightly colored highlights and a general matrix/punk kind of look going on, which seems sort of high maintenance for a sort of post apocalypse Dalek fascist police state place, not to mention the way making yourself so visually distinctive even a Dalek can see you seems unwise in a target sort of way.
I was, as per usual, my asleep Mary Sue self, with all kinds of nifty magic powers. Like the telekinesis, and a sort of precognition (more like I'd watched the episodes before than I could predict what would happen if I did something). And, crucially, I could receive Dalek signals, and send them over short range. So we ambushed a Dalek, cut it off from the general Dalek communications net, and fiddled with signals until we found a shutdown code. Or possibly a sequence of commands it would find so inherently contradictory it blew itself up.
There were a lot of Daleks around. Every model we've ever seen, except the dumb Emperor ones. I mean they might have been somewhere but they weren't where I could see. All the other sorts were flying around and looking in windows. Including the heavy weapons Dalek. Which is really not funny to see from the end where you're about to go kaboom. And some of the other Daleks shoot gas. But with my awesoome powers, I huff and puff and blow it all away, so we don't get killed.
Got to love those powers.
So, a Dalek comes up under the window, and we can see the ears before it can see us, so we dive down and try to hide under the windowsill. But it can see us anyway, probably with infrared, or possibly just by sticking its eyestalk through the window. We couldn't just grab it because it was part of a patrol. So it comes in and demands our names. And the person sat next to me is a former companion of the Doctor, so giving their name would be bad. So I, being cool calm and collected in a crisis, yell 'No, don't!'
I hate it when dream-me is a idiot. I get all embarrassed, and I'm too asleep to do anything about it.
So, to save the situation, I pretend I'm talking to the Dalek.
"Don't shoot! Please!" grovel grovel whimper. And give my full name. The actual real one, with all the letters and the last name and all. That I haven't used for ages, so its a bit of a surprise to the other humans there. But that also means it wasn't attached to any Dalek files on who to blow up, which is of the good.
So the Doctor's companion follows my lead and gives her real name. (Why we couldn't just lie I don't know. Maybe Daleks had voice stress analyzers or something.) And no one recognises it.
So then we all have to run and get to a transmitter powerful enough to broadcast our clever shutdown code to every Dalek on Earth, which basically means all of London but should cover more of England just to be on the safe side. So we have to go use the BBC.
But on the way out of the building we are betrayed! There are bad mean traitor people working for the Daleks. Because the government surrendered, so that makes Daleks the lawful authority, and they're just doing their jobs. :p
So anyway, we're surrounded by Daleks, and I haven't told anyone the plan so no one knows how important the stuff in my head is. So I tell Giles I have to get to a transmitter. And of course Giles (who hasn't appeared at all up until this bit of the dream) is the love of my life and trusts me implicitly without explanation, and leads the others into a big distracting charge on the Daleks around us, doing the noble sacrifice thing. Woe! Angst! Running away fast!
So we need to go use the BBC transmitters, right, because they've got the world service and all and can get everywhere. Except someone decides that we have to use the transmitter on the back of a lorry in a funfair instead, because the resistance already own that. But it is part of a cunning plan, because our transmission can distract the local Daleks for long enough that our people inside the BBC can push their tincans out the studios and rebroadcast our little signal. And then we will save the world.
And then only two of our original resistance group survive the battle, to stagger up to me (and I've been grabbing these big chains hooked up to the transmitter and they're sort of welded to my hands now, but hey, no worries, just peel myself off them, its only heroic wounds) and I go see who survived and... wake up.
And I'm pretty sure by the rules of narrative causality that is the point for the romantic reunion and Giles survives, albeit wounded, and possibly the guy who was at conventions, to represent the everyman viewer. But I woke up, so I don't know for sure, so I'm grumpy about that.
There was also this strange bit where we knocked the head off a Dalek and a teenage version of the 9th Doctor was inside. And we didn't know if it was a younger version of the actual Doctor on some kind of Secret Mission, or if it was a clone, or if it was some kind of Dalek secret thingy. But he looked all sad. And then he flew off. In his little floaty Dalek body.
That bit was strange.
Actually I think we'd just been talking about how the Doctor was scary, even if he was theoretically on our side, due to his use of weapons of mass destruction, including chemical and biological warfare. And then there was the guy and looking all pouty and sad. I guess because we didn't trust him. But really, he is scary. Just not usually at, like, us.
So, there was lots of running around. And hiding. And finding various bits of the resistance forces. Including Chewtoy (a guy from conventions who wears costumes) for no readily apparent reason (except for, if Daleks invaded earth, convention people would probably have the least difficulty adjusting. And the most ideas what to do about it). Most of the resistance people had brightly colored highlights and a general matrix/punk kind of look going on, which seems sort of high maintenance for a sort of post apocalypse Dalek fascist police state place, not to mention the way making yourself so visually distinctive even a Dalek can see you seems unwise in a target sort of way.
I was, as per usual, my asleep Mary Sue self, with all kinds of nifty magic powers. Like the telekinesis, and a sort of precognition (more like I'd watched the episodes before than I could predict what would happen if I did something). And, crucially, I could receive Dalek signals, and send them over short range. So we ambushed a Dalek, cut it off from the general Dalek communications net, and fiddled with signals until we found a shutdown code. Or possibly a sequence of commands it would find so inherently contradictory it blew itself up.
There were a lot of Daleks around. Every model we've ever seen, except the dumb Emperor ones. I mean they might have been somewhere but they weren't where I could see. All the other sorts were flying around and looking in windows. Including the heavy weapons Dalek. Which is really not funny to see from the end where you're about to go kaboom. And some of the other Daleks shoot gas. But with my awesoome powers, I huff and puff and blow it all away, so we don't get killed.
Got to love those powers.
So, a Dalek comes up under the window, and we can see the ears before it can see us, so we dive down and try to hide under the windowsill. But it can see us anyway, probably with infrared, or possibly just by sticking its eyestalk through the window. We couldn't just grab it because it was part of a patrol. So it comes in and demands our names. And the person sat next to me is a former companion of the Doctor, so giving their name would be bad. So I, being cool calm and collected in a crisis, yell 'No, don't!'
I hate it when dream-me is a idiot. I get all embarrassed, and I'm too asleep to do anything about it.
So, to save the situation, I pretend I'm talking to the Dalek.
"Don't shoot! Please!" grovel grovel whimper. And give my full name. The actual real one, with all the letters and the last name and all. That I haven't used for ages, so its a bit of a surprise to the other humans there. But that also means it wasn't attached to any Dalek files on who to blow up, which is of the good.
So the Doctor's companion follows my lead and gives her real name. (Why we couldn't just lie I don't know. Maybe Daleks had voice stress analyzers or something.) And no one recognises it.
So then we all have to run and get to a transmitter powerful enough to broadcast our clever shutdown code to every Dalek on Earth, which basically means all of London but should cover more of England just to be on the safe side. So we have to go use the BBC.
But on the way out of the building we are betrayed! There are bad mean traitor people working for the Daleks. Because the government surrendered, so that makes Daleks the lawful authority, and they're just doing their jobs. :p
So anyway, we're surrounded by Daleks, and I haven't told anyone the plan so no one knows how important the stuff in my head is. So I tell Giles I have to get to a transmitter. And of course Giles (who hasn't appeared at all up until this bit of the dream) is the love of my life and trusts me implicitly without explanation, and leads the others into a big distracting charge on the Daleks around us, doing the noble sacrifice thing. Woe! Angst! Running away fast!
So we need to go use the BBC transmitters, right, because they've got the world service and all and can get everywhere. Except someone decides that we have to use the transmitter on the back of a lorry in a funfair instead, because the resistance already own that. But it is part of a cunning plan, because our transmission can distract the local Daleks for long enough that our people inside the BBC can push their tincans out the studios and rebroadcast our little signal. And then we will save the world.
And then only two of our original resistance group survive the battle, to stagger up to me (and I've been grabbing these big chains hooked up to the transmitter and they're sort of welded to my hands now, but hey, no worries, just peel myself off them, its only heroic wounds) and I go see who survived and... wake up.
And I'm pretty sure by the rules of narrative causality that is the point for the romantic reunion and Giles survives, albeit wounded, and possibly the guy who was at conventions, to represent the everyman viewer. But I woke up, so I don't know for sure, so I'm grumpy about that.
There was also this strange bit where we knocked the head off a Dalek and a teenage version of the 9th Doctor was inside. And we didn't know if it was a younger version of the actual Doctor on some kind of Secret Mission, or if it was a clone, or if it was some kind of Dalek secret thingy. But he looked all sad. And then he flew off. In his little floaty Dalek body.
That bit was strange.
Actually I think we'd just been talking about how the Doctor was scary, even if he was theoretically on our side, due to his use of weapons of mass destruction, including chemical and biological warfare. And then there was the guy and looking all pouty and sad. I guess because we didn't trust him. But really, he is scary. Just not usually at, like, us.