QUESTION B.R.E.A.D. THE DALEK
FULGENT || breadthedalek

fallen-from-grace:

questionmethedalek:

fallen-from-grace:

Creak.

Lucifer would be lying if he said that he knew someone else was there from the very beginning.

Creak.

He could play it off as if he knew. As if he hadn’t been caught up in his own thoughts.

Creak.

The moon went on ignoring him.

Lucifer turned and walked around to the other side of the building. Just on the other side of the warehouse was what seemed to be a worn-down park – probably still in use by the children of those that had loved it decades ago. It seemed Lucifer wasn’t the only one caught up in a hopeless reverie that night. Part of him wanted to just walk off, convince himself that it wasn’t worth the bother. But another part couldn’t resist a solitary figure – all his for the taking. And so he approached.

“It’s late,” he said to the boy swinging. Lucifer paused to take him in – to get a feel for who the boy was. “You haven’t always been human.”

Well. Either this would be very easy or very difficult.

Creak. 

Wait, creak? 

That was impossible. Brad wasn’t swinging.

Creak.

There it was again. It wasn’t the same creaking though. It was like a smaller scale creak. In his mind, Brad registered them as footsteps. 

Creak. 

It took Brad a few seconds to connect the though of the word footsteps and the fact that someone needs to have a foot in order to produce footsteps. Which meant that someone was there.

Creak.

It was louder. That was four. The noises came in fairly distant intervals to be an animal, so it definitely was a person. 

No creak. Have they arrived? Brad registered something in his head that sounded like a noise he should know. It took him a second to process it in his head. He was so distracted by his thoughts. The noise registered in his head as someone speaking. Then registered as words. He translated them in his mind, then finally, looked over at the figure to respond from his swing of loneliness. 

“Is it that obvious?”

It most certainly took him long enough.

Lucifer stared down at him, his expression remaining neutral. He was still trying to determine if this would be easy or not, tempting the boy into sin. Perhaps it would be. Perhaps he didn’t even have a soul to offer up. Lucifer leaned against one of the poles of the swing set, folding his arms across his chest.

“To me it is,” he replied casually. “Everything has a tendency to be obvious to me.”

Stars were starting to shine brightly. Lucifer eyes were beginning to hurt. He wanted to get out of there.

“I take it you’re not here to stargaze,” he added on. Something crawled up deep inside of him and settled underneath his flesh. Sympathy. It felt like sympathy.

Someone forced into humanity. Poor kid.

Something clicked.

Brad’s mind focused more on reality and exited his thought coma. Though, even now, nothing came naturally. He had to think about everything he did, which is what happens in a thought coma. You sit there and you do nothing but think. If you do any action that isn’t thinking, it has to go through a whole application process in your head. Brad sped up the process. You have to be socially appropriate now, solider.


Brad decided to look over at the person, to at least seem like he was making an attempt to talk. The look he gave the man was entirely solemn. Completely resigned. Only three words, solider. You can do it. 

"Neither are you." 

It was amazing how every action he had to think about. Too much work. 



Not Good Morning

impalapie:

questionmethedalek:

impalapie:

It’s Dean’s turn now to pull the other into an embrace. “Nothing’s wrong with you,” he started. “It’s a fit of depression. Everybody has them every once in a while. They kinda totally suck, because you feel like your happiness will turn back on again like a switch or something. And when it doesn’t, you just feel helpless and stupid. But you’re not. You’re such a strong guy, helping me at least with my problems. You’re freakin’ smart, too. This is gonna last a bit, and it’s gonna feel like forever, but these feelings aren’t forever. It’s just your body, man. Chemicals and stuff in your brain get imbalanced and you have mood swings. I promise you, if you find the little things that make you happy, and gradually work on it, you’ll find that you’re smiling again. And that the negative emotions don’t cloud your mind anymore.” Dean shuts his mouth, hoping what he has to say is effective. 

Brad felt numb inside, barely returning the embrace. His heart wanted to lift at Dean’s words, but the voice in his head just didn’t let it. Brad began crying, only recognizable by the occasional sniffle or sharp in or exhale. Now you’ve gone and done it, solider. Burdened Dean with your inability to handle your own problems. You are a failure, solider. “It will not go away.” He said quietly, half of him hoping Dean wouldn’t hear, so he wouldn’t have to put up with his bullshit.  

Dean hears the sniffles that emit from the boy in his arms and he tightens his grip around him, his untapped parental instincts kicking in. He wants to grab everything that’s making Brad feel this way and beat it into a dumb little pulp. “It will go away,” he insists. “You’ve just gotta give it time.”

"What if.." Brad starts, breathing heavily. "What if I do not have enough time? What if by then it will have eaten away at me, and I will be nothing more than a body?" He asks, his voice sounding a bit nasal-y due to the crying. "I am really, really scared." He closes his eyes, trying to get all of this out of his head. Pull yourself together, solider! 

1 year ago with 77 notes via impalapie


The General

The General is the voice inside of Brad’s head. He is comprised of all of Brad’s pessimistic thoughts. He comes out when Brad is feeling the worst and won’t leave until Brad either goes to sleep, or has an emotional breakdown. The General’s words are always emphasized by italics during para roleplays, as he is unheard of in one liners. Sometimes though, he will tell Brad what to do, and what to not do. He comes out only in very emotional roleplays. 

You’re a failure, solider. 

Do not cry, solider. You are stronger than this.

You are a burden, solider. 



Not Good Morning

impalapie:

questionmethedalek:

impalapie:

questionmethedalek:

impalapie:

Dean laughs at him, despite himself. “Serves you right. You ok?” He makes sure to mull over the sound of concern. Though he is concerned whether or not Brad is bruising, he didn’t want to coddle him. That and he’s already stuffing his emotions back into his chest. Dean Winchester has a reputation to keep, damn it!

“Y-Yeah. I will be fine.” Brad’s mind makes an analogy. If he falls, and doesn’t get ice. He might bruise. If he has an overload of emotions, and doesn’t get ice, or in his case, talk to someone about it, they might just wind up hurting a lot more in the end. He keeps telling himself he will be fine, but what if he isn’t? What if one day he just breaks down and won’t know what to do with himself? He needs ice. “I am scared, Dean.” Brad stood under the covers, on the floor. 

Dean slips back into his caring mode at Brad’s almost unheard words. He sighs, patting the empty spot next to him on the mattress. “C’mere kid. I promise that I won’t puke on you if you tell me what’s wrong.” He didn’t feel so bad anymore; his stomach had finally begun to calm and all that remains now is a dull headache.

Brad stood up, and sat back down next to Dean on the bed. He pulled the blanket tighter around him as he started to explain. “For the past few months, I have been kind of… away from reality. I have not been paying attention to anything at all. My negative thoughts seemed to take over the positive ones and the negative ones just started taking over my life.” He said, voice starting to crack a bit. He didn’t make eye contact with Dean. “Everything got boring. I have started to either sleep all day or not at all. I figured when something exciting happens I would get happy again like I used to. But nothing is working. I am starting to think this state of mind is a result from the transformation from Dalek to Human, and something went wrong. It does not seem natural.” Don’t cry. Do not cry, solider. You are stronger than this. Brad began breathing heavily to calm himself down, if possible. 

It’s Dean’s turn now to pull the other into an embrace. “Nothing’s wrong with you,” he started. “It’s a fit of depression. Everybody has them every once in a while. They kinda totally suck, because you feel like your happiness will turn back on again like a switch or something. And when it doesn’t, you just feel helpless and stupid. But you’re not. You’re such a strong guy, helping me at least with my problems. You’re freakin’ smart, too. This is gonna last a bit, and it’s gonna feel like forever, but these feelings aren’t forever. It’s just your body, man. Chemicals and stuff in your brain get imbalanced and you have mood swings. I promise you, if you find the little things that make you happy, and gradually work on it, you’ll find that you’re smiling again. And that the negative emotions don’t cloud your mind anymore.” Dean shuts his mouth, hoping what he has to say is effective. 

Brad felt numb inside, barely returning the embrace. His heart wanted to lift at Dean’s words, but the voice in his head just didn’t let it. Brad began crying, only recognizable by the occasional sniffle or sharp in or exhale. Now you’ve gone and done it, solider. Burdened Dean with your inability to handle your own problems. You are a failure, solider. "It will not go away." He said quietly, half of him hoping Dean wouldn’t hear, so he wouldn’t have to put up with his bullshit.  

1 year ago with 77 notes via impalapie