@Newworldsandimpossiblethings |
{London, England; 1868.} The clipping noise of a horse's hooves on the cobblestone back street sounded clearly in the evening air, though not quite drowning out a quiet hum that seemed to come from a small alleyway nearby. Whispers had been going around that people had seen strange, metallic figures roaming about in the fog, but most that heard the rumours would brush them off as being absurd. They would be wrong. Once the carriage had passed and the street was quiet once more, a blue-lit eyestalk peered out from the gap between the buildings, panning from left to right to scan the street before the creature connected to it continued into the open. The lone Dalek had been quietly patrolling for some time, only occasionally letting itself be spotted while it watched for a certain, expected individual. In the past, it had- to quote an old, Human phrase- always rained on the Dalek's parade of destruction. This time, however, they had a new plan, and they had to keep an eye on the Storm to do it.
