bakerstreet | Daemon Meme

In the universe of the His Dark Materials trilogy (or the movie The Golden Compass), every person has a creature called a dæmon that accompanies them all their lives, and is emotionally and metaphysically a part of them. Dæmons are often described as sort of external souls (while the part of the personality in a human's body is the spirit).

Basic Dæmon Facts:

- They take the shape of animals
- They can talk, no matter what their shape
- Children's dæmons can change form at will; around puberty they 'settle' and become one animal permanently
- Neither the person or the dæmon chooses the final settled form, but it always reflects their personality (although not necessarily in obvious or simple ways)
- They are almost always the opposite sex as their human
- If a dæmon feels pain, so will their person, and vice versa
- Being physically apart from one's dæmon causes horrible emotional and physical pain
- Dæmons frequently talk to and touch each other, in ways that reflect or complement their persons' interactions, but dæmons talking to humans other than their own is considered strange, and touching humans not their own is extremely taboo; it generally occurs only between long-time lovers. Touching someone else's dæmon without permission is a terrible violation.

How it works:

Just design a dæmon for your muse and put as little or as much information as you like about them (shape, name, link to a picture or species wiki if you are so inclined) in a comment, with your muse's name and series in the subject. Check out other people's dæmons and let your dæmons interact too.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Maybe I should do that. Become a uni student. Whaddaya think, Coronella?"

She looks as affronted as a bird could be. Neither daemon are impressed right now. She turns her head away, ducking her beak against a wing and grumbling, "Why do you keep calling me that?" only likely to be heard by Ant's ears.

"I could do it," he continues, looking very amused. "Drive my professors mad. Good bit of fun."

He eats another one of his pickle pops while watching her hack at the ice.

Ant has nothing but sympathy for Coro; if the Doctor actually starts calling him Anton, he might very well bite his leg. Or at least think about it very hard.

"How are you eating those things?" She can smell the pickle pop, practically taste it in the back of her mouth. "They're disgusting." Martha finally chips off enough ice to get at the box, revealing..."Blueberry pancakes wrapped around sausages?"

Still more appetising than pickle pops. She unwraps a pair and sticks them in the microwave, ignoring the growling sound coming from her stomach. (She's pretty sure it's her stomach, and not Ant.)

"Nooo they're not, they're delicious. Kind of addicting, really." He peers at Martha's find, imagining in his mind combining his pickle pops with her blueberry pancakes wrapped around sausages.

It also sounds delicious and it makes him realize if he was still his other self he'd probably be gagging, so he doesn't ask Martha for some of her food to try the mixed combo out.

"I have a plan," he says, waving a half-eaten pickle pop in Ant's general direction, and then to Martha. "We finish eating, and then we take the TARDIS to find a supernova or something, and we watch from the TARDIS. Because then we're still in the TARDIS, and keeping calm. Ha!"

Loopholes.

He's so stupidly proud of himself right now, Martha.

Ant wrinkles his nose at the smell of pickle juice wafted in his direction. This is, he decides, possibly one of Martha's worst ideas ever, although he doesn't share that opinion with her. Can't share that opinion with her in front of the Doctor, because it would just be rude.

Not that she'll listen anyway.

"That doesn't sound calm." She gives the Doctor a dubious look, though what she really wants to do is give Coro a please-help-me look. The microwave dings, and she pulls her pair of sausages on a stick out. They're still icy on the outside, and molten hot on the inside, but she shoves half of one into her mouth before she's even quite realised it, and sticks a third in the microwave. "I think supernovas are practically the opposite of calm."

"Well we won't be effected by it," obviously, "the TARDIS will protect us."

Come on, Martha, don't burst his bubble.

(Coro is, unfortunately, not helpful. She likes supernovas.)

Martha throws her hands in the air, nearly losing one of her sausages. She manages to cling onto it (much to Ant's dismay), and glares at it like it's personally offended her.

"Fine," she huffs. "But if something goes wrong, I'm totally blaming you."

She knows he'll say that nothing will go wrong. She only wishes she could believe it.

"Nothing will go wrong!" he promises, as she predicted. And it's bad when Coro and him are in agreement. They'll play it safe, he mentally reasons. Keep at more of a distance than he would normally, triple check the shields. Take all the precautions that he... wouldn't often take.

"Pop a few more of those things in and we'll take 'em with us to the console room. Umm..." He pokes into one of the cabinets he didn't touch and finds a large plate, setting it down on the countertop. "There, that'll help."

Martha empties the box into the microwave, tossing half a sausage and pancake down to Ant. He doesn't have to eat, of course, but he likes to have a taste of things from time to time, and right now he's grumpy enough that she'd rather distract him with food.

"Oh, yeah, what could possibly go wrong when you're just hanging out in space, watching a star die and collapse in on itself and then explode in a giant mass of radiation visible from light years away?" she replies sarcastically. "Absolutely nothing, I'm sure."

He pauses, listening to her words and not really computing them. He clasps his hands in front of him and turns to face Coro, whispering to her (even though everyone can hear him), "She sounds cross. Why does she sound so cross?"

"Maybe she doesn't approve of your dangerous hobbies," Coro answers.

"I do it all the time," he remarks as he turns back towards Martha.

"You're going to make me go grey," she informs the Doctor, pretending not to hear Ant's muttered "Now you know how I feel" at her feet. "Come on, then, let's go find a supernova."

She doesn't, in fact, approve of the Doctor's dangerous hobbies, but she knows how entirely helpless she is to stop him. Besides, she's sounding like her mum again, and nobody likes that.

He's sure that if she just sees it, she'll change her mind. So that's what leads to their four relocating to the console room with a plate of pancake-sausages, and the Doctor coaxing the TARDIS to finding them an in-progress supernova. Then it's simply pushing the ship door's open and sitting in the threshold, legs dangling safely out of his ship.

"Come sit, Martha. It's a beaut."

For someone that just died and regenerated, there's something poetic to him watching a star die.

Edited 2016-07-12 05:03 (UTC)

She can't deny the beauty of it, the coruscating colours brilliant against the dark of space. But she sits cross-legged, a few feet back from the doors - it's not that she doesn't trust the TARDIS to keep her safe, she's just worried that something might go wrong. Ant settles in next to her, and she helps herself to another pancake-sausage.

"Have you ever gone far back enough to watch the Big Bang?" she asks idly. It seems like the sort of stupid thing he'd do (although she means that in the nicest possible way, mostly).

"Sure," he says. "Very long time ago." He grins over his shoulder at her. "Maybe due for an encore. See it with different eyes." Older eyes. He thinks he'd like to see it again, before he's gone from the universe entirely. He hopes he still has at least a few hundred years before that happens though.

He continues to watch, looking positively relaxed. It probably says a lot about him if this was the most calming thing he could think to do, other than actually resting.

"I think my organs have finally settled."

"Oh, well, as long as your organs have settled." Martha rolls her eyes at him once his head is turned again.

She picks up another sausage-pancake and starts to gnaw at it when an alarm on the TARDIS console goes off. "It's not supposed to be doing that, is it?" Which is an asinine question, because if it was, then it wouldn't be an alarm. Ant looks up at her, concerned, and starts to wriggle away from the open doors.

Daemon Meme

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