"No, you're - you're something else. I don't know what." Daniel's heart is juddering in the early stages of panic and he wets his lips nervously.
He can tell it's old. Something - early and foundational and terrible.
Then the thing just casually floats a bottle his way, like spontaneous telekinesis is no big deal and the fact that, for him, it probably isn't is more than a little intimidating. Oh god. Oh great. The smart thing to do would be to sink quietly into anonymity and slip away and not bother the immensely powerful being wearing the skin of a man who obviously is not a fan of being bothered.
Daniel has no weapons. He has nothing. He's armed solely with fearful self-righteousness and the small consolation that if he dies, he at least knows where he's going. Mostly. But he's ruled by pathos, and right now pathos trumps common sense. As always. So he steels himself into relative, icy calm and addresses Iman without once taking his eyes away from that thing - "Nick," or whatever else it calls itself, probably something a good deal more grandiose-sounding.
"I've met aliens. I know aliens. I've helped kill some of the worst. And that?" He jerks his chin at it. "That's something...worse than anything I've ever seen. And I used to exist on a higher plane so believe me when I say that's - bad." Bad doesn't even begin to cover it. Daniel doesn't think there's a language capable of covering it, human or otherwise.
no subject
He can tell it's old. Something - early and foundational and terrible.
Then the thing just casually floats a bottle his way, like spontaneous telekinesis is no big deal and the fact that, for him, it probably isn't is more than a little intimidating. Oh god. Oh great. The smart thing to do would be to sink quietly into anonymity and slip away and not bother the immensely powerful being wearing the skin of a man who obviously is not a fan of being bothered.
Daniel has no weapons. He has nothing. He's armed solely with fearful self-righteousness and the small consolation that if he dies, he at least knows where he's going. Mostly. But he's ruled by pathos, and right now pathos trumps common sense. As always. So he steels himself into relative, icy calm and addresses Iman without once taking his eyes away from that thing - "Nick," or whatever else it calls itself, probably something a good deal more grandiose-sounding.
"I've met aliens. I know aliens. I've helped kill some of the worst. And that?" He jerks his chin at it. "That's something...worse than anything I've ever seen. And I used to exist on a higher plane so believe me when I say that's - bad." Bad doesn't even begin to cover it. Daniel doesn't think there's a language capable of covering it, human or otherwise.