Prompt #230
When I speak, people hear me in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The person I just helped in the shop I work at is horrified.
The man made his way around the shop picking things up, looking at them confused, and putting them back. I followed him around fixing the things he messed up. He knocked over an entire rack of shirts and I spent nearly 15 minutes picking it up before I heard the sound of glass breaking and a thick Scottish accent say “Oh no,” I stepped away from the now fixed rack before sending someone to clean it up as I went to help the man.
“Is there something I can help you find today, sir?” I smiled as kindly as possible, hoping to keep him from breaking anything else. His eyes widened as he stared at me, taking a step back.
“That language,” he said. His first language must have been scottish, he must have heard me in something other than english and now he was confused.
“Yes, I can tell you speak Scottish… by your accent, sir,” I tried. He shook his head.
“Not scottish?” I whispered just loud enough for him to hear.
“Nobody’s spoken that language in hundreds of years,” he circled me.
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think I understand,” I tried breaking away from his glare.
“Stop speaking in that language, talk to me in english,” he demanded.
“I can’t!” I whisper yelled. He stopped circling me and gave me a confused look “What do you mean?”
“People hear me in their native language, I can’t change it, whatever your native language is, whatever you’re hearing me say, I cannot change it, so if you want it to stop, then you should just go,” my voice shook.
“I’m sorry,” his voice got softer.
“It’s fine,” I replied. He pointed towards the door “I’ll- I’ll go,” before I could say anything else he hurried out the doors.
*Skippty Wippity*
I saw the man again, later that day after I got off my shift. I grabbed a coffee from the cafe next door and went to run some errands. However I was cut off by the man digging through the flowerbeds in the empty front patio of said cafe I had just exited.
“You’re a very strange man,” I said, startling him.
“Language girl, how lovely to see you again,” he turned towards me.
“My name's Y/N, not language girl,” I pointed to my shirt “see I’m still wearing my name tag,” after pointing that out I pulled it off and tossed it to him.
“What's this for?” he asked.
“So you remember if we ever see each other again,” I laughed before walking away to go start my shopping.
*skippity wippity*
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were following me,” I laughed as I faced the scottish man once more. I had found him knocking over another clothing rack (thankfully not at my shop) and furiously cursing at it.
“Laungua-” he cut himself off pulling the name tag out of his pocket “Y/N” he corrected himself before dropping it back into his coat.
“That is my name, yes,” I responded.
"Have You seen anything strange happening on this street? Like at all?" He changed the subject.
"I can't say I have, but if i do, you'll be the first i tell… uh"
"Oh right, I'm the Doctor," he stuck his hand out for me to shake. I shook his hand before speaking "what language do you hear me speak?" He paused momentarily "a language called Gallifreyan,"
"Gallifreyan?" I'm sure I looked unbelievably confused.
"Yes," he nodded.
"Are you an alien?" I shot out before realizing how stupid I probably sounded.
"Yes, how did you know?"
"Gallifreyan. Never heard of it in my life, keep in mind i speak every language. Also you said that nobody had spoken it in hundreds of years and it's your first language, making you hundreds of years old," I explained my reasoning.
"Is that a problem?" He asked.
"No," I shook my head. He smiled "wonderful, wanna help me save the world from an, at the moment unnamed, alien species?"
"Obviously,"
