But my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles...
In the Kashtta Tower, people are doing things.
Gene hasn't been holding his lion-shaped vigil over Sam for a while. Partly due to the lovely argument he had with Miss Costello, who might just be spokeswoman for the Sopping-Knickers Club when it comes to Jack Harkness. Partly due to the rescue attempt that wasn't. Partly due to the fact that he's been getting increasingly worried over the lack of response from one Chris Skelton.
But it's that worry, among other things, that has him trying to track Sam down. And remembering with some displeasure that Sam never so much as mentioned Chris's presence in the first place, despite the fact that they both obviously knew each other.
And as for the aforementioned Miss Costello, Suzie has gone down to the sub-basement. She's been looking at the Rift as if she expects to divine the future if she stares into it long enough, her expression reflecting an emotion somewhere between unease and fascination.
Her hands are wrapped around a mug of coffee, taking some comfort in the warmth, even if she's far too lost in thought to actually drink it. It's a shame, actually, since she's rather missed Ianto's coffee. But she has other things to think on, and since she's not coming up with any ways of helping Jack right off, this seems as good a thing to devote her attention to as any other while she gives her subconscious a chance to work. There's something distinctly wrong with this place, and... Perhaps it's a bit silly of her, but she's wondering if perhaps she'll see something other people can't. If there are ghosts, maybe there's a shadow. Something she can communicate with.
Hello? she tries.
Eventually, she sets the coffee down, still untouched, and starts thumbing through the journal that's down there.
Upstairs, Ianto is desperately wishing he could go clothes-shopping without getting odd looks. There's always the internet, he supposes. There's a sizable following for American-made mock-kilts that might do him well enough, but he's wary of buying clothing without trying it on just on general principle.
He really wishes he could have a word with his father, though the amount of explaining he'd have to do probably wouldn't be worth it, no matter how good a tailor his dad might've been.
As he ponders how to dress oneself as a faun, and the practicality of man-skirts, he's also making coffee. Someone's been trying to make do in his absence, and he most emphatically does not approve of their efforts. Time to remind everyone what real coffee tastes like.
Shepherd Book has already been graced with a cup of Ianto's coffee, and, for all that he's supposed to avoid stimulants... Well, that was one vice he had a bit of trouble giving up. He's sipping at it at the moment with an expression of sublime contentment, Bible on the table next to him. At some point, he'll have to introduce himself to everyone, but for the moment, he's happy enough with his coffee and some time to think.
He's choosing to focus on the happy things in life right now, at least on the surface. In the back of his mind, he's thinking about strategy and tactics and whether or not he's too old these days to take on a Time Agent, and whether he'd choose to do so even if he could. Not that he wants it to come to that, but it's not a possibility he can ignore.
How would he have dealt with it if this was himself he was going up against, is the question. The answer to that won't give him a conclusive strategy, but it's would be a good place to start. Think like an Operative to deal with a Time Agent.
Of course, it's possible that Thane's telling the truth, and he's hunting down a war criminal, but Book has just a bit of experience with the sort of lawmen who act so blatantly outside their jurisdiction, and that never leads to anything good.
[[OOC: Even if they're wrapped up in their thoughts or looking for someone in particular, everyone here is taggable. Just FYI.]]
WARNING: The Gene/Sam thread contains adult content of the slashy and possibly-explicit sort and may not be suitable for all audiences.
Gene hasn't been holding his lion-shaped vigil over Sam for a while. Partly due to the lovely argument he had with Miss Costello, who might just be spokeswoman for the Sopping-Knickers Club when it comes to Jack Harkness. Partly due to the rescue attempt that wasn't. Partly due to the fact that he's been getting increasingly worried over the lack of response from one Chris Skelton.
But it's that worry, among other things, that has him trying to track Sam down. And remembering with some displeasure that Sam never so much as mentioned Chris's presence in the first place, despite the fact that they both obviously knew each other.
And as for the aforementioned Miss Costello, Suzie has gone down to the sub-basement. She's been looking at the Rift as if she expects to divine the future if she stares into it long enough, her expression reflecting an emotion somewhere between unease and fascination.
Her hands are wrapped around a mug of coffee, taking some comfort in the warmth, even if she's far too lost in thought to actually drink it. It's a shame, actually, since she's rather missed Ianto's coffee. But she has other things to think on, and since she's not coming up with any ways of helping Jack right off, this seems as good a thing to devote her attention to as any other while she gives her subconscious a chance to work. There's something distinctly wrong with this place, and... Perhaps it's a bit silly of her, but she's wondering if perhaps she'll see something other people can't. If there are ghosts, maybe there's a shadow. Something she can communicate with.
Hello? she tries.
Eventually, she sets the coffee down, still untouched, and starts thumbing through the journal that's down there.
Upstairs, Ianto is desperately wishing he could go clothes-shopping without getting odd looks. There's always the internet, he supposes. There's a sizable following for American-made mock-kilts that might do him well enough, but he's wary of buying clothing without trying it on just on general principle.
He really wishes he could have a word with his father, though the amount of explaining he'd have to do probably wouldn't be worth it, no matter how good a tailor his dad might've been.
As he ponders how to dress oneself as a faun, and the practicality of man-skirts, he's also making coffee. Someone's been trying to make do in his absence, and he most emphatically does not approve of their efforts. Time to remind everyone what real coffee tastes like.
Shepherd Book has already been graced with a cup of Ianto's coffee, and, for all that he's supposed to avoid stimulants... Well, that was one vice he had a bit of trouble giving up. He's sipping at it at the moment with an expression of sublime contentment, Bible on the table next to him. At some point, he'll have to introduce himself to everyone, but for the moment, he's happy enough with his coffee and some time to think.
He's choosing to focus on the happy things in life right now, at least on the surface. In the back of his mind, he's thinking about strategy and tactics and whether or not he's too old these days to take on a Time Agent, and whether he'd choose to do so even if he could. Not that he wants it to come to that, but it's not a possibility he can ignore.
How would he have dealt with it if this was himself he was going up against, is the question. The answer to that won't give him a conclusive strategy, but it's would be a good place to start. Think like an Operative to deal with a Time Agent.
Of course, it's possible that Thane's telling the truth, and he's hunting down a war criminal, but Book has just a bit of experience with the sort of lawmen who act so blatantly outside their jurisdiction, and that never leads to anything good.
[[OOC: Even if they're wrapped up in their thoughts or looking for someone in particular, everyone here is taggable. Just FYI.]]
WARNING: The Gene/Sam thread contains adult content of the slashy and possibly-explicit sort and may not be suitable for all audiences.