(Untitled)

[witfrommytongue]

Some of you in the Nexus may recognise this man- tall, whipcord thin and striking; androgynous, alien-looking, with a shock of hot red hair and made up face, eyes mismatched, lips narrow, cheekbones high.  He looks, in fact, just like David Bowie did during the early seventies, when he was masquerading as the spaceboy saviour of Earth.  Only

Comments

[livingmetal]

If you save it, it's not doomed anymore.

[witfrommytongue]

You misunderstand me, darling. Save as in saviours, messiahs, Christ on his cross.

[livingmetal]

Only one man who can save us from the evil of our sins? By sacrificing himself on the figurative or literal cross, by giving of himself so that others may survive and fight and live, by sacrificing his happiness appease a parental figure's whims?

No, I understand. You shouldn't bother, because that's not real.

[witfrommytongue]

Literal thing, aren't you? Sin doesn't enter into it, love; there's no such thing.

[te_gwas]

Really? David Bowie? David Bowie as (the instantly recognisable) Ziggy Stardust. Really. Alright, Nexus, you win this round.

"Depends on why the world is doomed and who will be dying with it."

If he's anything but rational, he might have to sit down and take a few moments to himself. For the moment, then, he'll take the practical approach to avoid an embarrassing overreaction to this particular Nexus-goer.

[witfrommytongue]

Ziggy takes another draw on that fag, leisurely exhaling the smoke in wavering rings as he appears to consider Ianto's question. After the time it takes to do that, he laughs.

'Everyone, babe. Humanity's gonna swallow itself right up.'

He shifts, catlike, one long thigh sliding over the other as he turns to face Ianto, propping his chin up on one hand. 'Why does it depend?'

[te_gwas]

Ianto shrugs and tucks his hands into his trouser pockets. "You could've been talking about another world. I'm sure there are a few I wouldn't shed a tear over." Like whichever one the Cybermen come from, for instance. Or the Daleks. He's not sure if they have their own planets.

[witfrommytongue]

'There are innumerable planets dying every instant,' he acknowledges agreeably. 'But Earth is the one I'm on, so Earth is the one I have the power to affect.'

He cocks his head. A strange reaction from this boy, as if he was quite used to the concept of other planets and worlds. Not that there should be anything strange about that, but most humans, to his experience, were not so enlightened, and this one certainly seems human.

[campjesus]

Brody, by contrast, is the wee little gothlet whose ensemble is entirely more coherent (all black, all the time), with the bizarrely asexual aura preventing him from picking up on any sexu-or-sensu-ality. (We approve of this, he's seventeen.) He smokes too much (hoarse voice) and drinks too much (hand gripping beer bottle too tightly).

"There's always something worth saving." Well, he's not talking about worlds, but it's close enough.

[witfrommytongue]

Ziggy Stardust, however, is an intensely sexual being, and so pretty little glammed-up Brody with the studs in his face and the makeup will get a lazily appreciative look.

'How do you judge worth?' He uncoils himself to transfer his regard entirely to the boy, sifting a few fingertips through his hair as he does so. He's genuinely curious; he doesn't really understand how humans view their world, not when the ones he's come to know are so blatantly dismissive of it.

[campjesus]

He's wearing a lot of clothes, and they're all too big for him. The effect is probably intentional. He shrugs: "It's always there, and that's enough for me. I don't believe there's anyone--anything, whatever--beyond forgiveness, so it stands to reason there's nothing not worth saving." He punctuates this with a long swig of beer. He's not drunk, not even tipsy, but he is on his way there, yessir.

[witfrommytongue]

'You're talking morality, then.'

Ziggy doesn't entirely go in for morality, in the traditional sense. He and his lot are, morally speaking, a bit like hippies grown up and gone square. Peace and love and harmony and all that- it's for that very reason, in fact, that he's come to Earth, a planet embroiled in its own internal, petty conflicts, its people on the verge of extinction from lack of natural resources.

[text, anon, untraceable]

[waterfell]

Because this is the world I was born to. This is the world I want to protect. This is the life I want to stay with right now.

[witfrommytongue]

So you know which world it is I'm referring to, then?

[text, anon, untraceable]

[waterfell]

No. I know why I fight for this world I live in myself.

[text]

[witfrommytongue]

And why's that?

[iampulse]

Bugger, thinks one, This form must be popular now. There at a workdesk is an almost identical man, albeit one dressed far less interestingly- nationless, sparkling military attire constricts the already-too-thin gentleman to the point of turning him blue.

"You assume a lot to think yourself responsible," the Captain replies, shortly.

[witfrommytongue]

The sudden, inconspicuous appearence of this doppelganger merits a quietly lifted eyebrow. How very unusual; he hasn't encountered that before. Of course, his own body is not entirely his. That is to say, it's not the one he usually wears, when he's on his own world. But as far as he's aware, it's an original blueprint; apparently not. The Captain, then, gets a little nod of recognition, before his answer sends Ziggy into delighted chuckles.

'I do!' He agrees. 'Rock'n'roll messiah, brother, it's in the job description.'

Perhaps it's egotistical of him to say so, but that doesn't make it any less true. But it's alright; he does want to save the dying Earth with all its pretty, brightly-coloured children, and he fully intends on saving it, no-matter what his question might say.