There's a fine line drawing my senses together and I think it's about to break...

[sarkraticmethod]

Julian Sark is not a happy kitty.

Which is understandable, given his current situation (and the rather unsavory nature of a specific journal entry and the heartbreaking nature of a specific other journal entry and the deeply unintelligent nature of a journal entry he just recently made, which, by the way, he knows is a stupid plan, which somehow

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[casanovapoptart]

Will... has actually not had any direct interaction with Sark. Probably Sydney's doing, honestly. But he's on the prowl now.

And being on the prowl, he obviously pokes his head into the CCTV room. "Hey, are you Julian Sark?"

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark doesn't have to turn around to know the voice of one Will Tippin- really hard to forget the voice of the man you had tortured, and does he really need that right now? Not that Will has any idea about that if what Marshall blathered at him when the man decided that silence wasn't loud enough was any indication, which is probably for the best, but whatever.

He lifts his head a bit, but still doesn't turn to look at him, his tone as flat as usual. "If you have something to say to me, say it quickly." The and get out is heavily implied.

[casanovapoptart]

Right. Something big's going down, Sark must be involved. Which would have something to do with listening to someone named April who Will's never heard of.

Whatever. Not the most important thing.

"Um... Kara says to tell you not to be stupid, and to listen to April. She was very firm about that." He pauses. "She also told me to hit you, but I figure I'll just pass along the sentiment."

[sarkraticmethod]

Whatever amounts to silence in the room after Will stops speaking is abruptly broken by a pen hitting the floor, followed by the sound of the wheels of the chair Sark's sitting on squeaking as he turns around to face him.

"Tippin, either you're completely mad or I am, and if I have to doubt my own sanity, then I have more problems than I really want to deal with right now, so I'm just going to assume you're the one losing his mind in this scenario and leave it at that. Kara Kendricks is dead, so how you're receiving messages from her is beyond me, and you should be very happy that the sentiment is all you're passing on, because if you so much look at me with the intent to hit me, I will make sure you never do it again."

Outwardly, there is no emotion on his face and that threat was probably made all the creepier by the fact that it was pretty much said in a monotone... Inwardly, however, he's wondering exactly what did he ever do to the universe to deserve any of this.

[mademeaweapon]

See, the thing with Will is that he can't not ask about some things. And the thing with Sydney is that she's intelligent, with excellent problem-solving skills, and it's not hard to figure out something like this.

The door of the control room swings open, and Sydney sighs. A part of her doesn't even want to know. On the other hand... "What are you doing here?"

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark headdesks. Literally. His head hits that desk and there's more than a few Russian invectives about the universe and where exactly it go and what exactly it can do on the way there to pass the time being muttered under his breath before he regains dignity enough to actually sit up again and turn to face Sydney, looking for all the world that none of that just happened and that he was always this placid.

"Plotting the downfall of the entire human race. The fact that I'm working towards this goal in the middle of Torchwood's stronghold makes the process all the more thrilling for me."

[mademeaweapon]

Sydney raises an eyebrow at him. She does not find your sarcasm amusing, Sark. Not at all. "Are you looking for a good reason for me to hurt you, or does that just come naturally?"

Tread carefully, Sark. There are so many hard, flat surfaces here for her to slam your face against, and she should be able to manage it without damaging anything too important. ...Of the equipment, that is. She doesn't much care about your face.

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark fixes her with a flat stare. "It's more of a kneejerk reflex. I wouldn't want anyone to actually find me endearing or anything, considering I've spent years cultivating this aura of dislike about myself. It would be such a pity to have that go to waste."

He figures Sydney's going to pound him one and takes this moment to step away from the table.. Not that it'll help if she really wants to smash his face in, but at least she'll have to work for it. "And if my sarcasm isn't proving to you exactly how much I don't want to answer that question, than let me take this moment to tell you that I don't want to answer that question."