Mama tried to wash their faces, but these kids, they lost their graces.

[akablackkitty]

Beyond having occasional chats with alien lifeforms, Marshall has mostly been holed up in his usual spot inside the CCTV room, keeping track of everything he can possibly think to keep track up and trying to avoid thinking about how hopeless this situation has gotten, because Marshall J. Flinkman does not dwell on hopelessness. At the moment,

Comments

[torchwoodsheart]

If she didn't have to be somewhat stable as the head of Torchwood, Gwen would have been reduced to tears or incoherent screaming by now. As it is, she's shoved all that back and locked it away until this is over, or until... well, the other option mostly involves all of them being dead. Gwen was already heading to the lobby so she could meet the Rani when she arrived, but her pace speeds a bit as Marshall's voice comes over the comms.

"...Thank you, Marshall," she says slowly, and then pauses. "I'll ask how you came to that conclusion later." Considering Sam couldn't communicate with the robot in any way that didn't leave him wanting to hit his head against the nearest flat surface... But it's not important now.

The fact that one of Thane's prisoners is free, though... That's actually more unsettling than it is comforting. "Sam, if you could meet me in the lobby...?"

"I'm on my way."

[akablackkitty]

Marshall chuckles a little as he exits the CCTV room and practically races towards the lobby. "Yeah, that's actually a pretty interesting story." He pauses before that can turn into a ramble. "...Later. Right."

Meanwhile, in the lobby, if Sark looked like Hell on Toast when he first met with Sydney, it's nothing compared to what he looks like now. Being emotionally repressed for most of his life and then going through more emotion than he really ever wanted to have to deal with in the course of an hour was not the best way to put an end to this whole affair or really good for his current mental state. He's tired, emotionally drained, hurting in more ways than one, and he just wants to convince Torchwood he's worthless and not have to deal with anything for awhile.

[mademeaweapon]

Gwen and Sam reach the lobby a few seconds after Marshall, descending the stairs quickly as they can. Sark looks... much the worse for wear, which isn't surprising, considering he was captured by Thane. Still surprising that he's free and alive. Well, if either of them happens to be lying about anything, Gwen's at least comforted by the fact that she has Sam here...

"What happened?" she asks as soon as she gets within comfortable speaking distance. Sydney sighs, and glances over to Sark. He gets to field the questions, considering this was his stupid idea, and while neither of them can lie with Sam in the room... one of them is less likely to tell the whole truth.

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark keeps his head down, although in an ideal situation, he'd be looking them right in the eye. God, if there's something that he can do right at this moment, now would be a nice time for it to present itself. "A long list of unfortunate circumstances, exacerbated by the fact that I'm clearly not as competent as I initially thought I was." He's well aware that's not an answer, but he's trying to figure out how to actually work around the actual answer without actually lying- then again, the truth really is bad enough without elaborate fabrication.

He forces himself to look Gwen in the eye, trying to convey a certain amount of cold placidity. "Thane wanted to send you lot a message to prevent you from crossing him again, and if I didn't prove to him that I was worth more to him alive, that message was going to be in the form of sending me back in pieces. After fourteen hours of contemplating my own execution... I told him that killing me would have no effect. I offered to trade Dmitri Lang's life for mine, but he refused that offer

[war_rani]

The Rani arrives not long after she sends her messages - just long enough to pack the mobile component of her genetics lab and find the demon Elashte's tasked with sending her over. She walks up to the door of the Tower, finds it locked, and pulls a small all-purpose component out of her pack, interfacing it with the mechanism and forcing the door. Malek, carrying Specimen 139 in his arms (as it's faster than letting her limp along behind the Rani), follows quickly and ducks inside.

Well, that's the Rani's entrance. She'd appreciate some attention. Now please.

[twdenmother]

While everyone's been distracted with Sark and Sydney, Ianto has taken notice of the new arrival.

"You're the Rani, I assume?" He gives her a cool, professional smile, betraying as little as possible of the strain he -- and everyone else -- has been under lately. "Ianto Jones, Torchwood. I'd be happy to assist you in whatever way you require."

Here, Rani. Have a very helpful faun.

[war_rani]

The Rani looks him over dispassionately. The whole goat-legged thing doesn't really bother her; it's not a species she's familiar with, but curiosity over that can wait until this annoyance is taken care of.

"Ranifer ZAAβAΣ," she confirms, scanning the building. "I'll require an empty room with nonporous flooring and walls, large enough to work in, about..." She considers for a moment, then names dimensions which probably aren't too much to ask, but might require access to one of the classrooms in the wings. "And, as soon as is possible, I need to speak with whatever person or persons is organizing the attempt to locate, contain, and deal with John Thane."

Not at their convenience. She's come all the way out here, and she's going to see this dealt with, and go back to her life.

Malek, meanwhile, is just going to stand there holding the Rani's dog and trying to look friendly.

[twdenmother]

Ianto nods, taking in that information. "That would be the Vesmier and the other Doctor, as well as Gwen Cooper. I'll get word to them that you need to speak with them. We've got some old classrooms in the wings that sound about right for what you need. If you'll follow me, please..."

He gives Malek a slightly friendlier smile -- the Rani doesn't seem the sort to have much patience with friendliness -- and starts to lead them to one of the ground-floor classroms. As he walks, he pulls out a small, leather-bound journal, and jots a quick note.