But it made me think of Germany and the guy who sold me cigarettes

[riversodeep]

In The Kashtta Tower, Andy Mackenzie is trying not to be too consistently paranoid in her ward's direction and has decided to make herself a cup of calming tea in the kitchen. Her wings are out, held tight against her back to keep them from twitching.

Dmitri Lang has invaded the lounge, tucking herself into a corner with a worn copy of A Brief

Comments

[howangryarethey]

Adam has more than half a million things to do, and given the advent of the campaign is near, he's got appearances to keep up and talking shop on the street is a big no-no, but, really, who is going to be paying that much attention?

Still there are things that need to be discussed and he's so rarely at headquarters these days, now's as good a time as any, so he just falls into step beside Leona, "So, I don't know if you've heard, but Romeo's having a bit of difficulty with the puppy."

It also helps to be really cryptic.

[sinsofskin]

Adam! Leona doesn't adjust her pace, but does swing a step or so to the side to let him fall more comfortably into step beside her.

"Ohh, Romeo," she croons. "Poor baby. He likes it when they're actually romanced, doesn't he?" She straightens a crick in her neck, then adjusts the fur to keep out the cold again. "He is playing a bit hard to get, isn't he? Do we have any idea why, or is it just that Cole made our first impression?"

[howangryarethey]

Adam adjusts his position a bit, looking as smug as ever, despite the snags. It's not like securing the kid's a big deal, but he's curious about him... And possibly Adam wants a baby doppelganger for his very own. Or something.

"Hard to say, really," Adam shrugs. "From what I hear, he doesn't seem to think we have much to offer him that he doesn't already have." He gives Leona a look that says exactly what he thinks of that line of bollocks. "Which is doing nothing to deter me, personally."

Then again, Adam likes being challenged.

[sinsofskin]

Leona smiles. It's a smile that, were Adam not her boss, would probably not indicate he was in a particularly good position.

Given that he is her boss, it means he might be in a very good position indeed.

"Nor should it." This is what she likes about the Organization. The people with ambition rise to the top, and the people without it get trod under. She's not above working for someone - on the contrary. Adam can help her get what she wants, and as long as that's true, he'll be able to count her solidly on his side. "The question is, when romancing him doesn't work and letting people like Cole charge in like a herd of elephants doesn't work either... well." Her hand makes a languid gesture. "One thing I know is that everyone wants something. The people who say they don't are deluding themselves."

[stopdropanddie]

Whether Dmitri's managed to get through those two chapters or not, Jack's around. He's actually just come from another investigation of Silent Hall, because it happens to be near his piano room and damned if he's not a little bit curious about what the hell's gotten into that damn hallway. Eventually, however, it started getting too creepy even for him to tolerate, so now he's hoping that meandering around the Tower with a sense of purpose will... Make it seem like he has a purpose, especially given the fact that the Tower's been a bit... Tense.

He might have actually been looking for someone else when he steps into the lounge, but, well, Dmitri might as well be one of his kids. "I have to wonder exactly what Torchwood is compensating for by having a building this unnecessarily large," he mutters, because actual greetings do not exist. Ever.

[nowinprint]

Dmitri flips the book closed. She doesn't need to mark her place; she's read it enough that she more or less knows where to find where she's stopped.

"Possibly - and this is just a guess, here - but possibly it's having a command structure that makes Argentina look like it spent the first few years of the millennium well-oiled and functional?"

She leans forward, setting her feet back on the floor and tilting her head at him. Greetings? Greetings are for the weak. And so are segues.

"Feels like hell not to be doing anything useful," she says.

Of course, what she's really saying is something much more involved than that.

[stopdropanddie]

Jack scoffs in reply, grimacing a bit. That was one thing he never actually had a problem with, even with kids like Fiona in his ranks. Even if that incident at the bank still sets his teeth on edge, he does have to hand it to Michael for being able to take charge in his absence, even if Sark was the one who had the operational control in the end.

"You should have been here when the Tower was attacked, although that was an exercise in failure I'd like to avoid repeating." Especially since it took five people to take down one very annoying creature. And, just to prove that Jack also agrees that segues are for the weak, he adds, "My offer still stands."

[nowinprint]

"And I'm thinking I'll take you up on it."

Dmitri honestly can't decide whether or not it's a rash decision. Her entire life's been more-or-less rash, though until now she's just called it instinct and went with it. She has been thinking about this - she's been turning it over in her head since Bristow made the suggestion. considering it from every angle she had.

And ultimately, none of those considerations were what swayed her. Ultimately, it was the return of one Jack Harkness, and seeing Torchwood thrown into disarray again while she stood by on the sidelines without doing a fucking thing.

It's all well and good to have friends in interesting places. Right up until you realize you can't reach them there.

[leanhungrytype]

Maybe Anka has a job in Cicero, maybe she's bored and riding taxis around to new places to avoid having to walk in this dismal cold, or maybe there's absolutely no rhyme or reason and she's just being Anka. Either way, there is an Anka in her big, furry coat seeking out sustenance. Her wings are out (all the better to recognize other demons and things with), although hidden, so she's immediately drawn to Malek. She registers him as demon and, well, he strikes as her as someone who could be a behemoth, but she can't be sure just yet.

Still she takes her rather large slices of pizza over to where he's sitting and plops down, just grinning like she knows some big secret or something.

[homoraptor]

Malek is not averse to people randomly plopping down at his tables! Especially not when said people are tiny girls who also happen to be demons.

He looks over her plate with a grin. "Looks'ike a good spot," he says, poking in the direction of one slice with his fork. Don't ask why he's using a fork on his pizza. Really, just... don't. "Ahn - know they make this'un kind, big-" He pulls his hands apart to just a bit more than the width of his plate. "Shrimp, pineapple, these - haa! Great peppers..."

[leanhungrytype]

Anka beams and bounces a little in her chair. "This is new spot for me. Very new here." She waves a hand absently. "Haven't been to this part of the city yet, no." She bites into her pizza- it's more traditional, although it takes the definition of 'meat lovers' a bit too far.

"And you'd eat that all by yourself, yes?" she asks, after she swallows, tilting her head to the side. She knows which kind of demons have to eat a ridiculous amount, and she figures he's not an Afreet. "I could, yes." She gives a firm little nod.

Because comparing food intake is so how the normal demons establish their subspecies.

[homoraptor]

"Good day, yah," Malek says, taking a rather large bit of his own pizza as if to demonstrate. The fork... the fork doesn't seem to be involved. "Nah, better to share it w'someone. Had a little friend-" he motions over the table, indicating someone about Anya's size. "Burn'd. Yah. Big cakes, big pizzas, great ice cream place na'far from here...."

Grin, Malek, grin moar. He reaches a hand over the table, offering to shake.

"Malek Asenath. Been a bit all over. Sound like you have, huh?"

[nothingsodivine]

Des is actually headed out to his office, because he still has to clean that thing up after Mathias sort of defaced the whole thing with his post-it note prank, so he sees S139 the minute he walks out the door (the doors respond with a rousing rendition of "Hungry Like the Wolf"). For once, he just ignores the music, because there's a furry face he hasn't seen in awhile! He trots over to the gate and leans over, giving her a good scritch behind the ears.

"How's it hangin', sweetie? Haven't seen you around in awhile. Hang on a tic." He walks back inside, retrieves some leftover bologna from the fridge and walks back out, serenaded each trip by more Duran Duran and offers the food out to her. It's tradition, after all!

[war_rani]

Specimen 139 starts her tail wagging, then rears up to balance her paws on Des's chest and nuzzle his chin a bit in thanks. She doesn't lick his face. It's 17° out. She licks his collar instead.

"Aaaaaouryooo!" she says, Hey, vowels are easy. Then she drops down and snaps up the bologna, chomping happily.

[nothingsodivine]

Des laughs and gives her another good scritch behind the ears, only to step back a little in surprise at the noise she just made, which... Sounds less like a howl and more like an attempt at speech, and given that she's the Doctor's Crazy Mad Scientist not-friend's dog, he has to wonder...

He peers over the gate. "Did someone teach you a new trick, Lassie, or am I losing my mind?"

[war_rani]

S139 swallows contemplatively. Maybe. She's a dog; it's hard to tell.

In any case, she tilts her head back up at Des. "Nurrrrou? Nuh - nuhh - n'huuuu." Her tongue lolls for a moment in a grin, tail still going. "Ffffhuuud. Yawm. Yawm-yawm." Grin.

It's definitely not human speech - the articulators are all wrong; labiodental sounds have been eschewed entirely in favour of bilabials, the tongue isn't nearly so articulated as a human's - but it's getting there. Maybe one day the Rani will expand S139's mind enough to process a coherent grammar, too.

[abitfoggy]

Reagan has settled back into that little coffee shop he scuttled into the day before. It's rather comfortable and quiet enough. The headaches have started back in and while he's used to them, these seem to be a little different.

He is on his way to retrieve his drinks when one particularly sharp pain strikes him and he stumbles a little bit, rubbing at his face in an absent gesture to ease the pressure. In this stumble, though, he does manage to bump right into a woman's chair. It takes a moment to register, but he's turning to murmur apologies instantly.

He'll be a little more coherent soon, Victoria Lynn, his mind is just a little jumbled at the present time.

[januarywife]

Victoria startles, but - the man is obviously in some distress. She's got no way of knowing that he's a wanderer, but one can't only tend to the chosen people. The Prophet's counselled them against that. If they're to follow the Rift to make a better world, the better world has to be better for more than just the Rift's chosen people.

She sets aside her tea and stands up, moving to steady him. "Oh, you dear, are you all right?" She may be a bit too much like everyone's mother at times, but at least she's got no shortage of maternal instinct. "Here, why don't you-" She looks around, pulls a chair up for him and tries to ease him into it. "You sit down. Are you all right?"

[abitfoggy]

Reagan finds the pain is almost blinding this time around and he's trying to wait for it to pass. He can't remember what he was trying to do (which is normal, really, even for those around him) but once he stops moving, the pain starts to fade slowly.

"Yeah, fine, really," he tries to reassure the woman, though how convincing he is can be debated. "Just a headache. They come and go, but thank you, really."

There's real sincerity to his voice, and the maternal air she has to her is almost comforting in some way. He's not ready to move, however, so he remains in the chair, almost catching his breath.

[januarywife]

She pats his hand, then turns to her purse. "Do you take anything for it?" she asks. "Ibuprofin, acetominaphen..."

She's already shaping the bottles in her mind. Over-the-counter drugs are easy to Conjure up, and she's had a lot of practice. The purse gives her the impression she's had them all along.

"I'm Victoria," she says, with a quick smile. The smile may be tighter than it really needs to be, but Victoria is always a bit serious.