Sometime around eight in the morning, Owen Harper is in the Kashtta Tower infirmary with his back to the door, cleaning and re-dressing a set of fairly deep healing clawmarks on his forearms. He's managed to keep them out of sight so far by washing them at odd hours and wearing long-sleeve shirts, because he doesn't particularly want to have a
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He wanders into the kitchen to find chocolate or something more sugary than he needs, but stops in the doorway watching Andy work.
"What are we cooking today?" Casey smirks and steps further inside.
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"No. I've had your regular pancake, butter, and syrup with a side of sausage, bacon, and eggs. All American combo. That's about it." It's been a while since he even had that, because pancakes aren't manly! He picks up one of the bowls and eyes her with amusement. "Sunflower seeds?"
He sets the bowl back down and reaches for another, apparently, determined to question all of her choices in pancake additions or at least to identify them.
"I was working. Finally. This CLF shit has me on edge. Other than that-" I'm feeling more woman than man lately, and it's freaking me out. Casey grimaces, and then shrugs his shoulders and focuses his gaze on her. "How about yourself?"
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She trades the rubber spatula for one that's actually meant to flip things, and shrugs.
"All quiet on the Torchwood front. Well, mostly. A lot quieter than I was led to believe this job would be." She pauses. "Well, except for the fact that my sister's in town and her apartment got firebombed, so she's staying here for a while. That's always guaranteed to shake things up a little."
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She has an armful of books when she notices someone reading through the newspaper. Well. Skimming the surface. Not even skimming. It's more like treading the printed waters.
Elizabeth stops next to him and says, "You know, sir, if you're looking for something interesting to read you're not so likely to find it in there. I mean, it's the newspaper for criminey! Hardly worth more than a skim of the headlines. Gotta reach out into the archives of this place to get some real material."
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Xenopsychology is always so interesting.
He folds the newspaper back over its holder and glancing at her books long enough to ascertain that they are books. No longer. One doesn't read another's materials without permission. "What are you finding fascinating today?"
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Elizabeth practically grins at him when he asks about her books. It makes her that he should want to continue their conversation. He seems all smart. She kind of lacks in the smarts. Elizabeth pulls out the books from her stack, placing them one by one on the table in front of him.
"Let's see. There's Knitting with Dog Hair. I don't have a dog, but hey you never know when you're going to need a rope and a dog's the only thing on hand. And this one is How to Defend Yourself Against Alien Abduction by Ann Druffel. I'm thinking that's a smart skill to have. And this last one here is Nuclear War: What's in it for you? Cause ya know, I always wondered. I'll probably just skim them or read a page of each at a time. I have trouble focusing."
((OOC: They are all real!))
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"Hegel and Kierkegaard were philosophers," he says. "Kapitän is German for 'captain,' and I am not German. I am Gallifreyan." He frowns. "And are... xenoabductions a common hazard in this sector?"
That's the most he can even begin to respond to that.
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"Huh. And I thought the traveling carnival thing went out with bellbottoms," he muses, more to himself than anyone, but loud enough that Ivan can probably hear.
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"For that it may be much like your automobile," he says, gesturing to the car with his cane. "Maybe it is like this is; a - akh, shto slovo? - 'enthusiast'."
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He does, however, give Janine an affectionate pat. Out of style or not, he loves his... Horrible, horrible car.
"Retro or not, it looks like it could be a laugh," he shrugs nonchalantly. "I got a cousin who could use a few."
Why yes, Aaron does just chat animatedly with perfect strangers about things he'd probably be better off not talking about. Why would you ever think otherwise?
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And then there times when he went out with his father to hunt bears, and then there was the festival where they fed vodka to the bear. Russia is big on bears.
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She has ways of making you... let her near the animals.
Anyway. She helped. So she's in a good mood.
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He looks around at the noise, then hurriedly finishes off one bandage and tugs his sleeve down over it. The other... well. He'll just... get that done as soon as he can, why doesn't he? Very quickly.
"Abby." Don't mind the brusqueness. It's an Owen thing. "You need something?"
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Yeah, and that's brusque even for Owen. Usually he'd take the time to grumble a bit more, or at least be an ass about something.
He finishes wiping down the cuts on his right arm and takes out a few more bandages, tossing a couple of extras on the counter and making room at the sink. He doesn't need to explain these to anyone. Really. Everything is fine.
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