Comments | beyondtherift: I still need the beauty of words sung and spoken, and I live with the fear my spirit will be broken

torchwoodsheart in beyondtherift

I still need the beauty of words sung and spoken, and I live with the fear my spirit will be broken

Aug 16, 2009 17:24

Gwen is standing alone on the pier, looking not out over the water but back, toward the city skyline. It's her birthday today. This time last year, she killed herself, a younger and scared and more innocent self. This time last year was before the archangels attacked, before Romana Fell, before Jack left and everything went to hell. A part of her ( Read more... )

gwen cooper, piper paxton, marc lucas, malek asenath, ianto jones

Comments 27

homoraptor August 17 2009, 14:43:46 UTC

This time this year, she gets run over by a crazy demon.

Fortunately he's not in a car at the moment. Malek is just darting out of a back entrance to a shop like a frog out of scalding water, barefoot and, if one looks closely, actually wearing nothing other than a snapped-up leather trenchcoat. There's also the faintest of traces of black blood at the corner of his mouth, and a small splatter of it across one shoulder of his coat.

And a bulging paper bag tucked under his arm.

...the bag isn't related to the blood. The bag is full of perfectly legitimate purchases. The blood is just because sometimes stupid temes get the urge to fuck with your head if they don't approve of the Lebanese or people who speak a variant of English that obeys no sane dialectic laws or men who sleep with men or whatever their excuse was on that day - it doesn't really matter; the upshot is that it's necessary to raptor out and give them a good bite and then one needs to clear the area, and in the clearing of the area, one might get a bit distracted ( ... )

torchwoodsheart August 17 2009, 20:14:05 UTC

Gwen stumbles a little, tensing momentarily - somewhere in the back of her mind, she's kind of expecting something to go wrong today. It becomes apparent fairly quickly, though, that this is not an attack of any sort. She knows him, though it takes her a second to work out why. But how many large, Lebanese, trenchcoat-wearing demons do you meet, really, even in Chicago?

"You were one of J- You knew Jack, didn't you?" That's where she knows him from, the fight at the Kashtta, and at the Main Gauche after... "I'm Gwen, with Torchwood, and - are you alright?" She's not sure if that's his blood or someone else's, and is not positive she wants to know.

homoraptor August 17 2009, 20:38:15 UTC

Malek blinks, leaning down to quirk his head at her and then breaking into a grin. "Awt, att'd it!" He shoves his hand into his pocket, bouncing a bit on his bare feet. "Onna 'is kids, eh? Good t'see still knockin' 'round."

He looks a little surprised at that question. He's a behemoth demon. In what country is it normal to ask if one's alright, after knowing that fact? They're always alright. Or something.

"Top t'world," he says. "Ehht. Got in a bit of scuffle - good, though. I won." See the grin? See the little residue of black blood between the teeth? This is the sign to stop asking. "An' you, t'en? Moping about?" He bops her chin with one knuckle. Personal space is for people who aren't him. "Tell'em there's not anoth' bunch o'archs on y'tail."

torchwoodsheart August 17 2009, 22:27:08 UTC

Gwen just stares at him for a moment in mild bemusement, smiling just a little because it's hard not to, with him. He just... bopped her on the chin. Okay, that's not something that happens to her every day, especially not with very friendly demons and... okay. She's just going with this.

"I- no, we haven't had any trouble with the angels since then." They've been dealing with... other things. "It's been quiet lately." For once, there is no dire Torchwood business to deal with. Gwen's going to enjoy that while she can.

Thread 9

raaaghsoangreh August 17 2009, 21:13:58 UTC

So there's a guy, sitting on a car. It's not his car. He's just sitting on it. He looks angry. (Or, perhaps better said, ANGREH.)

The thing about Marc is that he really is a decent guy underneath his Rift-imposed mood disorder. Really. So when he sees a woman walking down the street looking pretty unhappy, his first instinct is to try and help. And then rational thought tells him he's a huge scary guy who's way too pissed off, and he doesn't even have the general aura of 'nice and harmless' working for him anymore.

This just pisses him off more.

So he settles for remaining on the car, not moving in case she gets freaked out, and saying, as softly as he can manage, "So, has this fucking city been crapping all over your life, too, or is it just one of those bad day things?"

There's no shouting. The narration is impressed.

torchwoodsheart August 17 2009, 23:47:56 UTC

Gwen blinks, turning toward the man and raising her eyebrows a little. "Bad year, actually. But Chicago does that to everyone, so I'm trying not to take it personally." Even if it happens to her and her team more than anyone else, it seems. That's just part of being Torchwood.

raaaghsoangreh August 19 2009, 03:15:32 UTC

"Everyone who's not a local, at least. You end up here really fucking unexpectedly, too?"

Marc scowls at the ground. He's been homeless for a while -- yeah, he knows about safe places to go, but is he gonna subject other people to himself on a regular basis? FUCK NO.

"Me, I ended up in Chicago, I got a fucking MOOD DISORDER," he snarls. "I was happy. I was FUCKING ZEN. Girlfriend, cats, I was a fucking PACIFIST. And then here I am in THIS fucking place, where my brain suddenly can't process HAPPINESS or even relative CALM. You ever tried to meditate when all you wanna do is find whoever brought you here you here and PUNCH THEM IN THE FA--"

He cuts off abruptly. "FUCK. See, there it goes. You're having a shitty day -- shitty YEAR -- already. Sorry."

He's just gonna... Keep glaring at the ground like he could bore a hole through it with the force of his hatred. Yeah, there's a plan. Better than making eye contact and making the poor girl think he's pissed at her.

torchwoodsheart August 21 2009, 19:49:51 UTC

"You could say that," Gwen allows with a tiny smile. Talking about the Rift with strangers out in public is always a tricky business, but she thinks he really is a wanderer, not CLF, and if he is trouble... Well. She is armed.

She moves a little closer, because... Alright, he's clearly very angry, but it's not his fault, and he doesn't seem angry at her... "Have you talked to anyone? There are people... psychics?" Certain demons, if it really came down to it...

savesomelight August 18 2009, 21:57:50 UTC

The best part of Aaron showing up at the Gauche is that he has a car and can (and will) happily take Piper into the city whenever she wants to get away for a bit. Today, he dropped her off at the pier and she's finally working her way back to the place where she's supposed to meet Aaron with a bag of cotton candy in hand, looking generally pleased with life.

...The lady walking ahead of her, however, looks less than pleased with life. Piper frowns and speeds up to walk beside her, offering her the bag. "You look like you could use some of this."

She might be projecting juuust a bit. It's been a good day. Piper just likes to make people happy. THERE IS NOTHING SKETCHY ABOUT THIS.

torchwoodsheart August 18 2009, 23:06:00 UTC

Gwen blinks at her. Even in Chicago, it seems, there are people willing to be friendly to random strangers. Also, given the candy floss, she's probably on a sugar high...

"...thank you," she says with a faint smile. "But I'm fine, honestly. It's just been..." A long week. Month. Year. Whatever.

Though Gwen doesn't notice consciously, all that happy Piper's projecting hits Gwen's mind and rebounds gently off an invisible wall without touching Gwen in the least.

savesomelight August 19 2009, 03:20:14 UTC

And suddenly Piper stops abruptly, drops the bag, and backs away slowly, blushing and stammering.

"Oh dear. Oh jeepers, I am so, so sorry, ma'am. I didn't know. I didn't mean... It's not... I just... I-I was only..."

Because clearly if someone is blocking something like that, they must have known she was doing it. She's never met anyone who could block before. Not her anyway. And now she's feeling a bit bad about it... Which she'd question if she were thinking about it. Is it only not wrong if you don't get caught?

torchwoodsheart August 21 2009, 19:34:26 UTC

And now Gwen stops, and stares at her. She has no bloody idea what just happened, but apparently this girl's very distressed about it, and...

"Alright, just stop... stop apologising for a second and tell me... why you're apologising?" she says calmly. Look at her face, Piper. Is this the face of an annoyed psychic?

Thread 10

twdenmother August 19 2009, 03:04:49 UTC

When Gwen arrives at the Tower, there might just be a certain faun waiting up... a faun with Chinese takeout, a largish bottle of plum wine, and a bouquet of daisies.

...He may just have bribed someone with a normal humanoid shape to go out and get some things for Gwen's birthday.

Of course he remembered.

torchwoodsheart August 19 2009, 05:03:30 UTC

Gwen stops when she sees Ianto, a slow smile spreading over her face. She hadn't really expected anyone to remember - in retrospect, that was a little silly. Ianto knows and remembers everything.

"Should I ask how long you've been waiting here?"

twdenmother August 19 2009, 05:24:56 UTC

Ianto smiles back when he sees her face -- Gwen's had so few reasons to smile lately, and while he's hardly Dmitri Lang, he doesn't mind spreading a bit of cheer now and then, when the situation calls for it.

"Not long. I thought perhaps you'd like to wander a bit, if you'll excuse the term. The food's still warm."

torchwoodsheart August 21 2009, 19:25:40 UTC

She beams, and walks over to kiss his cheek. "Have I mentioned lately that you're wonderful?"

Not only does she not know what she'd do without him (except where she does, and that month or so in Cardiff without him was the worst of her life), but he brings her flowers and wine and food. She'd snog him properly for that, if it wouldn't just make him flail (albeit adorably).