Ianto is sitting at the front desk, as usual. He's reading over the survey forms he's recieved back. A few are proving to be very interesting, and Warren's is on that list.
This is why Ianto casts a few glances in his direction and then clears his throat.
He again doesn't react for a moment, then he raises his head enough to look at Ianto over the top of his book and raises hit hand. He snaps his wrist, and the arm is encased in flames up to the elbow. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't see the need for it.
An invitation to pester, are you sure that's a good idea? Because here comes Vyvyan.
For once he's not carrying a skeleton or actively smashing anything, just wandering around, happily munching on a bowl of cornflakes and ketchup. He leans over to look at what Warren is reading.
"Oh, God. Boring," he proclaims, heedless of the crumbs and splatters of ketchup that go flying every which way.
"You got ketchup on my book." He turns away to wipe the ketchup off as best he can, before safely stashing it in his bag. It was his dad's book and he can get a bit touchy over it.
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This is why Ianto casts a few glances in his direction and then clears his throat.
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For once he's not carrying a skeleton or actively smashing anything, just wandering around, happily munching on a bowl of cornflakes and ketchup. He leans over to look at what Warren is reading.
"Oh, God. Boring," he proclaims, heedless of the crumbs and splatters of ketchup that go flying every which way.
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"What was that for, you bastard?"
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