Fanfic - The Colonisation of Captain Jack [Torchwood: Team-fic]
Title: The Colonisation of Captain Jack
Rating(s): PG-13
Pairing(s)/Characters(s): Team-fic, minor mention of Jack/Ianto
Summary: Over the years, the Cardiff police department had learned that when Torchwood showed up, Strange Things happened. Nothing had prepared them for the sight of Captain Jack Harkness wearing what appeared to be a heavily graffiti-ed version of his usual getup.
Author's Notes: Craaaaaack.
I blame this all on Areale. “Areale, give me an idea for an alien,” I said. “Graffiti,” she said. “What,” I said. And thus was born this fic.
The Colonisation of Captain Jack
“Is that a hallucinogenic he’s carrying?” Ianto asked.
Owen tapped his fingers on the desk, his eyes full of suspicion. “It might be.”
“We’re dealing with alien hallucinogenics now?” Toshiko asked.
“Might not be much of a change from aliens on human hallucinogenics,” Gwen observed.
“It does beg the question of why Jack’s attempting to get us all high on alien drugs, though,” Ianto commented.
They all turned to look at Jack, who stood before them with his arms crossed over his chest, one foot tapping the floor impatiently. “Are you done?” he asked, and ploughed on without waiting for an answer. “Right. Owen, I need you to run an analysis on this sample. It’s not paint, it’s organic… ish, so be careful with it.” He tossed the bagged plastic tube onto the table. “Toshiko, Gwen, go check the usual channels, see if anyone’s complaining about graffiti that doesn’t come off the walls. Ianto -”
Ianto raised an eyebrow.
Jack sighed. “Coffee?” he asked. “Please?”
“This had best not be permanent,” Ianto commented, setting down the coffee cup. Jack dove into it with the fervour of a man wishing desperately that he’d never gotten out of bed that morning.
“I think I know what they are,” Jack said, after draining half his mug in one long swallow. “I just need to see what Owen comes up with first.”
“And your guess is?” Ianto asked.
“Lndjwlsm,” Jack said. Ianto automatically dubbed them the Lindies in his mind. “Though what they’re doing here is anyone’s guess.”
“And they’re… graffiti,” Ianto said, glancing over at the wall.
Jack’s face became, if possible, even more despondent. “Sort of,” he said. “They live in solids - anything solid, concrete, ceramic, whatever, anything non-living. Move right through it like we move through air.”
Ianto considered that for a moment. “Then how were you able to get your hands on that one alien?”
“Eh?” Jack blinked in confusion.
“The sample Owen’s analysing,” Ianto elaborated.
“Oh, that,” Jack said. “It’s not a Lndjwlsm, it’s just… um, residue.”
“I have a niggling suspicion that ‘residue’ is a euphemism for something else,” Ianto said.
“Maybe?” Jack hazarded, giving Ianto an innocent smile.
“Jack,” Ianto said. “Is Owen currently running an analysis on alien scat?”
“Graffiti alien scat,” Jack said with relish. “Are you going to tell him?”
“… No. So, what are they doing here?”
“Hopping through walls searching for food,” Jack said, shrugging. “It’s what drives most of them, they like good food.”
“That’s an important word there,” Ianto said, mentally re-dubbing them the Lindy Hoppers. “Food. And what do they feed off?”
Jack took a big gulp of coffee. “Fermns,” he mumbled.
“Let’s try that again,” Ianto suggested. “In English this time.”
“Pheromones,” Jack sighed.
“Pheromones,” Ianto repeated.
“Well, most kinds of emotions, actually. Or not emotions, but you know, the chemicals, the scents you give off when you’re feeling certain emotions,” Jack explained. “They like the taste of dissent.”
“Hence all that graffiti around the university,” Ianto supplied.
“Exactly,” Jack said. “They also like, uh, pheromones. Um, a lot.”
“Hence all that graffiti following you from room to room,” Ianto continued, completely straight-faced.
Jack gave him a distinctly betrayed look.
Ianto coughed. “I’ll - ah, go see if Tosh needs any help,” he said, and made his escape.
Jack listened to the muted laughter outside his office and wished he had more coffee.
Owen’s analysis of the sample Jack had provided took another couple of hours. In that time, the Lindy Hoppers discovered that it was far more efficient to swarm over Jack’s clothing rather than merely remaining on the walls of his office. Ianto took one look at the graffiti lining the collar of Jack’s greatcoat (“Scent’s always strong around the neck,” Jack explained sadly), and declared war.
Unfortunately for Ianto, the war had to be postponed when a call came in about a couple of rogue Weevils down at one of the local bars. Possible rogue Weevils, anyway. Half-drunk, hysterical people weren’t the best references, but the (mostly) sober pub owner corroborated everything his patrons had said in the police report.
Over the years, the Cardiff police department had learned that when Torchwood showed up, Strange Things happened. Nothing had prepared them for the sight of Captain Jack Harkness wearing what appeared to be a heavily graffiti-ed version of his usual getup.
“He been bargain bin hunting?” one of the officers enquired of Ianto. Later, he would swear up and down to his colleagues that the mildest, gentlest-looking one of the lot had fairly bitten his ear off, a somewhat homicidal look in his eyes.
The police were duly sent off and the Weevils rounded up. The team trooped back to the van, trailing graffiti, and headed back to base.
The Lindy Hoppers had been temporarily distracted by the Weevils, but rapidly grew bored with them and reattached themselves to Jack’s greatcoat. At some point, they appeared to have learned English, because they’d begun spelling out “Free food!” and “All you can eat buffet!” across the greatcoat.
Ianto wasn’t exactly sure it was inaccurate, but that wasn’t the point. He stalked up to the coffee-maker and Plotted. The anti-Weevil spray they’d just been using had given him the beginnings of an idea.
“Okay,” Owen said. “I’ve analysed the sample, and these are the results.” He tapped a key on the laptop, and a graph popped up on the screen.
“That’s a very pretty picture,” Toshiko said. “What does it mean?”
“Not a whole lot,” Owen admitted. “Similar kind of chemical breakdown as a couple of other beasties we have in the system. I’ve been trying to run a comparison, and I think I might be able to synthesise something we could use as bait.”
“Something more attractive than me?” Jack asked hopefully, then frowned. “Wait, that came out wrong.”
“Oh, it came out fine,” Owen replied.
“Bait’s useless without a trap of some sort,” Ianto pointed out. “Also, it occurs to me that we’re discussing plans to trap the Lin - uh, the aliens - right in front of them.”
The team turned to look at Jack. Jack looked back blankly.
“Oh, come on!” Jack protested loudly from his office. “This is not fair!”
“What are the other creatures you found that were similar?” Gwen asked, pacing the length of the conference room. “Maybe we could experiment with traps based on that data.”
“Yeah, I’ve got the info here,” Owen said, pulling it up on the large screen so that they could all see it. “I’m not really sure where to go with that, though.”
“Organic trap?” Toshiko suggested. “There was that thing a couple of months ago, remember, it spat glue or something?”
“Held its victims hostage until it applied another liquid from its claws,” Ianto said thoughtfully. “The principle’s sound, but we need something that is capable of holding them. Remember, they can travel through solids, so the trap can’t be something they can pass through. I was thinking we might want to look into substances that act as deterrents. If we construct the walls of a trap out of something they don’t like getting near…”
“Can they move through liquids?” Toshiko asked. “Maybe we could just dump them in a tank.”
“Or maybe we can combine those ideas,” Owen said. “Let’s do a quick experiment first. Who wants to throw Jack off the pier?”
“It’s abuse, I’m telling you,” Jack complained through chattering teeth. “Abuse, pure and simple. What did I ever do to you? Other than, you know, recruit you.”
Ianto scooped up a handful of lukewarm water and splashed it carefully over Jack’s neck, letting his hands linger on chilled skin.
“The things that go in the bay, I don’t want to think about,” Jack said. “Seriously. I’m open to most things, but that? No, not nice. I cannot find the nice in that. That is because there is no nice in that. There is only evilness. Sadism. Cruelty. I need more synonyms.”
“In my defence, I didn’t think Owen was serious,” Ianto said.
“See, that would sound a lot better if you’d stop grinning,” Jack said, and subsided into a sulk.
The moment Jack was dry and dressed, the Lindy Hoppers swarmed up his clothes again and settled back into place. They appeared somewhat disgruntled after their impromptu dunking, but at least the team had gotten the results they were after.
It didn’t take Owen long to synthesise the compounds they needed. With Toshiko’s help, he was able to produce the right quantities and construct their rather simple little trap.
“Why am I the bait?” Gwen asked in a slightly panicked voice.
“Because,” Owen said.
“I have to monitor the readings,” Toshiko said apologetically.
“Really, it’s just hazing,” Ianto said. “You should see what they used to make me do before you joined.”
“Can we please hire someone else?” Gwen asked plaintively, but allowed Owen to fasten the tubes of scent to her arms.
“I think we’re set,” Owen said, checking the hinges of the door Gwen was standing atop. He fished out his phone and hit the speed-dial. “Where are you?” he asked when Jack picked up. There was a moment’s silence, followed by a wince and a “Well, you can come up now.”
“Where was he?” Ianto asked warily.
“Nowhere, nowhere at all,” Owen said uneasily.
“He was in the archives, wasn’t he,” Ianto said. Owen cringed. “I had two weeks of unsorted material I was working on there. He’ll have had his paws in them, I know it.”
“Know what?” Jack asked jovially, coming up behind them.
Ianto pinned him with a lethal look. “That pending confirmation of my suspicions, you’re dead,” he said. “Now go over to Gwen.”
Jack walked over to Gwen perhaps a little more quickly than normal. The moment he got to within ten feet of her, the graffiti started quivering. Then, as one, it all started to flow off his clothes, sliding through his coat and trousers and shoes, into the floor and up towards a resigned-looking Gwen.
“About now’s good,” Toshiko observed, and Owen pressed a button.
It was all over rather quickly.
“Bubbles,” Jack said in disbelief.
“Bubbles,” Gwen confirmed, towelling off her hair. “That’s what gave us the idea, anyway. The aliens didn’t like the water much - they moved through it pretty slowly trying to get back up to land. We figured we could use that to buy time to activate the trap.”
“The actual bubble layer is made of a compound they seem to find quite repulsive,” Ianto explained. “It was used as a deterrent on a few other similar species, so we made an educated guess based on the analysis of the sample you brought us.”
“Gwen was standing on top of the tank, and the moment the aliens were all on the lid, we popped it open and dropped the whole lot in,” Toshiko continued. “While they were trying to get to the walls, we pulled Gwen out and injected the deterrent layer around them. They’re stuck in that bubble of water until we apply the counter-agent.”
“Now we just need to figure out what to do with them,” Ianto said.
“Now, that I can help with,” Jack said smugly. “While you oh-so-cruelly kicked me out of the discussion, I was doing a little research of my own.”
Ianto closed his eyes and took a moment to offer condolences to himself over the probable state of his workstation.
“I managed to contact someone who’ll be able to take these guys off our hands,” Jack said. “And chances are they’ll be terrified into never coming back again.”
“The Doctor?” Ianto asked uncomfortably.
“Worse,” Jack said gleefully. “I called their mum.”
The Lindy Hoppers were teenagers. Learning this fact did nothing to help the rather strange mental image Ianto was constructing of them.
The Torchwood team watched in silent bemusement as a painting of a classical-style lady man(paint?)handled the sluggish graffiti into the most peculiar spacecraft any of them had ever seen.
[I apologise if my children caused any trouble,] a speech bubble informed them.
“No harm done this time,” Jack said. “Just mind they don’t come back.”
[Oh, they won’t,] another speech bubble read. [They’ll be cleaning the filthiest landscapes I can find till they’re fifty, mark my words.]
“All right then,” Jack said, sticking his hands in his pockets and smiling his most charming smile. “It was nice meeting you!”
[And you,] a last speech bubble read. [I must say, you taste delicious! Thank you for the meal!]
The spaceship (which resembled nothing so much as a portrait frame) took off. There was absolute silence for a while.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Jack said presently, “But I feel rather… used.”
“If the mother was a Renaissance-style painting,” Ianto mused, “And the children were graffiti-style art and scribbles…”
“Don’t finish that question,” Toshiko said. “I have no desire to speculate on what the father looked like.”
“How do they even reproduce?” Ianto asked absently. “Wait, we’re talking Renaissance paintings, so maybe the nudes would -”
“Oh my god, stop,” Gwen said, grinning. “Ally wants me to go to an art exhibition with her this weekend, so - just - stop putting ideas in my head.”
Ianto gave her his most solemn look. “I do hope you enjoy yourself then,” he said. “And keep an eye out for any moving paintings.”
~fin
Rating(s): PG-13
Pairing(s)/Characters(s): Team-fic, minor mention of Jack/Ianto
Summary: Over the years, the Cardiff police department had learned that when Torchwood showed up, Strange Things happened. Nothing had prepared them for the sight of Captain Jack Harkness wearing what appeared to be a heavily graffiti-ed version of his usual getup.
Author's Notes: Craaaaaack.
I blame this all on Areale. “Areale, give me an idea for an alien,” I said. “Graffiti,” she said. “What,” I said. And thus was born this fic.
The Colonisation of Captain Jack
“Is that a hallucinogenic he’s carrying?” Ianto asked.
Owen tapped his fingers on the desk, his eyes full of suspicion. “It might be.”
“We’re dealing with alien hallucinogenics now?” Toshiko asked.
“Might not be much of a change from aliens on human hallucinogenics,” Gwen observed.
“It does beg the question of why Jack’s attempting to get us all high on alien drugs, though,” Ianto commented.
They all turned to look at Jack, who stood before them with his arms crossed over his chest, one foot tapping the floor impatiently. “Are you done?” he asked, and ploughed on without waiting for an answer. “Right. Owen, I need you to run an analysis on this sample. It’s not paint, it’s organic… ish, so be careful with it.” He tossed the bagged plastic tube onto the table. “Toshiko, Gwen, go check the usual channels, see if anyone’s complaining about graffiti that doesn’t come off the walls. Ianto -”
Ianto raised an eyebrow.
Jack sighed. “Coffee?” he asked. “Please?”
“This had best not be permanent,” Ianto commented, setting down the coffee cup. Jack dove into it with the fervour of a man wishing desperately that he’d never gotten out of bed that morning.
“I think I know what they are,” Jack said, after draining half his mug in one long swallow. “I just need to see what Owen comes up with first.”
“And your guess is?” Ianto asked.
“Lndjwlsm,” Jack said. Ianto automatically dubbed them the Lindies in his mind. “Though what they’re doing here is anyone’s guess.”
“And they’re… graffiti,” Ianto said, glancing over at the wall.
Jack’s face became, if possible, even more despondent. “Sort of,” he said. “They live in solids - anything solid, concrete, ceramic, whatever, anything non-living. Move right through it like we move through air.”
Ianto considered that for a moment. “Then how were you able to get your hands on that one alien?”
“Eh?” Jack blinked in confusion.
“The sample Owen’s analysing,” Ianto elaborated.
“Oh, that,” Jack said. “It’s not a Lndjwlsm, it’s just… um, residue.”
“I have a niggling suspicion that ‘residue’ is a euphemism for something else,” Ianto said.
“Maybe?” Jack hazarded, giving Ianto an innocent smile.
“Jack,” Ianto said. “Is Owen currently running an analysis on alien scat?”
“Graffiti alien scat,” Jack said with relish. “Are you going to tell him?”
“… No. So, what are they doing here?”
“Hopping through walls searching for food,” Jack said, shrugging. “It’s what drives most of them, they like good food.”
“That’s an important word there,” Ianto said, mentally re-dubbing them the Lindy Hoppers. “Food. And what do they feed off?”
Jack took a big gulp of coffee. “Fermns,” he mumbled.
“Let’s try that again,” Ianto suggested. “In English this time.”
“Pheromones,” Jack sighed.
“Pheromones,” Ianto repeated.
“Well, most kinds of emotions, actually. Or not emotions, but you know, the chemicals, the scents you give off when you’re feeling certain emotions,” Jack explained. “They like the taste of dissent.”
“Hence all that graffiti around the university,” Ianto supplied.
“Exactly,” Jack said. “They also like, uh, pheromones. Um, a lot.”
“Hence all that graffiti following you from room to room,” Ianto continued, completely straight-faced.
Jack gave him a distinctly betrayed look.
Ianto coughed. “I’ll - ah, go see if Tosh needs any help,” he said, and made his escape.
Jack listened to the muted laughter outside his office and wished he had more coffee.
Owen’s analysis of the sample Jack had provided took another couple of hours. In that time, the Lindy Hoppers discovered that it was far more efficient to swarm over Jack’s clothing rather than merely remaining on the walls of his office. Ianto took one look at the graffiti lining the collar of Jack’s greatcoat (“Scent’s always strong around the neck,” Jack explained sadly), and declared war.
Unfortunately for Ianto, the war had to be postponed when a call came in about a couple of rogue Weevils down at one of the local bars. Possible rogue Weevils, anyway. Half-drunk, hysterical people weren’t the best references, but the (mostly) sober pub owner corroborated everything his patrons had said in the police report.
Over the years, the Cardiff police department had learned that when Torchwood showed up, Strange Things happened. Nothing had prepared them for the sight of Captain Jack Harkness wearing what appeared to be a heavily graffiti-ed version of his usual getup.
“He been bargain bin hunting?” one of the officers enquired of Ianto. Later, he would swear up and down to his colleagues that the mildest, gentlest-looking one of the lot had fairly bitten his ear off, a somewhat homicidal look in his eyes.
The police were duly sent off and the Weevils rounded up. The team trooped back to the van, trailing graffiti, and headed back to base.
The Lindy Hoppers had been temporarily distracted by the Weevils, but rapidly grew bored with them and reattached themselves to Jack’s greatcoat. At some point, they appeared to have learned English, because they’d begun spelling out “Free food!” and “All you can eat buffet!” across the greatcoat.
Ianto wasn’t exactly sure it was inaccurate, but that wasn’t the point. He stalked up to the coffee-maker and Plotted. The anti-Weevil spray they’d just been using had given him the beginnings of an idea.
“Okay,” Owen said. “I’ve analysed the sample, and these are the results.” He tapped a key on the laptop, and a graph popped up on the screen.
“That’s a very pretty picture,” Toshiko said. “What does it mean?”
“Not a whole lot,” Owen admitted. “Similar kind of chemical breakdown as a couple of other beasties we have in the system. I’ve been trying to run a comparison, and I think I might be able to synthesise something we could use as bait.”
“Something more attractive than me?” Jack asked hopefully, then frowned. “Wait, that came out wrong.”
“Oh, it came out fine,” Owen replied.
“Bait’s useless without a trap of some sort,” Ianto pointed out. “Also, it occurs to me that we’re discussing plans to trap the Lin - uh, the aliens - right in front of them.”
The team turned to look at Jack. Jack looked back blankly.
“Oh, come on!” Jack protested loudly from his office. “This is not fair!”
“What are the other creatures you found that were similar?” Gwen asked, pacing the length of the conference room. “Maybe we could experiment with traps based on that data.”
“Yeah, I’ve got the info here,” Owen said, pulling it up on the large screen so that they could all see it. “I’m not really sure where to go with that, though.”
“Organic trap?” Toshiko suggested. “There was that thing a couple of months ago, remember, it spat glue or something?”
“Held its victims hostage until it applied another liquid from its claws,” Ianto said thoughtfully. “The principle’s sound, but we need something that is capable of holding them. Remember, they can travel through solids, so the trap can’t be something they can pass through. I was thinking we might want to look into substances that act as deterrents. If we construct the walls of a trap out of something they don’t like getting near…”
“Can they move through liquids?” Toshiko asked. “Maybe we could just dump them in a tank.”
“Or maybe we can combine those ideas,” Owen said. “Let’s do a quick experiment first. Who wants to throw Jack off the pier?”
“It’s abuse, I’m telling you,” Jack complained through chattering teeth. “Abuse, pure and simple. What did I ever do to you? Other than, you know, recruit you.”
Ianto scooped up a handful of lukewarm water and splashed it carefully over Jack’s neck, letting his hands linger on chilled skin.
“The things that go in the bay, I don’t want to think about,” Jack said. “Seriously. I’m open to most things, but that? No, not nice. I cannot find the nice in that. That is because there is no nice in that. There is only evilness. Sadism. Cruelty. I need more synonyms.”
“In my defence, I didn’t think Owen was serious,” Ianto said.
“See, that would sound a lot better if you’d stop grinning,” Jack said, and subsided into a sulk.
The moment Jack was dry and dressed, the Lindy Hoppers swarmed up his clothes again and settled back into place. They appeared somewhat disgruntled after their impromptu dunking, but at least the team had gotten the results they were after.
It didn’t take Owen long to synthesise the compounds they needed. With Toshiko’s help, he was able to produce the right quantities and construct their rather simple little trap.
“Why am I the bait?” Gwen asked in a slightly panicked voice.
“Because,” Owen said.
“I have to monitor the readings,” Toshiko said apologetically.
“Really, it’s just hazing,” Ianto said. “You should see what they used to make me do before you joined.”
“Can we please hire someone else?” Gwen asked plaintively, but allowed Owen to fasten the tubes of scent to her arms.
“I think we’re set,” Owen said, checking the hinges of the door Gwen was standing atop. He fished out his phone and hit the speed-dial. “Where are you?” he asked when Jack picked up. There was a moment’s silence, followed by a wince and a “Well, you can come up now.”
“Where was he?” Ianto asked warily.
“Nowhere, nowhere at all,” Owen said uneasily.
“He was in the archives, wasn’t he,” Ianto said. Owen cringed. “I had two weeks of unsorted material I was working on there. He’ll have had his paws in them, I know it.”
“Know what?” Jack asked jovially, coming up behind them.
Ianto pinned him with a lethal look. “That pending confirmation of my suspicions, you’re dead,” he said. “Now go over to Gwen.”
Jack walked over to Gwen perhaps a little more quickly than normal. The moment he got to within ten feet of her, the graffiti started quivering. Then, as one, it all started to flow off his clothes, sliding through his coat and trousers and shoes, into the floor and up towards a resigned-looking Gwen.
“About now’s good,” Toshiko observed, and Owen pressed a button.
It was all over rather quickly.
“Bubbles,” Jack said in disbelief.
“Bubbles,” Gwen confirmed, towelling off her hair. “That’s what gave us the idea, anyway. The aliens didn’t like the water much - they moved through it pretty slowly trying to get back up to land. We figured we could use that to buy time to activate the trap.”
“The actual bubble layer is made of a compound they seem to find quite repulsive,” Ianto explained. “It was used as a deterrent on a few other similar species, so we made an educated guess based on the analysis of the sample you brought us.”
“Gwen was standing on top of the tank, and the moment the aliens were all on the lid, we popped it open and dropped the whole lot in,” Toshiko continued. “While they were trying to get to the walls, we pulled Gwen out and injected the deterrent layer around them. They’re stuck in that bubble of water until we apply the counter-agent.”
“Now we just need to figure out what to do with them,” Ianto said.
“Now, that I can help with,” Jack said smugly. “While you oh-so-cruelly kicked me out of the discussion, I was doing a little research of my own.”
Ianto closed his eyes and took a moment to offer condolences to himself over the probable state of his workstation.
“I managed to contact someone who’ll be able to take these guys off our hands,” Jack said. “And chances are they’ll be terrified into never coming back again.”
“The Doctor?” Ianto asked uncomfortably.
“Worse,” Jack said gleefully. “I called their mum.”
The Lindy Hoppers were teenagers. Learning this fact did nothing to help the rather strange mental image Ianto was constructing of them.
The Torchwood team watched in silent bemusement as a painting of a classical-style lady man(paint?)handled the sluggish graffiti into the most peculiar spacecraft any of them had ever seen.
[I apologise if my children caused any trouble,] a speech bubble informed them.
“No harm done this time,” Jack said. “Just mind they don’t come back.”
[Oh, they won’t,] another speech bubble read. [They’ll be cleaning the filthiest landscapes I can find till they’re fifty, mark my words.]
“All right then,” Jack said, sticking his hands in his pockets and smiling his most charming smile. “It was nice meeting you!”
[And you,] a last speech bubble read. [I must say, you taste delicious! Thank you for the meal!]
The spaceship (which resembled nothing so much as a portrait frame) took off. There was absolute silence for a while.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Jack said presently, “But I feel rather… used.”
“If the mother was a Renaissance-style painting,” Ianto mused, “And the children were graffiti-style art and scribbles…”
“Don’t finish that question,” Toshiko said. “I have no desire to speculate on what the father looked like.”
“How do they even reproduce?” Ianto asked absently. “Wait, we’re talking Renaissance paintings, so maybe the nudes would -”
“Oh my god, stop,” Gwen said, grinning. “Ally wants me to go to an art exhibition with her this weekend, so - just - stop putting ideas in my head.”
Ianto gave her his most solemn look. “I do hope you enjoy yourself then,” he said. “And keep an eye out for any moving paintings.”
~fin