[LOOK HE'S NEW]

[knows_no_nose]

For once, Erik was thrown off. He had slid back one of his numerous trap doors and no arrived where he had expected. Perhaps he was no longer mad, but had fallen into the category of stark-raving insane

Comments

[cant_shag]

Owen walked innocently down the hall. He was in his usual "oh hay I'm dead doesn't that suck" vaguely bad mood.

[knows_no_nose]

Erik watched suspiciously. Was this one of his captors?

"Parlez-vous Francais?" he asked, throwing his voice so it sounded as though he had whispered in the young man's ear.

[cant_shag]

"Gah!" Owen jumped as if someone had walked over his grave. Too bad he didn't have one :(

"the bloody hell-" he muttered. Jerking his head from side to side, he scanned the corridor. "Hello? Who's there?"

[knows_no_nose]

"English" Erik said with derision, now speaking into Owen's other ear.

"Don't you know better than to make demands of ghosts, young man?"

[morethanateaboy]

He really had the feeling that he didn't want to know. Ianto just happened to be on his way towards the library as he caught sight of Owen dragging a large - wait, was that a person? He stopped, weighing his options. Not much of a choice though, when he really didn't want Owen popping a stitch or getting hurt when he could help him. Cleaning up corpses, just like the old days. He hurried down the hall to catch up.

"Need a hand with -" Ianto paused, peering closer at the wounded (not dead). "Is that the Phantom of the Opera?"