Interlude

Torchwood Ten, an organization dedictated to defending England against the future. Because the 21st Century is when it all changed.

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Interlude

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:15 pm

Without really looking up, Derowen pointed in his direction and called "Doran. Put it out. We do not want the fire suppressant to go off thanks. Last thing we need is the Ecaro-25 to kick off and deplete our air supply."

She walked over to Mama Squidly and prodded her gently. She rolled the main body out of the way to see who was underneath. Thankfully (for you lot) it turned out to be a couple of the tentacles that had rolled up in such a way to appear close enough to a body shape. "All Clear!"

Standing up, she looked at her top on disgust and pulled it off. "I'm going to get changed, Torchwood, take Mama back to her baby please. She will wake up soon. Mines a vodka and tonic today. Double."

She picked her way over the debris to her door. The body of Mama Squidly rose a few feet from the ground and floated towards the cell levels. Although singed around the edges, her tentacles were already beginning to twitch.

TAG - all.
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"Oh Bother." Said The Borg. "We've assimilated Pooh."
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Doran

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:17 pm

"Shove it." Doran headed for the nearest exit. Just how f**king stupid does she think I am, half a ton of smoking calimari, cordite - or whatever the hell came out of guns, the smoke from Forbes' mighty zap, and a cigarette would set off the fire suppression system. Each time one of them let a glimpse of humanity show, they went and s**t on it. The Captain had screwed him over good and proper, these 'dults were all the same, that had clearly been his plan. Serves me right for trusting someone. She and this bunch of pissant golfers could definitely shove it.

Outside in Piccadilly Doran took a last drag on his cigarette, and tossed his phone in the nearest rubbish bin.
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Rick

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:18 pm

Rick Stowell carefully climbed out from under the workstation. He winced as his knee impacted on some broken glass.

"What.... " He coughed and swallowed - trying to ignore the coppery taste - as he barely controlled the urge to vomit.

"What just happened? And can we stop it happening again? "

He looked at the dissipating cloud and scowled

"And just as a nod to various scientific theories... what's .... What is happening there?"

"You're going to need more than just cleaners. Have you got a full Hazmat decontamination squad? Whatever's happening there.... it's not exactly sanitary"

"You also need to buy some LCD screens... better circuit breakers would be a good idea too. When was this place last re-wired? The 1940's?"

"And I don't know about you people. But I REALLY need a drink"

Derowen laughed. She stopped just in front of her door.
"I'll answer some of your questions more fully when I have a chance to get changed. But briefly and in order.. Mayhem. No. More mayhem. Yes. I don't remember. No, later than the 1940's. we jury rigged something in the 1990's. I think I would like a vodka now."

She turned and headed through her door.

TAG - all. We're going to hit the town folks.
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Fred

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:19 pm

Grace frowned. "Did you guys come down in the lift?"

"The Weevil should still be unconscious from the sedative I gave him. You all can go out and have something to eat, I think I want to stay in for a bit."


"If it's all the same with you, I'd rather get it into one of the cells now." Fred said as he walked over to the lift. He pressed the up button next to the lift doors. Once they opened Fred looked down to see it sprawled on the floor of the lift where it had been dumped.

Fred picked it up and followed Mama and Torchwood down to the cells. He watched as Torchwood disposed of Mama into a cell with a small creature in it, before putting the Weevil into the next cell.

"Well that takes care of them, Torchwood." Fred said shutting the door. With a smile he walked back up into the main area.

He noticed most people were getting coats to go out for a drink. He turned to Grace before speaking.

"I'm going to relax for a while. I'll see you all when you get back." With that Fred ascended the stairway and went to his assigned rooms.
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Nathan

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:20 pm

"The Weevil should still be unconscious from the sedative I gave him. You all can go out and have something to eat, I think I want to stay in for a bit."

"If it's all the same with you, I'd rather get it into one of the cells now." Fred said as he walked over to the lift.


"I meant..." Nathan started to say he was going to tend to it since he had to examine the Weevil anyway but it was obvious Fred wasn't going to listen. They all had other things on their mind so Nathan turned and headed across to the small lounge area designated as the bar. He had had enough fun for one day and was ready for a break.

The bar is where he made himself a drink and finished the first glass when he heard Wen call for a Vodka Tonic. "Vodka Tonic coming up." he called back to her as she went to get changed. He thought about asking Torchwood to take the drink up to her, but he wasn't sure if their resident spook was going to be sulking or not. Setting the double sized drink on the bar for Wen when she got done changing.

No need to push that issue, he thought bringing his PDA out of an inner pocket. Setting his backpack on one of the stools he brought out a rubbery roll which folded out into a keyboard. Attaching the keyboard to the PDA, its blue glowing light showing the tired rings under his eyes, he began to type.

He let the current date and time remain unchanged, tabbed down into a blinking field that had no data filled in for it.

======

Torchwood Archivist Nathanial Scott reporting on this day.The first day for this team was a busy one, not on call a few hours and we got our first assignment. The Weevil we brought back now resides in the cell next to next to Mamma (actual creatures name) and her child. Only minor injuries to the team. We also ran into our first encounter with Gabriel and two of his thugs. The attempted assassination of Derowen Macfie was foiled by the entity known as Torchwood, the guardian of Torchwood 10.

======

Nathan stopped a moment to take a drink, the dregs clinking in his empty glass disappointing. With a thoughtful frown he turned and poured himself a larger glass of Crown, this time mixing it with the local version of Coke. Tasted a bit off, but it would do the trick. Turning back around he watched the others a moment forming his thoughts for the next part of his report.

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Derowen

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:21 pm

Derowen changed quickly. She pulled her hair into a loose knot at the base of her neck and tucked her yawara inside the knot.

As she was doing up the laces on her boots, she called up the location of Doran's cell phone. It was suspiciously close to the exit. "Probably dumped. Well, he'll either come back or not." When alone, she was in the habit of musing out loud.

She flicked off the lights in her suite and headed out into the main area. It looked as if the Team had been straightening things up.

"Nathan, got my drink?" she called as she picked her way across the debris field. He was tapping away at his PDA. He indicated the glass in front of him.

"Thank you. Well, any injuries we need to take care of? If not, we are off to The Comedy. Anyone who is coming, let's go. If you aren't go and have a life, be on call. See you tomorrow."

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Horatio

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:22 pm

Horatio was descending the stairs from the entrance and had just said his "hellos" to Torchwood. He'd like to think it was a ringwraith, what with all the sniffing and the general sense of dread it produced in him. Headphones blasting in his ears, Horatio silently walked past everyone without really looking up, a bad habit he picked up from his students.

Approaching his workstation, he set his briefcase down on the table top and cued up his computer. Horatio was on staff to more or less do autopsy work. In the few days he'd been a member of the team he hadn't been called in as such. Much to his relief, there was no autopsy paperwork waiting for him. Thank Zeus for small miracles. Looking around, Horatio noticed it was a little subdued. "You look my 8:30 Intro to Physical class," he said pulling the headphones out of his ears. With a quick motion he set them and his iPod on the desk beside his computer.
"Just as quiet, too."

He logged on and checked out a few of his e-mails before resigning himself to paper-grading. Nothing interesting, really. A few ads for virility enhancements, one claiming that Mr. Blair had once dated the Princess of the planet Clum and a few sundry messages about the latest concert dates for a hand a friend has suggested to him, The Fight. Sighing deeply, he popped open his briefcase and began to look over the papers from his Forensic Study class. He was not three paragraphs when he tossed down the first paper and turned to his computer. "Bloody wikipedia!" Slamming his fist on his desk, he shook his head. "Won't these kids every learn to much craftier?" Whipping up a nasty e-mail in record time, he sent it to the student in question. "If you're going to cheat, do it well, m'boy." It was after this that he took notice of Derowen being in the central area of the hub.

"Thank you. Well, any injuries we need to take care of? If not, we are off to The Comedy. Anyone who is coming, let's go. If you aren't go and have a life, be on call. See you tomorrow."

He swiveled around in his chair and looked to Derowen, "Can I come?"

Tag - Derowen, and well, anyone really.
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Derowen

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:23 pm

Thank you. Well, any injuries we need to take care of? If not, we are off to The Comedy. Anyone who is coming, let's go. If you aren't go and have a life, be on call. See you tomorrow."

He swiveled around in his chair and looked to Derowen, "Can I come?"


Derowen grinned at him. "Absolutely. We ought to leave. Case you didn't notice, it's a bit messy today.First round is on me."

She headed out of the Hub, figuring that anyone who was coming was going to follow.

The Comedy wasn't a top spot for the tourists, which was just fine as far as Derowen was concerned. It was located staggering distance from both the local tube station and at least one entrance to the Hub. The decor was distinctly mediocre, again, not a bad thing.

Derowen pulled a couple of tables together and ordered a round for the team that had joined her. She also ordered a round of shooters to begin with. Wouldn't hurt to loosen them up... just a little.

She propped her elbows on the table and looked at them. "You have to let go. Or you die. Simple as that." she said. "Today wasn't a typical day. Now, who plays darts?"

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Quin

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:23 pm

She propped her elbows on the table and looked at them. "You have to let go. Or you die. Simple as that." she said. "Today wasn't a typical day. Now, who plays darts?"

Quin had managed a quick shower and change of clothes, it made a lot of sense to have a room at the hub. It saved going back to his flat. He wouldn't want to live at HQ permanently he liked his privacy but it certainly came in useful.

He hadn't intended to go for a drink. His stomach was still a little queasy after Torchwoods 'how to disintegrate a body in one easy lesson' display.

What the Hell, he thought I'm in.

He followed Derowen and the others to the rather shabby bar. It was quiet and it served alcohol that was enough for now. Maybe later he'd eat but not yet.

"I play a little," he said. He grinned. "Actually I'm bloody good so I'll play right handed give the rest of you a chance."

He wasn't about to try to con the team. You didn't do that to your mates. Any other punter was fair game.
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Grace

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:24 pm

"First round is on me," grinned Derowen.

"Now you're talking," Grace's solemn face lit up. "If I'd known it was that kind of outfit, I'd have transferred a lot sooner!"

Derowen pulled a couple of tables together and ordered a round for the team that had joined her. She also ordered a round of shooters to begin with. "You have to let go. Or you die. Simple as that." she said. "Today wasn't a typical day. Now, who plays darts?"

"I play a little," Quin said, grinning. "Actually I'm bloody good so I'll play right handed give the rest of you a chance."

"Ha!" Grace replied scornfully. "You and whose army? Count me in."

As Quin went to set up the board, Grace leant over to Derowen, not wanting to be overheard by the others.

"Look, I know this counts as business, so I'll keep it short, but I just need to get a couple of things clear with you. One – you said in the teashop when you signed me up that I was going to be your number two." She gestured towards Eric, "You need to know that he outranked me back a while and I can see you've got some history with Nathaniel, so if you consider their experience to be more... appropriate... well... I'll live. Maybe not happy ever after, but... Two - " she waved toward Horatio, "are we expecting any more ex-UNIT, cos this is starting to remind me of This is Your Life." She knocked back her drink in one, barely pausing, the index finger of the hand holding the glass pointing accusingly, "And if I ever find out you've hired Brimmacombe-Wood, I WILL hand in my notice immediately."

TAG – Derowen

"No more business tonight - promise," Grace crossed her heart and grinned, grabbing the darts Quin offered her and sashaying toward the oche.
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Derowen

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:25 pm

Derowen listened to Grace. She nodded.

"Brimmacombe-Wood is welcome to come and meet Torchwood at any time Grace." She admonished, picking up her drink and finishing it.

"But I might not bother to introduce him to the appropriate people if he did show up." She added, winking. "Another?" She indicated to the waiter for another couple of shots.

"Don't worry about the others. I didn't choose them for second. I chose you. Both Nathan and Eric have great qualities, but they aren't what I need." The drinks arrived.

"Cheers." They clinked glasses before downing the shot. Derowen grimaced. "That stuff is terrible. I'm going to need several more before the evening is finished so I don't remember how awful it is."

"No more business tonight - promise," Grace crossed her heart and grinned, grabbing the darts Quin offered her and sashaying toward the oche.
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Doran

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:30 pm

For more than an hour Doran had moved with the music amidst a seemingly endless sea of writhing naked or semi-naked bodies. Time for a smoke and a drink he decided, there was no point in trying to push his way out of the morass of dancers so he danced his way out, slipping easily between the sweating bodies as he moved in sync with them. On the way he saw his friend Mitch and mimed he was off for a smoke, Mitch okayed with one of the hands high above his head and followed.

Thousands of blue LEDs lined the ceiling of the disused railway arch that was the smoking area behind DYAO. The arch was quite busy, so much for the smoking ban Doran thought, those 'dults don't have a clue. Doran and Mitch saw a couch by one of the side walls being vacated and nabbed it before anyone else got there, each taking an end, their legs slipping up along the other's body. Leaning in close they lit up before relaxing back to catch up on what had been going on in their lives over the weeks since they had last seen each other before Doran had left for Queens University. Doran and Mitch, Adam Mitchell, had met at the Royal Institution College where they had both been boarders, and they had been what Doran called f**k-buddies. Adam had been going through a curious/experimental phase as he put it, and as Doran had agreed with Jack Harkness to be on his best behaviour, he had kept his sexual liaisons as discrete and close to home as possible to avoid detection.


Adam, was about a year older than Doran, and he did not share his friend's slight gawkiness. He was stripped to the waist clearly showing that his musculature had some definition whereas that of Doran was undefined and devoid of any hair whatsoever. However, facially there was a considerable difference between the pair, not that they looked alike by any stretch of the imagination. Adam's face had a rosy-cheeked innocence whereas even the briefest glimpse of his companion's eyes told you there was a dearth of any such quality there.

"So, the move wasn't all it was promised to be then D?"

"Nah, I should have known they'd never give someone my age a chance. Most haven't even acknowledged my existence, others are just plain abusive or rude, you know I don't think a single one of them used my name tonight." Doran thought hard for a moment. "Nope, the best I got was 'kid'."

"Really?" Adam blew smoke upwards into the cerulean glow, "a bit dehumanising I think Professor Perry would have said."

"Yep." In truth Doran felt it was more than that, much more. The Captain had lied, Torchwood had not changed, not one iota. They had all the arrogance, self-centred importance and lack of humanity he had always associated with the Institute, which had seen him as having no value, he had been nothing more than an expendable Step Four on the way to Six. He was coming to realise that he was in real danger at Torchwood Ten, not because of the job, he understood that threat and accepted it, but from the people who were supposedly his colleagues, they wouldn't think twice about topping him… or worse.

"It's good to see you again Mitch, I've missed this. How's Diane doing?"

"Dumped mate, a good shag but way too high maintenance, and more than a little on the thick side. Couldn't even get the basics of binomial theory."

Doran snorted in derision. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Straight up, she's like Jade Goodie with a GCSE. How she got into the RIC I have no idea. Are you seeing anyone?"

This was answered with a shake of his head; he had fulfilled his basic physical needs in the backrooms of DYAO when he had arrived, having indulged in an hour or so of mindless rutting with a couple of girls he had met on the way in just to get those Institute assholes out of his head. The friends talked for a little longer about this and that and nothing in particular, sharing mutual jokes and amusements. Adam flicked his third cigarette accurately into the waste bin and returned to the subject of Doran's current predicament.

"What are they like, these golfers you work with?"

"Dinosaurs, god they are so geriatric, I dread to think what their taste in music is like."

"It probably predates our births," Adam laughed. Doran agreed and said it had to, by at least a couple of decades was his guess, probably a lot more. Adam next wondered what oldsters were up to, doubting they were out dancing. "I suppose they're into OAP stuff, knitting, or cocoa, or down at the day centre."

"Ooh cruel," Doran chuckled. "They might have even got a bit radical and gone out for a coffee."

"The long winter evenings must just fly by," Adam deadpanned.

"That lot of golfers are more likely to be at a Bund meeting, or trying to raise the spirit of their beloved Yvonne Hartman."

"Who?"

"Ah, no one. In joke… that was never funny. Just the mad witch who used to run the place, it seems there's more than a few of her disciples still around."

"Looks to me like you should get out of there D." Adam sat up and took his friend's hand in his. "It's not working out is it mate?" the young Mancunian said. "Come on D, you've been avoiding talking about what's bugging you since we came out here."

Doran retorted that Adam was imagining things.

"Oh please, now who's the f**ktard? You had a chance to go to MIT to do pure mathematical research, and you said you'd got a better offer. Adrian Bridger, when he came to the RIC, said he'd take you back with him there and then. There aren't better offers D, there just aren't."

"This from the dude who's schooling is funded by the Van Statten Educational Foundation." What Adam Mitchell had said was true though, Doran felt now he had been a fool in joining Torchwood; the Mathematical Research Centre at Queens had been a damned good alternative whilst he was there.

"Call Adrian."

Doran spread his hands. "Err… no phone, naked in case you hadn't noticed."

"Like I'd miss that." He rummaged in a pocket and threw the phone across to Doran. "Call him. He's in the contacts."

"At this time of the morning?" Doran saw the stupidity of that remark and dialled.

"Bonjour, Organisation Européenne Pour La Recherche Nucléaire."

Doran greeted the receptionist in flawless French and asked to be put through to Dr Bridger, giving his name and why he was calling. Two minutes later he terminated the call and googled some departure schedules, before closing the phone and lobbing it gently back to Adam, who was grinning broadly. "Good choice mate. Go where they'll appreciate you."

"Can I get a shower back at your place?"

"You don't want to go back and get some of your things?"

"Never needed stuff in my life, and now is no different."

"What about your passport?"

"Don't need one."

"You want to tell your people what's going on?

"I doubt they will even notice I've gone. Nah, f**k' em. Thanks Mitch. If I get my clothes do you mind if we go now?"

Adam got up from the sofa. "No problem. Let's go."
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Fred

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:31 pm

After a quick shower, Fred was changing into his soft comfortable navy blue jogging suit. Once he'd pulled on his black boots and tied them up, he strode out of his room and looked around. It seemed the team had left for there drink. Fred smiled to himself as he walked out of Torchwood via the main entrance.

"Cya later Torchwood." Fred called over his shoulder, before walking out of Torchwood and up the long flight of stairs.

Once he was out into the lower level shopping area of Trocadero, he made his way up and out of Piccadilly Circus Tube station. He took a deep breath of the cold crisp air, and looked up to see the star's shining brightly. Without any cloud cover it would freeze tonight. Fred turned to his left and walked long until he was on Great Windmill St.

Once there, and away from the mass of people that populated Piccadilly Circus, he leant against a brick wall and did a few warm ups. Once he was happy that he'd warmed his muscles up nicely, Fred started to jog down Great Windmill St. At the Brewer St cross road, he went straight on into Lexington St, and once at the end of Lexington, he turned right onto Broadwick St.

As he moved further away from the main street's off London, the crowd thinned but the people that populated the street's also changed. Here there were fewer businessmen and homeless people, but more kids around. As he turned left onto Wardour St, he spotted his first street gang for the night.

He took the shortcut down St Anne's Ct which brought him out onto Dean St, and stopped for a breather as he took in his surroundings. Happy that everything was normal, or at least as normal as possible in London, he continued on his way. Half an hour later, Fred looked around himself, and realised that he wasn't too sure where he was.

He was about to turn back, and return to territory he knew when a familiar face walk out of a very packed building. He crossed the street at an easy jog, and stopped before Doran.

"Good Evening Doran." Fred said sizing Doran's companion up. "You missed a chance to go for a piss up with the others, but it seems you found your own little party." Fred stated before taking a deep breath.

"Well I'll see you in the morning. I'm sure Derowen will have more work for us by then." With that Fred gave Doran a hearty pack on the back, before jogging off down the street.
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Rick

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:32 pm

Stowell looked around at "The Comedy".

"Wouldn't 'Tragedy' be a better name for this place?"

"Anyway... I play darts. I also want to talk shop. Is that permissible? You could classify it as part of your leadership role."

"You see, I can't 'let go' unless I get data and explanations. Consider that part of your leadership role too. Particularly when I see things which can't be explained by current scientific theory."

" And please don't give me any crap like 'According to the laws of aerodynamics, bumblebees can't fly.' .... because that's not true ... aerodynamics can explain the bee."

He drank thirstily - and a little unsteadily.

"But antigravity? People vaporised without associated changes in local environment? Give me something to work with here."

"Not to mention a reason to go back down into that, that , fall-out bunker. How about I work from somewhere else?... with windows .. . no Hammer Horror special effects... and with good old Newtonian physics."
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Doran

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:34 pm

"Good Evening Doran." Fred said sizing Doran's companion up. "You missed a chance to go for a piss up with the others, but it seems you found your own little party." Fred stated before taking a deep breath.

Doran looked at his watch. "Morning Mr Black," Doran said. "Carlo this is Mr Black, Mr Black this is Carlo." He had thought about responding with sarcasm to 'missed chance' but it would have been way too easy, besides what was the point, Fred Black and Co were nothing more than a brief insane blip in his past.

"Well I'll see you in the morning. I'm sure Derowen will have more work for us by then." With that Fred gave Doran a hearty pack on the back, before jogging off down the street.

"Wow," Adam said grinning broadly, "where'd that vidiot get himself dressed, Saville Row?"

"Jimmy Saville Row maybe," Doran said coldly.

"Who?"

Doran made a gesture to indicate it didn't matter.

"What's with all the Carlo stuff D?"

"I didn't want him to know who you were Mitch."

Adam caught on quickly. "He part of the problem?"

Doran nodded.

"Don't get fretful mate, I'm off to see the rents, so I'm in the clear. C'mon, you've only got an hour."

The two boys moved off down the street in the opposite direction to that taken by Fred Black. Doran, his distrust of the Torchwood people now at the forefront of his mind, took them down alleys and cuts he knew well to lose any potential tail.
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Quin

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:35 pm

Grace crossed her heart and grinned, grabbing the darts Quin offered her and sashaying toward the oche.

Quin stood well back and watched as Grace took up her position on the line.

"Nearest to middle goes first," he said. "What do you want to play to? 301 suit everyone?"

He decided to go last and watch everyone else throw. He could learn a lot from their style. Quin liked to win or at least not to lose. However, sometimes it was good policy to lose. He would decide whether tonight was one of those times as the game progressed.

He looked round, it was a shame the kid wasn't with them, nor was Fred come to think of it. Probably both had lives outside of Torchwood. Quin had tried not to run into any of his old acquaintances. Fortunately he had always kept business and pleasure into two distinct categories. None of the people he worked with had ever had any idea where he lived.
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Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:37 pm

"How about I work from somewhere else?... with windows .. . no Hammer Horror special effects... and with good old Newtonian physics."

Derowen listened with a suitably grave look on her face. Then pushed one of the shots towards Rick.

"Drink more. That's an order." she instructed, pointedly.

"Let's see. Yes you can work from another location. There's a lovely set of offices near Canary Wharf that are empty right now. Sort of anyway." She reached forward and patted him on the hand. "You can have a look at them later on. We'll have to send a team there soon enough."

"You are going to see so much that cannot be explained by anything in your experience. Best you accept it now. I can't give you reasons why things work, because I don't know. It's why I hired you. You have to give me the hows and whys. As for the vaporisation? Consider it a security device that is more top secret than your clearance. Which isn't all that bad now, by the way."

She frowned. "Bumblebees can't fly according to current science? I thought they dealt with that in the fifties." Reaching out she turned off the box. "No more shop talk. Go make darts sing your praise. Be thankful it isn't a Thursday. They have karaoke." She shuddered as if this was indeed the worst thing she could imagine.
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Nathan

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:37 pm

Nathan watched them all leave saying very little, he was still a bit shaken by his own revelations. As the last door closed on the hub he let his shoulders slump and the mask to slip.... just a little. A cool breeze touched his cheek and a slight reassuring pressure on his shoulder.

"Thanks Torchwood." he said finishing another glass and pouring another. Nathan held the glass up to the light, the golden liquid sparkled as it lifted the ice cubes, "Salute!" he said emphasizing the motion with a burst of personal energy. Slowly he turned in a circle, saluting each of the cardinal points. He was amazed he could feel them, each direction pulled at him with its own color and feeling.

From under the cabinet he pulled out a large white candle ball. Holding it gently he bowed his head and whispered to it before placing it on the bar top. The flick of a lighter and its amber flame lit the small area in a welcoming glow. Feeling safe, the hub so quiet and still except for a small stirring breeze just outside his mental circle.

"Yes please come in." Nathan said and felt the breeze slide inside the circle causing the candle flame to dance but it did not go out. Nathan smiled as he sat once more on the bar stool. "Of all the stories that I could have been assigned to, you had to assign me the most dangerous......" he let out a sigh and with it his worry and tension.

An hour of sitting quiet and still was enough for Nathan, he felt better... more centered, he thought. Flipping on the TV he opened his battered leather backpack and removed a silver disc which he slid into the player built into the TV. Seconds later a cartoon was playing, one of his favorites, which he sang along to as it played.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=PbSQZNMr7XI
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Evelyn

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:41 pm

Evelyn yawned. She took a sip of her root beer and winced at the taste. Definately not Barq's, Mug, Hienz, or Dr Pepper.

She sighed and looked back at the dart board. Derowen was winning, apparantly, and quite magnificently so.

She yawned again.

'I really hope,' she thought, taking another gulp of her drink, 'that I
don't have another freaking concussion. I swear to god, if whatever that
thing was bruised my already fried brain, I'm gonna shoot the thunderfuk
that thought up the thing.'

The bar was okay, strangely similar to one of her and her friends'
favourite haunts back in Saskatchewan. Even had a claurichaun door. Someone tapped her shoulder and she perked up her ears, but couldn't
hear what was being said.

"Pardon," she asked, turning.

Tag - anyone
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Foxy

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 4:42 pm

Grace was holding her own after the first few rounds when she noticed a familiar face at the other end of the room. Her smile faded. What the hell was he doing here? This was miles away from his stomping ground. Was he checking up on her?


"Need to get a refill," she waved an empty bottle at the others. "Back in a minute."


She tacked her way over to the bar. Sure enough, he came over. "Hello, Grace. How are things?"


"Fine, thanks," she replied curtly, without even looking at him.


"I see you've made some new friends. Batting for the other side these days?"


That earned a look, a sharp one. "I know where my loyalties lie, if that's what you mean," she replied.


"Glad to hear it," he smiled, then the smile disappeared. "Need to discuss something privately, if you've got a couple of minutes."


Grace glanced back at the team, they all seemed intent on something Derowen was saying. "OK, three minutes. No longer."



*** (no, you don't get to follow me!)



Three minutes later, Grace had paid up and made her way back to the others, chucking a couple of packets of crisps and peanuts on the table in the hope that no one asked any awkward questions.
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MattW

Postby Tavey » Fri Feb 22, 2008 11:53 pm

As for the vaporisation? Consider it
> a security device that is more top secret than your clearance. Which
> isn't all that bad now, by the way."
>

Stowell grimaced.

"Oh good". - he said sarcastically - "I'm sure that'll be a great consolation if I ever get to retire to whatever asylum that Torchwood maintains for its elderly and infirm."

"Because there's no way that anyone is ever let out. Is there? Even if we live to pension age.... Either that amnesia drug burns out our brains, or we get locked up? "

" If I'm forced to work for Torchwood - and like I said - I can see the necessity even if I resent it; I'd love to see the archives of what was really found when London was being honeycombed during the 1870's... and the 1940's. Because everyone knows that there's a lot of London underneath London. But it's Torchwood's job to keep it as legend isn't it?"

"And I'd prefer Canary Wharf. At least I can visit the Museum in Dockland and the Greater London Industrial Archaeology Society. They're both nearby. "

"Actually....Last time I was at the museum they had a display on superstition and the occult. Maybe I can make a copy of their witch-bottle..."

"So, what's Torchwood's interest at Canary Wharf? Is the pyramid of significance?"

RICK STOWELL
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Prax Jarvin

Postby Tavey » Sat Feb 23, 2008 12:04 am

Horatio sat nursing his Hoegaarden at the table Derowen pushed together. He was on his fourth or fifth, not quite sure, but what was the difference; Horatio did so love his Belgian blondes. Eyeing the dart players, he smiled and let them have their fun. He was rubbish at darts, but normally played to get a laugh out of someone. It wasn't one of those nights. He'd just realized where he's seen Grace before and he wasn't sure what that meant.

Ever since he'd met her in that brief tour Derowen had given him of the Hub, Horatio had this nagging suspicion that he's seen her before. About half an hour ago, he'd been drinking his second pint of evening and Grace had been chatting with Derowen off to the side. His curiosity had got the better of him and watched the two of them interact for a while. He was an anthropologist after all and that's what they did, watch and take notes. It was when Grace gave him a cute little wave that Horatio recognized her.

It had been about three years ago, when he was with UNIT, that this woman walked into his lab examining a power gauntlet attached to a recently deceased man. He was working out of Pimlico doing autopsy work, usually humans. Sometimes he wasn't quite sure what they brought him. But one day this beauty walked in and he spent the next hour or so alternatively answering her questions about the gauntlet's effects on the body and drooling all over her. He'd been recently divorced from Danielle at the time and had been itching for a lay. She was sweet, even entertained his dated pick up lines before ultimately turning him down. Over the next year, before UNIT dumped him, Horatio had run into her a few times, mostly in Pimlico, but once or twice out in the field. He played nonchalant and disinterested when she was around, but every so often she caught him eyeing her up. He stopped running into her as often shortly before being fired. It was silly really, but he'd always been upset he'd never gotten her number.

He often wondered how he ended up with Danielle anyway, as he was normally terribly shy, especially around people he wasn't sure he could trust. Blinking, Horatio returned to the present; his reverie ended. Sighing, he finished his pint and looked around the bar.

He idly wandered over to the dart players, figuring someone would sort out his funk. Just as he arrived, Grace moved to the bar with a wave of her bottle. He turned to face Quin. "Mind if I try my hand? I may just be horrible enough for you to beat."

TAG - QUIN

He picked up the darts and lobbed them at the board. True to form he hit the 1 and the 8. And then he nailed the wall beside the board. "Right. Well, glad that career's over before it started."

Three minutes later, Grace had paid up and made her way back to the others, chucking a couple of packets of crisps and peanuts on the table in the hope that no one asked any awkward questions.


"You know, it's customary for someone to come back with a few drinks when they disappear. Tis only proper. But I guess in this case, crisps will do." He smiled broadly and picked up a packet.

TAG - GRACE
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Quin

Postby Tavey » Sat Feb 23, 2008 12:05 am

He often wondered how he ended up with Danielle anyway, as he was normally
terribly shy, especially around people he wasn't sure he could trust.
Blinking, Horatio returned to the present; his reverie ended. Sighing, he
finished his pint and looked around the bar.

He idly wandered over to the dart players, figuring someone would sort out
his funk. Just as he arrived, Grace moved to the bar with a wave of her
bottle. He turned to face Quin. "Mind if I try my hand? I may just be
horrible enough for you to beat."

Quin laughed and handed over the darts. "The more the merrier," he said. "Despite the girls getting all competitive on me it is a friendly game."

If it hadn't been it would have been over by now. Quin didn't mess about when money or status was involved.

He picked up the darts and lobbed them at the board. True to form he hit the
1 and the 8. And then he nailed the wall beside the board. "Right. Well,
glad that career's over before it started."

Quin watched critically as Horatio threw. Absolutely no hand/eye co-ordination. But not a totally lost cause.

Quin shook his head. "Bloody awful," he said. "It helps to actually aim at the board. I don't think you should use a throwing knife as a weapon of choice."

Three minutes later, Grace had paid up and made her way back to the others,
chucking a couple of packets of crisps and peanuts on the table in the hope
that no one asked any awkward questions.

When Grace returned to the table Quin snagged a bag of peanuts, opening them and offering them round. He realised that he was starving but sushi or calimari was not on the menu. He hadn't been involved in the fight with squiddly diddly but he'd seen it being carried off. He was not drinking as much as some of the others making his bottle of Bud last a while.

"You know, it's customary for someone to come back with a few drinks when
they disappear. Tis only proper. But I guess in this case, crisps will do."
He smiled broadly and picked up a packet.
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Postby Tavey » Sat Feb 23, 2008 12:07 am

Derowen chuckled. "Rick. Enough questions. Ask them tomorrow. Tonight, enjoy or go home. For tomorrow we may well save the world." She looked around the table. "That goes for everyone. When we have time off, make the most of it. It's a luxury."

She signaled to the waiter to bring menus. It was more than time to have something to eat. The food was adequate, though not inspiring here. She ordered a plowman's for herself and a few appetizers to leave on the table as fair picking for the others.

"John, can I have my papers please?" she requested. The waiter nodded. This was not an unusual occurrence here. Derowen would come in to eat and read through the local news while doing so. She preferred the smaller independent papers, as they had a lot more odd pieces of information in them. The waiter delivered a selection a few moments later.

"This could be fun. Let us see." Quickly she scanned through the headlines. Local schools having fetes, weddings, obituaries. She pulled out her palmtop
computer to make a few notes as she scanned. "Paul Waring. Send flowers. Man dies by choking on potted plant soil, Mary Kennington, visit in hospital. Hope she is well after car accident. Oh." she voice softened suddenly. "Oh. Jerry. Send flowers to Jerry's widow. Find out if she needs anything." She continued in this style, dictating notes into the computer for a while.

Finally she stretched. "I am going back to the Hub. Enjoy the rest of your evening. John? Put it on my account please, one more round for the folk that came in with me. "

She nodded to each of them and left.
Image

"Oh Bother." Said The Borg. "We've assimilated Pooh."
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Postby Tavey » Sat Feb 23, 2008 12:07 am

The following day, Derowen checked the entrance logs for the Hub and noted that Doran had not returned. She frowned. Although it wasn't exactly unusual for him to remain out to all kinds of hours, it was unusual for him to not be around the following day. Recovering if nothing else. His choice of relaxation might not be to her taste, but so long as he was available for work, it would be fine.
She pinged his earpiece. There was no answer. Frowning, she opened up the tracking screen on her console to see where it was. It took a moment for the satallites to pick it up and triangulate it's position. While she waited, she sent a text to the team.

*ANYONE SEEN DORAN. PLS ADVISE. DM*

TAG - Team.

Her screen flashed once to indicate that it had finished it's task. The earpiece was in the landfill. Derowen sighed.

"Stupid Kid." she growled. "You have enough brains to save the bloody universe, and not an ounce of common sense. What if you are in trouble?" What indeed. Though Doran could be a pain, and frequently was, Derowen suspected it was armour. That he put on the attitude because he was afraid to let himself belong. It was hard enough to be in Torchwood without feeling an outsider here as well as everywhere else.
She decided to wait until she had heard from the team before activating the next level, reserved for missing operatives, potentially compromised.

TAG -Doran.
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"Oh Bother." Said The Borg. "We've assimilated Pooh."
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