Please don’t mind the pterodactyl and try some of Ianto’s coffee while we take a brief tour of Torchwood-Three.
You only have visitor clearance. This means you are limited to certain areas of the Hub and there are some features you can't use.
Our game is currently invitation only, however we welcome visitors - retcon is optional!
Join our community!
If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:
|Where The Monsters Are(n't?); Tuesday Morning (Case of the Tuesdays)|
|Topic Started: Apr 30 2008, 04:27 PM (217 Views)|
|Andy Davidson||Apr 30 2008, 04:27 PM Post #1|
Blames The Jam
OOC: Cont from The Hub > Lower Areas > The Cells
Andy noticed the way Jack's expression darkened when he mentioned the battlefield. Harkness had to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties at most. It was a stretch to assume he'd fought in the Falklands -- the American accent was another count against that, actually -- but he supposed Jack could have fought in Desert Storm, or been a Peacekeeper in Bosnia.
Andy knew better than to pry. If Jack wanted to share that trauma, it was his business.
“You’ll be working with Gwen, usually, weapons and basic psychic training with me. Proper procedures for handling alien artifacts, and junk, with Ianto. He’ll get you a security code, ID and all that as well.”
"Psychic training?" Andy scoffed, shaking his head. "You're lucky you showed me the weevil first." He couldn't help but grin, though. One, he'd be working with Gwen again. Two, it was kind of exciting to imagine himself as some sort of secret agent with a cool ID, setting things on fire with his brain. Definitely not the old Andy.
“We don’t actually do all that much complicated detective work, it’s not our forte. If we can successfully pull any DNA from the samples, we can put it into our scanners and search for it.”
"Ah, but --" Andy pointed out, looking excited. "You still need those skills to gather good evidence. Otherwise, your CSI bollocks is crap. You contaminate the evidence, tear up the scene. Going back to a broken scene doesn't do any good. Or, uh, so I'm told." He elected not to tell Jack that he knew half of this from listening in on CID and the SOCOs, and the other half from studying in hopes of being promoted out of uniform and into detective work.
Jack paused before making that last push into the Hub proper. That battlefield look crossed his face again, and Andy worried he'd said something wrong.
“Listen. You’ll hear this sooner or later so hear it now. Torchwood used to be much larger – nearly a thousand people. Until Canary Wharf.”
Andy didn't know what to say as Jack explained, in limited detail, the fall of Torchwood One. He tried to imagine the loss of thousands -- not a big battlefield, but huge as secrets go -- and to remember some of the national trauma he saw in the aftermath of the ghost thing. He found he had a lot of questions, but he wasn't sure where and how to start. He decided it would keep for another time. Right now there was a...well, a thing to catch.
“It’s a bad time to be so weak. But there’s no real good time, is there?”
Andy shrugged as they entered the Hub. "My nan always said 'Nerth gwlad, ei gwybodaeth.' Sometimes you need smarts more than numbers."
OOC: Gah. My tenses were all over the place there. Frantic clean up operation...
|Captain Jack Harkness||Apr 30 2008, 06:14 PM Post #2|
"Don't get too excited about that," Jack said at Andy's enthusiasm. "Basic psychic training is mostly about how to recognize if you've been hypnotized, drugged or someone is trying to muck about say ... in your memories. The fact that you could throw off the retcon means you've got a decent sense of self and that's a good start."
Jack smiled at Andy's excitement at the thought of properly tromping through the evidence. Maybe he should pair him up with Tosh, see if he liked all the scanners and sniffers and devices they used to short-cut a lot of the crawling around picking things up with tweezers.
"My nan always said 'Nerth gwlad, ei gwybodaeth.' Sometimes you need smarts more than numbers."
Jack had listened to a lot of Welsh over the years and it still sounded like gargling to him, pleasant gargling yes, but it seemed like his language centers were full up, he'd never been able to pick up more than a few variations of 'your place, mine or the back alley?' in Welsh. "Well, let's hope your nan is right."
"Let's take a look at the truck," Jack said, turning them towards the garage. "And tell me about these drugs gangs because aliens trying to cut in on human drug operations? That's pretty much a new one on me. There's few reasonable motivations beyond the human in it."
Cont: wherever the truck post ends up.
|Andy Davidson||May 1 2008, 03:00 AM Post #3|
Blames The Jam
OOC: Oh my god. It's like I got mugged by a full night's sleep. I'd better make sure it didn't steal my wallet or anything.
"Let's take a look at the truck. And tell me about these drugs gangs because aliens trying to cut in on human drug operations? That's pretty much a new one on me. There's few reasonable motivations beyond the human in it."
"Yeah, I'll have to take your word on that one," Andy chuckled and followed Jack toward the garage. "Though, uh, don't we need a bit of kit for this? Something smarter than me? With little flashing lights, maybe?"
OOC: Okay, cont in Lower Levels > Other Areas > Thoroughly Trucked
|« Previous Topic · Night Work · Next Topic »|