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| Psychohistory; Mainframe. Adam, Ianto. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 15 2009, 07:31 PM (450 Views) | |
| Adam Smith | Sep 15 2009, 07:31 PM Post #1 |
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Weevil Bait
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The humans were easy. Brilliant, and convoluted, but easy. One touch and they opened to him completely, minds full of twisted pathways, but always linear. This -- Mainframe -- was not. Adam glowered at the physical form in the chilled room. The problem, he supposed, stemmed from the fact that this was so obviously an artifact -- only part of a greater whole, somewhere else, somewhere he couldn't reach or feel. And Mainframe wouldn't let him in. He coaxed, he cajoled, made promises and threats. But Mainframe simply sprawled out silently, in eleven dimensions and an unshifting core, pulsing like the heart of a neutron star. He could crack the glass and rattle the doorframes, but he was solidly outside it. For now. Lines of code scrolled through his head, trails of blue thought and logic, intertwined with the scarlet red of Tosh's remembered fascination. He grinned wickedly at the physical avatar as he input the commands. "I'm only patient when I have to be." Brute force would work just as well. |
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| Ianto Jones | Sep 15 2009, 08:38 PM Post #2 |
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Field Agent
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Ianto brushed at the front of his trousers after he stowed yet another box of chemical test strips in one of the storage closets near Mainframe. Owen had overestimated their need and they had... quite a stock. Probably enough for the next two years at the current rate of use. Ianto folded the receipt and tucked it into his inside jacket pocket, ready to head upstairs and update the order and inventory records. As he strode down the hallway, Ianto noticed a figure in the central computer room. He ducked his head in, expecting to see Tosh engaged in diagnostics and in need of something caffeinated "Nobody else gets to drink in here but me", she'd once said. He'd promised to remind the others, not that anyone else had the chops to program Mainframe or the desire to spend time down here anyway. It was probably a less popular destination than Archive Room H, and that was saying something. "Tosh, need some-" But he saw Adam tapping at the master controls instead and was at a loss for what to say. Well. Tosh might have sent him down to do...something, but he wasn't going to do it with a drink in his hand. "Ah. Adam. What are you doing down here?" Ianto blurted. |
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| Adam Smith | Sep 16 2009, 06:01 AM Post #3 |
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Weevil Bait
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Adam looked up calmly. "Tosh asked me to come down and look at a few things for her." He tilted his head a little, back toward the computer. "Mainframe's been acting up again." He looked Ianto over, pale skin and dark hair, body and mind curling in on themselves. "How've you been feeling?" |
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| Ianto Jones | Sep 16 2009, 11:23 AM Post #4 |
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Field Agent
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"I'm... I'm fine", Ianto said. "Fine." Except for the horrid recurrent but hazy dreams and resultant lack of sleep and complete loss of appetite, he thought but didn't add. Nobody knew. Jack and Adam were so close, Ianto really didn't feel comfortable confiding in him. It would just get back to Jack, who really didn't have time for that sort of thing. He had enough to deal with at the moment. Ianto turned to leave. |
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| Adam Smith | Sep 16 2009, 12:19 PM Post #5 |
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Weevil Bait
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Adam looked at Ianto's posture and frowned. "Are you sure? Come here." Putting a hand on Ianto's shoulder, he turned the younger man around. He was cold like ice to the touch -- sheets of dry ice, slow rolls of fog drifting off them as they sublimated in the air -- "You know you can tell me if something's wrong, right? It's what I'm here for." He rubbed his thumb across the tendon of Ianto's shoulder. |
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| Ianto Jones | Sep 16 2009, 06:52 PM Post #6 |
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Field Agent
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"I...it's nothing, really. I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping well lately. If it's all the same to you, Adam, I don't really feel like talking about it." Ianto half-shrugged, and felt the dig of Adam's fingers at his collarbone. I don't really want to talk about Canary Wharf... or Lisa. I spend enough time dwelling on things time can't fix,, Ianto thought. My fault, always my fault, shouldn't have run, should have tried to save her. as he turned his head towards the door. "I've got some work to do with inventory reports, so I'll be off. If anything's a guaranteed soporific, it's that." He pulled away, stopped, and regarded Adam silently. "I'll let Tosh know you're still working on... whatever it is you're working on." Edited by Ianto Jones, Sep 17 2009, 08:22 PM.
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| Adam Smith | Sep 16 2009, 08:07 PM Post #7 |
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Weevil Bait
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Adam watched Ianto's mind curl tighter in on itself -- Ianto headed down to the archives, wanting to avoid the others for a while. Sometimes he thought it was easier when they were ignoring him because he'd wanted them to. But now that they knew what he was like inside -- It was better that he stay out of the way. -- then let him go. "Well," he tried a smile, but he couldn't get it to sit just right. "You know where to find me." Edited by Adam Smith, Sep 18 2009, 04:53 PM.
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| Ianto Jones | Sep 18 2009, 07:22 PM Post #8 |
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Field Agent
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"Right. Well." Ianto gestured towards the doorway and forced a tight smile in reply. In the hallway, he flicked a glance back at Adam, bent over a keyboard again. He headed towards the Archives. He'd cleared a desk down here in one of the more-organised rooms where he'd situated one of the computers connected to Mainframe. He glanced at the monitor with its cycling blue forms, but didn't log on. Instead, he pulled a keyring from his pocket and slid a small key into the lock on the side drawer of a battered metal desk. He pulled out a smallish leatherbound volume and opened it to the page marked by the attached ribbon. Ianto stared at the handwriting -- his own -- but saw only a swirl of blue against the cream-coloured paper. He shut the diary and pinched the bridge of his nose. The tips of his fingers came away damp. He coughed and shook his head to clear it. He slid the diary back into its place in the drawer and locked it again. |
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| Adam Smith | Sep 19 2009, 08:05 AM Post #9 |
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Weevil Bait
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Adam stared down at his hands for a moment, thinking about hot metal piercing skin, the spark of fire and steel, the cool shudder of adrenaline through veins. There was smoke in the air. He flexed his knuckles slowly. Mainframe sat slow and sedate, still sending out blue curls of information. But he was beginning to see a way through, bending lines and energies to his demands. He headed back up the stairs, to see if Toshiko needed any help. Edited by Adam Smith, Sep 19 2009, 08:09 AM.
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| Ianto Jones | Sep 26 2009, 07:29 AM Post #10 |
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Field Agent
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Ianto put the key to his lips for a moment, thought, and removed the diary from the drawer. He pulled the receipts from his jacket pocket and tucked them inside, then locked up and headed back down the hallway, towards the shooting range.. |
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