[ Poll ] Torchwood Three -A LITERATE Torchwood RP- [FULL]

Favorite Character?

Jack Harkness		36.4%	[ 8 ]
Toshiko Sato		4.5%	[ 1 ]
Gwen Cooper-Williams		4.5%	[ 1 ]
Owen Harper		9.1%	[ 2 ]
Ianto Jones		31.8%	[ 7 ]
John Hart		4.5%	[ 1 ]
Other (NO POLL WHORES)		9.1%	[ 2 ]

Total Votes: 22

[masqued bunny]

((So how does this begin? Or do we wait until we at least have the full cast of canon characters?))

[Cora Hellsing]

((We don't have to wait. Others will [hopefully] come.))

In the low hum that filled the Torchwood base, Mara Lynne sat typing sedately at her computer terminal. Her dark blonde hair, piled on top of her head in a high ponytail, was barely visible over the rows of books that bordered the flat screen. Fiction, history, biology, chemistry, anatomy; books of every height and width threatened to topple over on her. Violet eyes scanned the lines of text that she had been transcribing into a database.

She settled back into her chair against her denim vest, toying slowly with the torn knee of her cargo pants. Mara had just completed her own file. Her eyes drifted to the name on the next file: Captain John Hart.

[masqued bunny]

((Giving him an excuse to return))

A dim green haze filled Captain John Hart's vision when he finally found the will to open his eyes. Where was he? Well--immediately, at any rate--flat on his back, it would seem; and, as his limbs were ignoring any command that required more than minimal motion, Hart opted to suss out the situation with what limited peripherals he had.

Out of the corner of his eye, through the oil-lit gloom and heady fumes, Hart found a neighbor. Several neighbors. A few feet off to right, two gentlemen--and the term could only be applied loosely--were sprawled close to a low table, casually sharing in a hookah. The more fortunate customers were scattered about on low divans and pallets; the less fortunate were propped up in dank corners, passed out on the chilled floor. Some were more conscious of their surroundings than others, but all wore expressions to welcome oblivion. ... Right. Opium den. That would account for the apparent green tint to everything.

As for the when, it probably mattered for very little here. No one would be terribly conscious or curious about the anachronisms on his person. No one was ever very conscious of anything in places like this--which made them marvelous for hiding ... Unless he let himself get carried away in the moment. Or on the off-chance that someone did take too deep an interest--? Well, Hart had his ways.

Hart did wondered how long he had been there, how much of his time had passed since he had left. Was it enough time for--?

Thundering footsteps overhead interrupted his thoughts, dust from the decaying floorboards above raining down upon the stunned and intoxicated around him. The herd-like rumbled traveled down an unseen stairway, growing louder by the second.

"Break's over," he sneered sullenly.

[Cora Hellsing]

Mara jumped hard as a siren began screaming in her ear, automatically opening a map of Cardiff on her computer screen. She leaned forward, eyes narrowing, as a target pulsed over a point southwest of Torchwood known for drug dens. A Rift had spit out something else. She tapped the Comm in her ear and left the same message on all the others' answering services: "Something's come through. I'm going to the west side. I'll send you coordinates." She loaded her guns into her holsters on either hip and pushed away from her computer.

Ianto was the first to receive the message, only a minute after it was sent. He groaned, marvelling that a girl as smart as Mara could be so stupid when it came to her own safety. Slipping naked out of bed, he went in search of a pair of jeans and T-shirt; it was too early for a suit. Ianto stuck his Comm into his ear and snatched his keys from his bedside table. "Li'l bugga'll get 'erself killed one day," he muttered and slammed his apartment door.

[masqued bunny]

Funny how things never really changed--not in essentials, anyway.

One moment, Captain Hart had been in the midst of an opium den raid, angry constables threatening to break down the barricaded cellar door. The next--after some quick reconfiguring of time--surrounded by frenetic youth with sallow complexions, engaged in admittedly distracting scenarios. The languid intoxication of opium had been swiftly replaced by the more ambitiously energetic intoxication of methamphetamines.

A young couple, emaciated to the point of androgyny, was staring at him in a glazed and brainless adoration. He smirked at them wickedly. In their euphoric state, Hart could only guess what they had seen--or thought they had seen.

Knowing Torchwood, someone would have detected his entry and soon be here to ruin this little party, too... Still, he had some time to spare, right?

[masqued bunny]

((We have no others yet? ... Should I take on an OC to mix things up?

Also, I promise it won't always be an after school drug special with Captain John))

[Cora Hellsing]

((Go ahead. Doesn't matter to me.))

Ianto's systems went on full-alert when he saw a spattering of black blood on the pavement, followed by a single heeled footprint. Mara. Ianto withdrew his gun from his pocket, his arms stiff and holding the gun muzzle to the ground. His steps were slow, fluid and deliberate. The pools got bigger as he neared an alley on the silent street. Moving quickly, he burst around the corner and aimed.

Mara was standing, splattered with black blood and oozing crimson, over the carcass of a Nostrovite. She shivered a little as she lowered her weapon and replaced it on her hip. "It was Mom," she said, her usually-cool voice reduced to a murmur. "The female. So we've got a widower out there who won't be happy."

"Did it bite you?" inquired Ianto, looking at the wound on her shoulder.

"Scratched me." She shook her head and looked him straight in the face. "John Hart's back." She turned on her heel and took to the street. Ianto heard her shout "JOHN!"

[masqued bunny]

Hart pulled away abruptly from the lips and limbs tangled in the throw pillows. His hand moved swiftly to the holster at this hip, head cocked to the side for that faint difference in the cacophony of pounding music and frantic conversation. There was no way to be sure, but a moment before he could have sworn he had heard--

Behind him, the boy--at least, Hart thought it was the boy--groaned disappointedly at his sudden departure. Lips twisted wryly, he turned around and leveled a gun young man's head in warning.

"Will you shut - up?" he demanded, his tone speaking a long-suffering boredom, as boy and girl--now that she had taken notice of the situation change--stared up at him in shock. "I am trying to listen."

[Cora Hellsing]

"You're insane," Ianto muttered, but he dutifully followed the twenty-three year old hacker through the streets of western Cardiff like an under-paid puppy. He had never understood why she had such a connection to John Hart. All he knew was that he had dropped her off with Jack and said "Watch her". Interestingly, he had not come back for her.

Mara ignored him, still shouting Hart's name. Her heart was in her throat, and the palms of her hands were marred with nail marks. She tightened her fists again, pausing outside a known opium den. "Where are you, dammit?" she muttered, unshed tears burning her eyes. "John...."

[masqued bunny]

Re-holstering his weapon, Hart took to the stairs two at a time to the door at the top. The dark claustrophobic passage suddenly opened to a wide empty space--still dark, but with dim electric light filtering weakly through dirty taped-and-papered windows.

The driving music muted abruptly as Hart let the door fall shut behind him. And there it was again, his name being shouted, shrill and hoarse. Well, that was fast, he thought, wading across dirty plastic sheeting, dust-encrusted paint cans, and other marks of failed or forgotten renovation plans, making his way toward the only other door in the room.

Fling the heavy door open violently, he stepped out into the dark--of late night or early morning, he could not tell--and mostly deserted street. Mostly.

John's eyes scanned Ianto Jones for a fraction of a second before dismissing the office boy and allowing himself to linger more appraisingly on Mara. "A little worse for wear, aren't we?" he remarked casually, his gaze flickering significantly over the alarming mixture of human and alien blood staining her front.

[Cora Hellsing]

Mara began to shake, torn between throwing her arms around him and slapping his face. Her heart leapt into her throat, tightening as she holstered her still-armed weapon. "Dammit, John, what are you doing here?" Eyes blinking furiously, she took a step forward, unconscious to the movement on her hand gliding toward his chest, testing and probing his tangibility.

Ianto mentally rolled his eyes. Yet again, Mara's "homing beacon" for Hart had pulled through. He made a mental note to warn Jack. Instead he drank in the loving adoration and relief in Mara's face and swallowed the sickening feeling that it wasn't friendship in her eyes.

[masqued bunny]

Hart's eyes narrowed knowingly, teeth flashing his cockiest smile. He stepped boldly into the tentative touch, fingers lacing through hers. "Here?" he said innocently, his off-hand tone belying the intimacy of their proximity, glancing back momentarily at the crumbling edifice he had just left. "Sight-seeing."