?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Outpost 12

Recent Entries

August 3, 2074

View

Navigation

Skipped Back 10

November 8th, 2010

This is the kind of afternoon he never allows himself on the Silvana. It's late -- nearly seven -- and decadent, and he's sated and feeling lazily good, which is something else he never allows himself on the ship. If he's going to be kept here, this is the way he'd like all his evenings to play out.

He's even managed to talk Kara into letting him order room service, in exchange for getting out of bed and dressing enough to be presentable when the robot delivers their food to her door: fresh salad and hot bread and a bottle of red wine and stew rich with beef and potatoes and carrots and mushrooms and onions, the kind of stick-to-your-bones food that's absolutely required after the type of evening they've just had. He's famished, although he's far too restrained to show it. Instead, he ushers the robot out of the room, closes and locks the door, and presents it all to Kara with a flourish as if he's somehow responsible for its appearance.

All he did was order it.

"Lieutenant." With a wide gesture, he indicates the food at the table. "Are you hungry?"

It goes without saying that she is his favorite activity on this asteroid and in this solar system. If it were up to him, she would be his dinner appetizer every day of the week and twice on Sundays.

November 4th, 2010

The light is just starting to wane; perched on the lip of the wall, he gazes out at the distant city. Most days, there's a sameness to this place, or especially this side of the asteroid: not much happens. Today, however, he hops down from the wall, eyes narrowed, as a ship -- a very large ship -- wobbles toward the hotel from the general area of the city. It... does not look as if whomever is piloting is in particularly good control and while he's rarely prone to simply sitting back and watching train wrecks, literal or figurative, in the moment there is little he can do.

He barely has time to shield himself before the ship rams into the hotel. It's hard enough to rattle the entire building and the accompanying noise is loud and alarming. Arm up, he shields his eyes, coughs away debris, and staggers back. When he looks again, it's to find that... there is a hefty chunk taken out of the wall with what looks like detritus from the ship itself littering not only the roof but, when he gets close enough to see, to the ground below.

The ship itself... doesn't stop. Instead, it steadies, hovers for a moment, then speeds off in the direction of the spaceport.

As much as he would... investigate the condition of the ground below, he can't in good conscience leave this part of the roof unguarded. It's unsafe, and he would never forgive himself if harm befell one of theirs as a result of his... lack of attention.

He already atones for enough.
(Weetzie learns what a "mostly" granted wish means.)

October 30th, 2010

July 21, 2074

Share
Incognito
It's so easy to disappear when he feels it's necessary. He was good at it before his training with Ducard. How else could be have vanished so completely that the world thought he was dead for seven years? But that was then; now, if he chooses not to be seen, he won't be, not by anyone but the most acute observer, and they're not very common to find.

He doesn't want to disappear today, but he does want to blend in. So his dress is casual, his posture relaxed, and he's sitting on a bench outside a clothing store in the city. There's a nearly full takeaway cup of coffee from a nearby cafe in his hands. He doesn't look like he's doing anything in particular, except enjoying the perpetually perfect weather while he finishes his coffee.

But as always when he's out in the city, he's here to learn, to watch, to wait. Soon enough he'll get up and wind his way along a circuitous route back to the hotel.

(no subject)

Share
Default
That first trip off the asteroid might have been a bad idea.

And as much as she likes it here, she's beginning to wonder if staying in this place isn't a really bad idea. She doesn't regret the day she said goodbye to the Doctor. She had other things to do, other people who needed her more. And she'd seen what the consequences of ignoring those responsibilities could be.

But it was easier when she was in her own world. Sure, her work reminds her every day of what she gave up; she only got the job because of the Doctor. But that's not the same as having temptation stop by the spaceport every day.

It's not the same as living in the future and being reminded what it's like to be living in a completely different time.

She wishes she weren't drawn to the spaceport to watch the shuttles come and go and think about all the opportunities that are out there. She's not going to go out there today, she's not. She's just going to sit here in the restaurant and have something to drink.

Tea, she thinks; a little bit of home so far away.

July 21, 2074

Share
Thinking
He knew as soon as he got back to Cardiff that he should have gone sooner. It's always easier to ignore potential problems than to face them, but he knows better than that. It was a relief to get back and patch things up a little, as best he could with a little more time and distance under his belt than he'd had.

It's made being back here easier, even almost enjoyable, for the past week, though he hasn't seen another hotel guest since he got back. In fact, he's almost had to go looking for things to do now that he doesn't have an immediate problem to solve.

Jack steps into the lobby with a bag of entirely unexciting shopping in one hand. Right now, his biggest choice is whether to stop for lunch on his way back to his room or call for room service or just skip lunch altogether. He pauses by the reception desk to consider the choice, and he can't help thinking there's something funny about the amount of thought going into it.

It's a strange change, actually, but it's far from unwelcome. Happiness is almost an alien feeling to him, but contentment ... he'd been getting close to that back in Cardiff before he found himself here.

If he's snatched a little of it back by forgiving Ianto and smoothing over a few ruffled feathers on Gwen's part, he'll gladly take it.

And he'll take lunch, too, he decides, and starts for the restaurant.

October 25th, 2010

July 20, 2074

Share
All's well
It's been a few weeks now since his drinking session with Starbuck up on the roof. At first, he felt a little sheepish about the fact that he'd gotten so drunk he'd had to be helped back to his room by her. Some of his memories might be a little fuzzy, but he remembers that night well enough to know that Starbuck told him to stop by some time and she'd take him out to the used spaceship place.

He's been a little preoccupied of late, wading through books and magazines and whatever he can get his hands on to make best use of Alex Rowe's tactical advice for whenever he manages to get home. But a pilot's a pilot, and he's been too long on the ground for his tastes. Far too long on the ground.

So today, in jeans, shirt, and the closest to a leather flying jacket he's been able to find on this asteroid, he heads out into the corridors of the seventh floor in search of Starbuck.

Of course, it turns out that he didn't quite remember her room number, but after a couple of false starts, he's outside room 753; the number sounds vaguely familiar, and he thinks he's got it this time as he steps forward to knock.

October 21st, 2010

(no subject)

Share
windy smile
(Dinner for two.)

October 20th, 2010

7.19.2074

Share
got you where I want you
She'd hate to jinx anything, but she's been feeling pretty good lately.

And what better way to lengthen the good mood than by doing a little shopping? She's already raided the cosmetics and beauty department, and now it's time to treat herself to a nice new pair of dress shoes.

A pair of strappy candy-apple red heels on display catch her eye from a distance, and she stalks over with intent that's practically tangible on the air around her.

"Hello," she tells one of the shoes as she takes it in both hands.
Powered by LiveJournal.com