InsaneJournal

Tweak says, ""Ready to go...""

madeinwales (madeinwales) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-09 21:53:00

Entry tags:

!dropped, !incomplete, day 07, ianto jones, jean tannen

Day 7. So not in Kansas anymore
Who: Ianto Jones and Jean Tannen and Open
What: Arrival Thread
Where: Forest, somewhere halfway between the clock tower and the barn
When: Day 7, morning
Rating: PG-mumblemumble (colorful and inventive cursing possibly to follow?)
Status: Active

It was cold and it was wet and his head was killing him. In short, it felt like a really bad, really strange hangover. Given who he worked for, the strange part wasn't too terribly odd but it didn't make the pain feel any better. The fact that his arse was freezing made it worse, in fact.

Keeping his eyes tightly closed against what felt like a crisp winter's morning in Siberia, Ianto sat up and immediately regretted it. His forward motion continued as he groaned, loudly, and deposited his head neatly into his hands. His hands were conveniently cold (and numb) and that seemed to help his head an awful lot. Something tumbled off his chest as he sat up, landing neatly in his lap and Ianto peeled back his eyelids to peer blearily at it. Even the subdued lighting under what appeared to be trees stabbed at his eyeballs, though, to be honest, the feeling was starting to fade. Slowly. Too slowly for his liking.

And the box in his lap made no sense. Ianto scrabbled a bit at the lid to open it and while he did so, he took a good long look around. Even if there wasn't much to see. Trees. Snow. More snow. And nothing that appeared to be familiar.

"This .. this.. I think I've become a Rift abductee."

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madeinwales
2009-05-10 09:13 am UTC (link)

Well. Given that the Rift was the bane of Ianto's existence some days, rather large and very temperamental, he felt that it did deserve a capital letter. The Cardiff Rift. Which, really, made it sound like a strange regional dance of some sort. So he just stuck with the Rift. But that was neither here nor there.

The very unarmed man blinked blearily at the string of curses and heaved himself to his feet, after giving the contents of the box a once over. The soggy matches were slipped into a waistcoat pocket where they'd hopefully dry out a bit. The rest...? Well. He supposed that if all else failed, he could put rocks in the socks and beat up his captors. If he could find them.

Once Ianto was on his feet, the headache began to fade a bit more quickly, much to his intense relief. He didn't fancy going about the rest of the day with his head on fire. "Are you alright?" he called, making his way through the snow carefully. There weren't any other footprints, save for the ones he was making. Which meant they were brought here before the snow fell or they were just ... dumped. Who knew which was the correct scenario?

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burythehatchets
2009-05-11 12:39 am UTC (link)

Jean's head was also throbbing, although that took a backseat to the frozen feeling in his extremities- how long had he been out cold out here, anyway? Where was here?

Ah. The man sounded civilized. And cautiously concerned, so he wasn't a complete idiot. Well, good. That made two of them.

"I believe so," Jean called back, his cultured voice completely at odds with his larger frame, slapping at his clothes vigorously to brush the remaining snow from his hair and shoulders.

"I don't suppose you've any idea where we are? Because I'll readily inform you right now, it wasn't snowing where I came from. It wasn't even winter." Let's see, what came next in typical social interactions of this variety, which he would categorize for future reference as a kidnapping with an unidentified stranger as a fellow hostage- he presumed-... ah, yes, introductions. Jean wiped his palm on his trousers before extending a hand to Ianto.

"Jerome de Ferra," he said confidently, slipping into the persona like an old, comfortable glove. "And who might you be?"

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madeinwales
2009-05-11 06:54 am UTC (link)

Ianto was very civilized, though he only played at being a gentleman. Still, he was concerned and for the both of them, given that for all he knew this man was the only other living thing about for miles. Sense said that they should stick together to up their chances at survival. That and the presence of another person was helping to keep the screaming terrors at bay.

"Ianto Jones," he replied and took Jerome's hand in one of his own. His skin was freezing, but then so was Jerome's, at this point. "It was winter where I'm from, but there was no snow. And no forests. It's mostly meadowland. We need to get out of here before we lose extremities to the cold." It never got this cold at home. The sea kept things more or less on an even keel. This was just brutal.

Rubbing a little at a nose gone bright red and stuffed from the freezing temperatures, Ianto looked around, trying to catch some glimpse of anything through the dense trees. "The thing is that I've got no idea which way to start heading. If we can't find anyplace to shelter before dark, we'll more than likely freeze to death." Cheerful thought, that.

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burythehatchets
2009-05-16 11:57 pm UTC (link)

"A pleasure. Or at least, it will be once we get inside. And on that matter, I wholeheartedly concur," Jean said, shaking Ianto's hand more vigorously than might have otherwise been necessary as he attempted to pump blood back into his freezing extremities. Thus far, Ianto had made no moves to kill, maim or otherwise threaten his existence, and Jean hoped it would stay that way. The weather was doing enough of that by itself, and many strange truces had been made under similar circumstances.

"Left, or right?" He mused, chafing his ears with palms gone numb and tingly. "I'm not sure it matters, at this point... just moving is the important thing. I think." Normally Locke took on the decisions of Great Import and Jean just vetoed him when he was being stupid, but he supposed he could delegate with the best of them. "The foliage looks a bit sparser that way," he ventured, pointing, as he gathered up the meager pack that had been left with him and the journal. Thirteenth knew he certainly wasn't dressed for the cold. He hoped Locke had found better clothes than this... assuming Locke was here at all.

"Shall we?"

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madeinwales
2009-05-17 12:26 pm UTC (link)

"I think the path of lease resistance is the more appealing pathway. And the most hopeful, you're right. Let's go that way and keep our eyes peeling. It's disturbing that there's no noise in this forest." He didn't think he could manage a hike through thick brush and bracken, to be honest. Shoes, more suited to running across pavement, weren't doing him much good and his toes were ridiculously numb.

Ianto followed suit, gathering up the little, pathetic survival pack and found some way to carry it without using numbed hands. Those he tucked under his arms and stepped off through the snowy mess. "This is ridiculous," he groused, under his breath.

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burythehatchets
2009-05-19 12:46 am UTC (link)

"It is both disturbing and unnatural," Jean said with a frown as he set a steady but brisk pace through the bracken and icy ground, his breath puffing out into the cold air, fogging up his glasses. He would have taken them off had he trusted his pockets not to have holes cunningly hidden in them somewhere, but he hadn't had time to comb over and sew this latest costume. Ianto's style of dress was undoubtedly something he hadn't seen before, and the man didn't look as if he was from any country Jean recognized, but he supposed he and Locke just hadn't been keeping up with the high fashions in foreign climes as well as they ought, and thought little more on it, devoting his energies instead to other pursuits, such as survival.

"That would be one word for it. I can think of several others, more vulgar and not fit for polite company," Jean replied, squinting through the blinding white to see something, anything in the distance. He had no concept of time anymore, and had no idea for how long they would be trudging until shelter appeared. He thought perhaps he saw a speck of something not snow, but it might have been his imagination.

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madeinwales
2009-05-19 08:16 am UTC (link)

"Disturbing and unnatural, yes," Ianto huffed, arms wrapped round himself for warmth. "And complete bollocks, to boot." He could get more vulgar if the other wanted, but Ianto suspected that the instant he started to swear, he probably wouldn't stop. This wasn't the worst situation he's been in (there were three far worse that sprang to mind) but it's the worst he's dealt with in some time.

"Where are you from?" he asked, trying to distract himself with small talk. Jerome seemed to be doing better with the whole hiking through the cold than Ianto was. But then, Ianto was used to running through a city. Paved streets were very easy to run on. "Oh, if you'd like to use more vulgar words, please do. I generally only pretend to be a gentleman. Politeness gets you far in society, but this .. really isn't society."

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burythehatchets
2009-06-01 11:55 pm UTC (link)

"Oh, I can think of many uncharitable words for this situation," Jean groused under his breath, "some of them that would make one of Drakasha's sailors blush. Society be damned, this is...hellish never-ending tundra." Sadly, this particular traumatic awakening was rather low on the list of 'vaguely life-threatening mornings Jean Tannen has experienced to date'. Freezing to death, while unpleasant and best avoided, wasn't even in the top five ways he'd almost gone to meet the Lady Most Kind.

"That's an interesting question," he hedged, stomping his feet and slapping his thighs to keep his circulation going as he hiked. "I've just come from a rather trying stint as a sailor, which didn't quite agree with me, but the last port in which I docked was Tal Verrar--does that look like a roof to you?" Jean prayed fervently that it was. The building that had almost blended into the snow, the drifts had piled against it so, was squat and fit for storage, but it would do.

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madeinwales
2009-06-03 08:23 pm UTC (link)

Tal Verrar...? That wasn't any city Ianto had heard of and that was just as disturbing as finding himself here. "I uh. I'm from Cardiff." Which would mean very little to Jerome, if Ianto was any judge. But it did look like they were approaching rooftops and that was a perfect reason to pick up their pace. If there wasn't warmth, at least a building would be a better wind break. "It looks like. It really looks like it."

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and close?

burythehatchets
2009-06-10 12:38 am UTC (link)

"Cardiff?" Jean mused to himself, never having heard the name before. He wondered where Cardiff was. "That's...new," he admitted, thanking all the gods he could name and some he couldn't quite pronounce that they'd truly reached some sort of shelter. Kicking in the door wasn't necessary, since the whole structure looked rusted and old, but that hardly mattered. He was fully prepared to hunker down in whatever corner provided him most shielding from the cruel winds and start investigating that suspicious-looking journal. And that container of mystifying pills.

"After you, sir," Jean said, and motioned for Ianto to get in out of the cold. He was ready to follow in approximately two seconds.

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