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Tweak says, "Neil Young is God!"

vc_player_npc (vc_player_npc) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-16 13:40:00

Entry tags:

!dropped, !incomplete, day 08, ianto jones, jack harkness, location: museum, npc

Day Eight - Morning
Who: clone-Ianto Jones, Ianto Jones, and OTA museum-dwellers
What: Enigmas collide
Where: Out on the porch of the museum
When: Day 8, morning
Rating: TBA
Status: Active

A slow, intentional blink of his eyes and deliberately indulgent roll of his neck was the first thing that Ianto Jones felt when he came into existence. From the tree line, knee deep in snow and shielding his eyes from the sun, he looked out at the building before him. The museum. Yes, this was where he lived. He thought. He was almost certain. Slowly, a grin that didn't quite meet his somewhat menacing eyes spread over his lips and he rolled his neck and shoulders one more time before heading toward the building.

There was a jagged movement of his head to the side, a bit like a tic, as he made his way up the road, flexing his fingers and studying his hands in front of him as he did so. So this was what it was like to have a body. Things were still a little fuzzy in his mind. There was a blonde girl...and a slew of men ranging in age from teen to mid-life, at least by appearance. That much, he knew. And he knew that he was inside, or maybe that he should be. Ianto wasn't entirely sure, actually, what had become of his original self. He didn't care. Hopefully, the original had been taken by those who had created this version of Ianto; it'd be easier to infiltrate if he didn't have to come face to face with himself, after all.

He stopped on the porch, bending to brush the snow from his pants uselessly even as he stood in it and he scooped up some of the snow, then, standing rigidly erect as he balled it in his hands, awed of the sensation. Wet, but solid. Cold, but warming against his skin. He chucked the snowball, then, and watched as it soared through the air before dropping out of sight into a drift of snow across the road and Ianto leaned forward, his hands on the railing, staring out into the nothing and everything of the town.

Going indoors was an option, but he'd prefer waiting to see if anyone came out, first. Or, perhaps after a few moments of settling into this new body and muddled conscious mind, he would peek in the windows to assess the current situation inside. He felt no cold other than the tangible tactile sensation fading in his hands from having held the snowball; the sun was still coming up and the wind was blowing, but he couldn't really feel the warmth on his face or the bite of the breeze on his skin. Interesting.

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madeinwales
2009-05-16 03:22 pm UTC (link)

Come morning, Ianto woke a bit on the rumpled side but by and large, none the worse for wear. Grooming with a bottle of water wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do, nor the best use of water, but he certainly felt a hell of a lot better after a wash and a shave. Besides, scruff on Ianto looked a little on the ridiculous side. The only thing that could be better would be a cup of some sort of coffee, but beggars couldn't be choosers, he supposed, as he tugged on his waist coat and made his way outside for a breath of fresh air. Over the course of his morning ablutions, he saw snow melting and wanted to gauge the temperature out there.

Only, there was someone already there. The backside didn't look at all familar, and strangely sort of did, but Ianto pushed it aside since that made no sense. "Excuse me, didn't know someone was already out here. Just out to get a breath of air. Bit whiffy inside." Musty and dusty and dank in certain places. That was the charming old museum, though Ianto had full intentions on exploring.

Ianto came alongside the other man, leaning against the railing himself, and glanced to the side.

And then stared.

He knew that face as well as he knew his own. Because it was his own.

"Oh. Oh no. No, no. No no, this is.. no. No. The position of Ianto Jones has been filled and I don't have a twin. No!" As if the force of his denials could evaporate the other .. him into the morning sunlight. So far, it wasn't working.

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vc_player_npc
2009-05-16 03:57 pm UTC (link)

The door of the museum opened and Ianto had to keep himself still, mainly because if he turned too quickly, he thought he might spasm. He was still, after all, adjusting to the body surrounding his conscious mind. The person stepped up beside him, also leaning against the railing and Ianto's eyes slid over to look without moving the rest of his head.

"I don't mind," he replied, smirking to himself if only for a second. So they hadn't disposed of his original copy. Damn. Ah, well, that would make the challenge all that much more interesting. He wondered how long before the original Ianto--

There it was. Whipping his head to the side in a jerky - dammit, come on, now...that'll be a dead giveaway - motion his eyes widened and he feigned shock at the sight of his original self. "Whoa, whoa," he said quickly, holding his hands up defensively. A few snippets of memories flooded into him, causing him to blink rapidly as he processed them.

Torchwood. Rift. Jack. Owen. Tosh. ...no, scratch the last; they're dead. Gwen. ...Lisa? He couldn't see the face of the last one, but he didn't suppose it really mattered much. Rift was the one he was going to use.

"Relax, relax," he insisted, giving the real Ianto a serious look as he continued to hold his hands out in front of him defensively. "I think what we have here...is simply a hiccup of Rift activity. We're clearly us...from different points in time. There's no need to panic...right, we'll just find Jack. He'll know what to do." The tone in his voice was calm, low, and confident. Huh, apparently this Ianto fellow really trusted whoever the hell Jack was...

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madeinwales
2009-05-16 04:26 pm UTC (link)

Well, that would be even worse, wouldn't it? Paradox. Ianto drew back, drew his arms in close and continued to stare at the other him. The other Ianto. How wrong was that? "You can't be serious." The coincidence would be just too great for that, wouldn't it? Besides, they weren't anywhere near the Rift, were they?

Granted, though, there were Weevils about. That spoke of a Rift or something similar. Doubt eased its way into Ianto's head and he took a second look at the other Mister Jones. "I've seen shape shifters," he started, uncertainly. "What's to say you aren't one?"

Jack might know what to do. Somehow, though, he wasn't so sure. Yes, he did trust Jack. It was a bit absurd, but he did and he wasn't apologetic about it. And, apparently, this Ianto trusted Jack as well. Or at least knew to ask for him.

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vc_player_npc
2009-05-16 04:42 pm UTC (link)

Ianto blinked. The real Ianto's thoughts ricocheted through his head, ripping into his own thoughts like shattering glass; jagged, raw, and painful. "It's my best guess," he offered apologetically.

Paradox...paradox...why do I know that word? Fuck it, I'll just use it back at him.

"Problem is...the possibility of a paradox which is..." he sighed, frowning, "decidedly bad." Hopefully I interpreted that correctly or he'll really never buy it... he thought miserably.

And already, the real Ianto was doubtful. "I've seen shape shifters as well. Being that we're the same person, and all," he shot back with a furrowed brow. "If I was a shape shifter would I know about the Rift? Or Torchwood?" he asked and then decided to up the ante and hope for the best. "Would I know about Lisa and the Cybermen?" he tried. God, he hoped that happened far enough in their past that it wouldn't throw him off his facade even worse.

The fact that he was void of emotion, sounding and looking numb and monotoned as he said it might be a bit of an issue, but he couldn't remember details and he wasn't sure who exactly Lisa was; just that he could see her face - sometimes a normal, pretty black woman and sometimes with metal partially encasing her.

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madeinwales
2009-05-16 07:36 pm UTC (link)

Oh, this was just bloody weird. Ianto wanted to go run screaming through the melting snow, but he managed to stay his ground and stare himself down. Oh, God, he's staring himself down. A hand drifted down towards a hip bearing no gun, then up to an ear with no bluetooth and finally just hung there on the end of his arm, dejected. "Do you even know what a paradox is?" he snapped and took another careful step back, just in case the other him decided on violence.

And then he mentioned something Ianto tried very hard never to have mentioned to him. Lisa. Oh, God. The words struck the air out of Ianto, leaving him breathless for a moment while his head reeled. But it was the monotone, the bland textured words, that struck Ianto out of his panic. If that being was truly Ianto Jones, he wouldn't be able to say Lisa's name like that. He wouldn't be able to bring up Cybermen without the little flinch that Ianto tried to suppress and failed to do so. Just a little tic of muscles, nothing more, but it was still there.

Ianto turned his head and yelled, "Jack!" towards the door. He needed some sort of grounding with this mess. And with whatever this thing with his face was. Ianto wasn't a small man and he, ah, was evenly matched with himself if it came to a take down.

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capt_harkness
2009-05-17 03:40 pm UTC (link)

For the majority of the night, Jack had been able to watch Ianto sleep, save the occasions when he rose to make rounds in the museum. The one who couldn't sleep had the right to make sure the others were kept safe. At various points in the night, Jack made his circuit around the museum, looking for anything out of the ordinary. All in all, it had been a quiet night.

He returned early-morning, frowning at the lack of Ianto. Still, though, wasn't out of the realm of possibilities and it was entirely likely there was a good reason for the sudden disappearance. Didn't at all mean that Ianto had gotten plucked for an experiment either. Or, at least, so he hoped.

Jack rubbed at his jaw, wondering if it was worth a stop at the convenience store to try and find a razor when he heard Ianto call out. That wasn't a good sort of yell either. Jack scrambled to his feet, hauling ass to get outside where he promptly skidded to a stop, eyes flicking back and forth between Ianto and... Ianto. Once more Jack reached for his gun and cursed when he came up with nothing.

"The hell is going on here...?"

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vc_player_npc
2009-05-17 03:56 pm UTC (link)

Bollocks...maybe he had made a mistake. Perhaps paradox was the wrong word for the statement Ianto was trying to make. "Of course I do," he snapped back at the original Ianto, in the very same tone of voice, furrowing his brow. He opened his mouth to try once again to calm the actual Ianto when the other man shouted for Jack.

Here went nothing... While the other Ianto's head was turned, this one's head jerked in another tic-like spasm. Damn. That severely needed sorting out before someone saw. He'd never be able to pass himself off as the original Ianto if he kept jerking around like that. He rolled his shoulders again.

Out came Jack and this Ianto held his hands up defensively once more. "Jack...we've got a bit of an issue," he sighed. "As you can see. I'm fairly certain I've become Rift fodder." He paused and frowned slightly. "Apparently twice over?"

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	madeinwales 2009-05-17 04:03 pm UTC (link)
	Instead of answering, Ianto stared at Jack, eyebrows raised. Clearly, Jack didn't believe this, did he? They had a silent sort of rapport, silent conversations in the lift of an eyebrow. Surely Jack could read him now, right? "Bit of an issue, yes," he agreed with himself after the double spoke. "That's not me. It can't be. It's too convenient." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

capt_harkness
2009-05-17 04:21 pm UTC (link)

Jack was still caught looking back and forth between the two Iantos. On one hand, this was a bit of a fantasy come true. Which, had this been Cardiff, Jack would have been far more inclined to have a bit of fun. Givenwhere they were, however -- Jack wasn't about to take any chances. Arms crossed in front of his chest, Jack stood with feet apart and looked back and forth between the two men.

Right.

"I don't know which..." Jack shook his head, eyebrows knitting together. "Shapeshifters are too good at this." Jack took a step towards the real!Ianto and sniffed, then took a step towards the clone, sniffing as well. The same. What the hell. "Unlikely that the Rift could send two of the same person forward, though not out of the realm of possibilities either. Just highly, highly unlikely."

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madeinwales
2009-05-17 04:29 pm UTC (link)

The delicate little sniff was spotted as was the confused expression Jack wore. "Oh, no, we do not smell the same. We can't smell the same. He is not me, Jack. He .. didn't know about Lisa." The phony knew of Lisa, but not the raw emotion and pain behind it. Otherwise, how would he have been able to talk about it in such bland terms?

This was unbelievable. Ianto passed a hand through mussed hair in a very familiar nervous gesture. "Alright. Alright, we've got to think through this." Because otherwise he was going to panic. And the world really didn't need a panicking Ianto. Mainly because he was so .. ineffective when he panicked.

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vc_player_npc
2009-05-17 04:37 pm UTC (link)

Ianto stood still, minding himself so as not to set off any unintentional muscle spasms while he was growing into the body. That would put Jack right on his scent, so to speak. And, actually... It took quite a lot of effort for Ianto not to smirk at the way Jack sniffed at them both. Of course the Powers had taken that sort of thing into account, what with people like Jack himself as well as Logan and Laura roaming around with heightened senses.

"We would smell the same if we are the same," he said pointedly although a bit sadly just for dramatics. He shook his head. "Of course I do. It's awful what happened to her...the...pteredactyl and..." he paused and looked down.

Was that...? Did he actually feel a tug of the proverbial heartstrings when he saw that image just then? That couldn't be right, could it? He wasn't designed to feel, right? He looked back up, his face drawn. "I prefer not to think of it or talk about it more than I already have, if you wouldn't mind. It's not exactly a fresh wound, but it's most certainly not healed," he said solemnly, looking back and forth between the two.

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