(no subject)

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[seated in an ornate armchair, speaking in fluent, articulate, and rather pleasant-to-the-ears Gallifreyan]

It's actually a bit disgusting, hearing you lot speak Gallifreyan so primitively. Like chanting off - no, that metaphor's incomprehensible without a background in high mathematics. Fine. Like writing Calculus and finding everyone else doing basic algebra.

[then he changes to Russian - less articulate, of course, but he's comfortable with the language]

This one, though, this one's a bit ironic. Look at me, the Master, the deathless, blathering on in Russian. Haven't been in ages, should probably go back and put a few more legends into the locals.

[sips from his wine, and slips back into Gallifreyan]

At least the people of the city still understand me.

Comments

Italian

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Eye roll- the fact it's the Master is enough to let him know he doesn't like what he's saying.]

You're lucky I didn't understand that.

Gallifreyan

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

I wonder if I can pretend I misheard you and use it as an excuse to kill you?

[there's no obvious movement, but like a magician's wand, the screwdriver is suddenly in his hands. He smiles]

Italian

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Ianto's movement is slightly more obvious, but who is he to turn down the chance to point his gun at the Master?]

Put it down.

Russian

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Oooh, threatening a man who can't even understand you. I'm quite ashamed, Ianto Jones.

Italian

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

If I could understand you, I'm pretty sure I'd be disagreeing with you right now.

Russian

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[takes a casual sip from his wine]

I think getting a gun pointed at you loses its effect after the first hundred times. Hasn't done a thing for me since I was three hundred.

Tibetan

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

I take it you aren't intending to put your screwdriver down?

Russian

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[he throw's a hand out in something like a shrug] No idea what you're saying, Mister Jones.

Italian

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Motioning towards to screwdriver then pointing down.] Put it down.

Russian

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Oh, now I have an idea. I still don't care. You know, this is reminding me of that trip I made, to Sicily in the 1950's, what with your suit and your gun and your Italian.

Italian

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Okay, now the saftey's coming off. Apparently Ianto's an idiot.] Put it down. Now.

Russian

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Ianto, if you shoot me and ruin this armchair, I'll be very upset.

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Ianto just watches him warily, having no idea what he's saying.]

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[raises an eyebrow]

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Fine. Lowering it-- but only because Jack would kill him if he did something that would really piss off the Master.]

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[beams] Very well done, Mister Jones!