✘ 46

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Angst Man Ianto is at the bar. Again. This time he isn't doing anything constructive-- just drinking. Judging by the half empty bottle of whiskey, he's been at it a while.

He's discovered Tosh can no longer remember the Plane. He can't bring her here either. He's tried that, already. Not only that, but she's forgotten the Year. He probably shouldn't be upset about that, knowing all too well how awful it was, but he is anyway; in part because of how alone it makes him feel.

Tosh's inability to come here has forced him to finally notice some other disappearances too. There no longer seem to be as many Contractors in Cardiff, and Myfanwy's fish supply hasn't been depleted quite as fast as he has been lately. He hasn't seen either of them on the Plane lately.

Someday soon something nice needs to happen to him. He's been through too much lately.]

Comments

[dritte-tochter.livejournal.com]

[this is Suiseiseki. this is Suiseiseki trying to be sympathetic to your obvious sorrow, but she has, unfortunately, eaten Xellos' cursed food, so she doesn't have much choice in what she says. but be assured, it really is meant to be kind, or something!]

Tablespoon whipped pomegranate, yellow?

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[He looks up, blinking as he tries to process what she just said. He misheard her. He must've. Either that, or he's drank much, much more than he thought.] Pardon?

[dritte-tochter.livejournal.com]

[frowns, because that came out all wrong! so she'll try again]

Tablespoon whipped pomegranate, yellow? [whaaaaaaat the heck] A-android snowball chrysanthemum! Christmas past the waterhole, yellow?

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Congratulations, Suiseiseki. Ianto's temporarily out of his funk. And is trying to work out what the hell is going on.] Did the Twins do something to you?

[dritte-tochter.livejournal.com]

Cranberry sauce and fruitcakes, yellow...

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

Try body language? Nod if the Twins have done something, shake your head if they haven't, and shrug if you don't know.

[dritte-tochter.livejournal.com]

[shrugs as best she can]

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

...is there any other way you could communicate until you can sort this out? Writing, or something?

[dritte-tochter.livejournal.com]

[shrugs again, but she really doesn't know if writing would be any better]

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Well, this definitely isn't the easiest conversation he's ever had...] Can you say anything that makes sense?

[dritte-tochter.livejournal.com]

[frowns again, then] Superglue, yellow.

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

You're saying yellow a lot... [Because clearly pointing out the obvious is useful.]

[dritte-tochter.livejournal.com]

[pouts] Water fowl and riboflavin dance in the lamps, yellow?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[a nice thing is the Master who isn't the Master? Rassilon has decided his exploration of the Plane now requires an exploration of the things in the bar. And it would be rude not to say hello]

A pleasure to meet you.

[nod of salutation!]

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Well, it sounds like a question, so...] I don't know?

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

[Except Ianto doesn't realise the Master is not the Master. Whoops?]

Don't you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, I'm not in the mood to deal with you?

[dritte-tochter.livejournal.com]

[and she goes back to wibbling because no one understands her]

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[Rassilon actually stares. People don't usually yell at him randomly. Politeness is clearly the optimal solution]

I don't believe we've met. I'm Rassilon. I apologise if I have intruded.

[damnfinecoffee.livejournal.com]

Of course we've met. You're the Master. You don't actually expect me to think you're like S-- [And then it clicks that Rassilon actually doesn't sound like he was expecting that sort of reaction at all. And he isn't dressed like the Master...]

Where are you from?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Ahh, of course. I should have expected that. You are not the first to have mistaken me for that man. It is odd that one of Gallifrey's future children should grow to share my face, but I am Rassilon, Lord High President of Gallifrey. I pre-date your 'Master' by many years.