john_thane | [RP] Every night I hone my plan, how I will get my satisfaction, how I will blow your paradise away…

Entry tags:

[RP] Every night I hone my plan, how I will get my satisfaction, how I will blow your paradise away…

It's late – or early – when Thane wanders back into the prisoners' room again, pausing just outside the doorless threshold. Hart is asleep, or at the very least docile, and Thane's been going through the Doctor's journal with a fine scan, before anyone gets the idea to retroactively lock anything against him. Psychic networks are tricky like that. Aside from the usual public nonsense, not much has been coming that journal's way.

...except that now, after he thinks he's got most of the backlogged entries down, and flipped to the beginning again...

He came over to ask some valid questions. But the prisoners are talking amongst themselves, none of them asleep even at this awkward hour, and he can't suppress a pang of curiosity. Or what he tells himself can't be a pang of jealous hurt, because he's the one in power here, and what does it matter that they can cling to each other except that it gives him one more thing to take away?

He's got someone to cling to. Or if not cling to, then fuck, and it's not like he needs anything else.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

April tenses when Thane comes in - he'd been at the periphery of her mind, but... well, he wasn't in. And she was paying attention to the stories. It hurts a bit when all her muscles tense, shifting her ribs a little, but she can't relax.

She presses against the Doctor and doesn't look up. Maybe if she just... sits here and doesn't move or make a sound, he'll forget about her and let her just stay here in the Doctor's lap. Maybe.

The strange twinging feeling in her lung every time she breathes says otherwise, but she's trying not to freak out.

Thane hasn't forgotten that April is there so much as decided she doesn't matter for the moment. "Yeah, nice of him," Thane says. "What's real nice is that sources say my being here was a fluke of improbability, and yet somehow, he's coded something into the journals that needs my presence to display it."

He crouches down, bringing him eye-level with the Doctor.

"Precocious man, your Captain. I'm wondering how many of these little love notes he's left, and how many people he's kindly asked to take care of me."

The Doctor shrugs a little. "Your being here specifically... definitely improbable. But I doubt the event of your existence is what he coded into it. Point of no return sort of thing, more likely."

And he did go after one of Jack's team. If there's anything Jack would have been concerned about when it came to backsliding, becoming a threat to them would have been high on the list. He pointedly doesn't glance at Tosh - the Doctor much prefers when Thane's attention is on him.

"I can't tell you that, though, because I honestly don't know. He's difficult to predict at the best of times, and the time just before you arrived, the time when he wrote that note... was not that."

Thane just scowls, and after a moment, he takes the journal back.

"You know exactly what will happen if his allies start coming after me."

"Well, if you were concerned about that, I don't think taking one of his team captive was the best possible plan, all things considered."

Then, it's not as if Jack actually had a lot of allies, before this. Torchwood was about the extent of it, unless you count Elashte, who's... unused to wars, and unlikely to involve himself in this, and a handful of demons.

"His team already had it hard for me, and not in the best possible way," Thane says. His eyes narrow. There are people – probably more people than otherwise would have been – who are going to be after him, but taking that up with the Doctor is hardly going to solve that.

But there's more than that bothering him.

"Who the fuck were you, to him?" He asks. Thane mentioned Harkness trying to curry favor with the Doctor. The note makes it sound like the Doctor was Harkness's master. The Doctor said something – something when Thane had just come into that little office – about wearing his friend's face. Friend. Like they weren't staring over a great gulf of Time Lord imperialism and cultural supremacy. Dog, Thane thinks, is likely to be the more correct term there.

The Doctor raises an eyebrow. It's not hard to keep an eye on Thane's surface thoughts, with April this close to him, and he can't help but smirk a little to himself, hearing it now. "Friend. Like I told you. We travelled together, a long time ago."

And there, in Thane's surface thoughts, is a fairly explicit DOES NOT COMPUTE. Time Agents – the ones as far gone as he is – don't have friends. Partners, occasionally, and that's the kindest term the Agency offers.

And one doesn't make friends with a Time Lord. That'd be like – that'd be worse than making friends with a Chula. If someone has that much power you get the fuck out of their way or curry favor as hard as you can.

So. Dog is the way he's going to translate that, just like diversion is the way he's going to translate all of the Doctor's 'friends' he's got targeted, which rankles, but there's no way he can reach the Doctor's planet, tear that down. Especially not if it was destroyed in the War.

"I doubt that," he says, standing. Because I might not know your kind by anything but reputation, but I sure as hell know mine.

The Doctor rolls his eyes a little, leaning back against the wall. "Of course you do. Do you... often ask questions when you're not going to listen to the answers, or is that just with me?"

"What makes you think I don't listen?" he asks. He listens. Takes in all the words, the tone, the history he knows. But he's an information extractor, not an information recorder – most of what he's handed are evasions and lies. He glances back, over his shoulder, toward Sato. "I tend to get what I'm looking for, anyway. How are you feeling? Pleasantly concussed, I hope. And as you haven't played fast and loose with the lights, yet..."

Despite being nauseous, dizzy, and having a headache, on top of being handcuffed to a pillar, Tosh manages to shoot him a scornful glare. Granted, it's very rare she can't manage a look like that, no matter the situation. Tosh can always find reasons to look at someone like they're an idiot.

Beyond that, she doesn't respond. It's not as if he doesn't know the answer anyway. She tried to make the lights flicker when she first woke up, just to see if she could - the resulting pain was enough to convince her not to try again for some time.

Thane walks over. Oh, the old defiances. They all start out that way.

"If you're trying not to give me the satisfaction, love, I'll get it either way. And anticipation makes the payoff sweeter."

He pauses for a moment, then breaks into a grin.

"Oh, but you're fun! You're one of Harkness' harem. I bet there's a reason he liked you. Bet I can find it if I dig hard."

Tosh snorts a little, eying him warily. That is a smile she'd prefer to never see on Jack's face. It's just wrong. She would also prefer if he wouldn't refer to Torchwood as Jack's harem, but she's not going to dwell on that one.

"I don't see a point doing anything to the lights, even if I could. Then we'd just be sitting here talking in the dark." She pauses a moment, and then adds, in a low mutter more to herself than to him, "And I sincerely doubt it."

Thane's grin widens, then disappears. He wrestles himself around into another headspace, adjusts his tone and cadence and the quality of his vowels, the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes.

He may only have met Harkness twice, but he made an impression. And because that was the last impression before the most trauma he'd ever undergone, it seared its way deep into his memory. It's not a perfect impression, but it's better than passable. It's right, except for slips and telltales.

"I'm sorry," he says, to all appearances genuinely – oh, if Tyler were here, he'd feel it, and it's almost a shame that he isn't. "I know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you thought you could trust."

Tosh's eyes widen for a second, her heart jolting a little in her chest, and then she sets her jaw, makes an effort to slow her heartrate. She'd tell him to stop, but she's fairly certain that's not going to have the slightest chance of working. "You're not him," she says quietly, evenly.

He reaches toward her, hand moving to cup her cheek before hesitating, reconsidering, letting his hand rest on her shoulder instead. The illusion, for the moment, is too good to let drop.

"I didn't say I was." Perfectly reasonable, a little bit soulful, the affront he remembers from Harkness' voice moulded into just the faintest edge of reprove. "I'm just one of his secrets. Something he swept under the rug before you came along. They'll tell you I'm not a person," he says, tilting his head back toward the Doctor and April. "And you can believe that, if you want. If that makes things better."

Eyes on eyes. Everything open and earnest. Posture saying Trust me and tone with regret.

"I know you wish he was here right now, but there's only me."

She can't jerk away from his hand on her shoulder, certainly not without making herself more dizzy and nauseous than she'd care to just now. She glares instead, trying to ignore how much it looks and sounds like Jack, how close it is. "Considering you kidnapped, concussed, and then handcuffed me to a pillar, I hope you'll forgive me if I don't take that as a comfort."

"I know. And I'm sorry that there's nothing I can do about that." Show no reaction. No annoyance. Just concern. "But I suppose Jack would never be prepared to hurt you, and... it's necessary."

'Jack'. Not Harkness. Powerful thing, familiarity.

"You know, they train us," he says, letting the hand slip in toward the collarbone. "So we know every bone and muscle in the human body. Every nerve and gland and reflex. And after a while, that's how we see people - these muscles, these sensations. It takes a keen interest in bodies to be good at what we do."

Up along the collarbone, fingers resting in an arc over her pulse.

"It makes us good at this. It's not the only thing it helps with. You've got a strong heartbeat."

Tosh snorts a little scornfully as he says Jack would never be prepared to hurt her. Someone hasn't done his research. She tenses a little as his hand moves, tries not to react beyond that, but that last comment gets a slight frown. She's almost certain she doesn't want to know what her heartbeat has to do with it.

Thane raises an eyebrow at that. "Or maybe he would," he tries, still prodding very gently. "Like I said, kitten, it's training. We know how to get inside you and make you feel... anything."

He steps back. One of the Doctor's favored humans, one of Harkness's little team, there's no real question in his mind that she's going to be first. And oh, isn't that going to be fun? If there's one person he wishes could be here, it's Harkness. He hasn't paid the man back for everything he's done.

"You're number one, kitten," he says, letting the Harkness facade melt into a grin, reaching up to pat her cheek. "Big day today. You get a couple hours of sleep, if you can."

"Leave her alone," April protests quietly from the Doctor's lap. She's scared, and she doesn't want the Doctor to get hurt more, but... Well, she may be terrified of being hurt, but that doesn't mean she's terrified to sit back and watch the same thing happen to someone else. No one should have to go through anything like what the Academy put her through - breaking her and hurting her and not caring that she was a person.

Of course, however, the moment the words are out of her mouth, the has to bite her tongue (literally) to keep more from coming out.

Thane turns around and walks back toward the other room with no indication that he heard April. For the time being she's inconsequential. Unworthy of attention, unworthy of response. Let her whistle in the darkness.

He'll wait a couple hours to see if Sato does sleep. If she does, he'll see if it hits REM. If not, no bonus, no foul. The work of systematically dismantling the Doctor's life begins.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[RP] Every night I hone my plan, how I will get my satisfaction, how I will blow your paradise away…

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject