I've worked on Chapter 7 like a demon today, since tomorrow we'll be busy with my uncle's funeral and all the social stuff surrounding it. I've all but finished it, save for the last fighting scene. I'm optimistic that I'll manage to get the chapter ready for posting before this pico session ends.
Excerpt: Sandra gives him a look of mock disgust. “You’re annoying, you know that? Have always been. You and your smug I-know-everything attitude.”
“Thank you,” Ianto returns, straight-faced. “I’ll take that as a compliment. The thing is, though: I do know everything, at least where alien species are concerned. It was my bloody job at One as a junior archivist.”
Sandra frowns doubtfully. “Did One ever come across these catfish people?”
“No,” Ianto admits, “but I read up on 22nd century aliens while with the Doctor. I was… interested.”
“And with that freakish memory of yours, of course, you haven’t forgotten a thing,” Sandra grumbles. “It’s not fair.”
Ianto shrugs. “We all have our gifts. I could never get into alien technology to understand it from within the way Suzie did… and you do, I presume.”
“Yeah, and a fat lot of good did it do her… or me,” Sandra replies flatly. “Getting obsessed with that fucking glove and killed for it… twice.”
“It’s always dangerous to tinker with things beyond our understanding,” Ianto agrees. “Well, come on then; the captain’s waiting and we’ve got to go down seventeen levels.”
Oh, yes! People tend to forget that Ianto is one of the only 28 people - out of 800+! - who survived Canary Wharf, and that with his sanity more or less intact.
A Matter of Time
Excerpt:
Sandra gives him a look of mock disgust. “You’re annoying, you know that? Have always been. You and your smug I-know-everything attitude.”
“Thank you,” Ianto returns, straight-faced. “I’ll take that as a compliment. The thing is, though: I do know everything, at least where alien species are concerned. It was my bloody job at One as a junior archivist.”
Sandra frowns doubtfully. “Did One ever come across these catfish people?”
“No,” Ianto admits, “but I read up on 22nd century aliens while with the Doctor. I was… interested.”
“And with that freakish memory of yours, of course, you haven’t forgotten a thing,” Sandra grumbles. “It’s not fair.”
Ianto shrugs. “We all have our gifts. I could never get into alien technology to understand it from within the way Suzie did… and you do, I presume.”
“Yeah, and a fat lot of good did it do her… or me,” Sandra replies flatly. “Getting obsessed with that fucking glove and killed for it… twice.”
“It’s always dangerous to tinker with things beyond our understanding,” Ianto agrees. “Well, come on then; the captain’s waiting and we’ve got to go down seventeen levels.”
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Ianto shrugs. “We all have our gifts...
Calm. No false modesty.
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I hope tomorrow isn't too hard on everyone.
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I like Ianto's dialogue, it is dry and sharp.
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So says a man who learned that the hard way!
I'm sorry to hear about your uncle, I hope the funeral goes as well as these things can.
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Thanks for the condolences. I'm not particularly shaken, myself, but for Mum it's hard to bear; he was her only sibling.
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So says a man who learned that the hard way!
I'm sorry to hear about your uncle, I hope the funeral goes as well as these things can.
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