likesthecoat: (Default)
likesthecoat ([personal profile] likesthecoat) wrote in [community profile] milliways_bar2010-02-21 07:07 pm

(no subject)

Ianto Jones is writing in his diary and having coffee.

There's a lot of catching up to do--things happen fast sometimes, and it wasn't but two pages ago that he was missing Jack and wondering what he'd say if Jack ever returned, and now...

Well, Ianto doesn't use a lot of exclamation points, as a general rule. But one or two may have turned up in today's entry.
walking_napalm: (nothing's changed)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
"Nothing good ever happens when people go camping," she says, wry.

"Cannibals are a new one for me, though."
walking_napalm: (flame on)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
Ianto can't possibly understand why Liz laughs at his second sentence, but he will momentarily. She lifts her head out of her hand and keeps her hand up, her elbow still on the bar.

Red-orange-gold flames (blue close to the skin) coil around her forearm with a low whump, racing up and around her arm, turning the rubber bands on her wrist to ash (but leaving her jacket sleeve unscathed), until they dissipate into nothingness -- sinking back into her skin -- from above her fingers. It all happens in a flash and then the heat has gone and her hand shines from within, finger bones backlit like an x-ray.

Within a split second, her skin looks entirely ordinary again, no longer covered in fire or translucent with eerie light. Liz's eyes fade from red-orange back to their normal brown. It gets easier, less nervewracking, to reveal that to someone every time she does it.

"Firepower's not exactly an issue." She brushes ash from her wrist.
walking_napalm: (fond)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
That reaction earns Ianto a couple more solid points in Liz's book.

The idea of coming from a race of fire-handler people makes her smile. There was a time when it might have made her laugh outright, but it doesn't seem quite so farfetched after training with Zuko of the Fire Nation.

"Don't know what causes it," she says, taking the questions in order (and mostly in stride), "no, and I'm the only one, as far as anybody knows."
walking_napalm: (please listen to me)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
"Not really," she says, after a second or two. "There are only a couple of us working for the Bureau, and by now, they know what we're capable of and that they can't figure out what causes it."

Well. Besides Red. Special abilities are kind of a part of the package deal when you come from a hell dimension; everyone knew that from the beginning.

"I'm more in the defense branch than the research."

For obvious reasons.
walking_napalm: (dreamy)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
Her eyes flick away for a split second. It's a reflex when she's not entirely comfortable; left over from the old days when she didn't hold eye contact for longer than a few seconds at a time.

(When she first came to the Bureau as a teenager, there were a lot of tests.)

"Yeah," she says, in relatively good humor. "Plus, I'd scorch the slides, so." She lifts one shoulder in a bit of a shrug.
walking_napalm: (teasing)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
The shrug is a little more defined, this time. "I'm not usually a suit dealing with county sheriffs," she says. (Read: she's not usually a law enforcer, so it's not so bad.) "But I do appreciate this place." Her mouth quirks. Dry: "Halloween costumes and all.

"People here have really different ideas of what's weird or scary." That wry expression shifts into something a little less sharp. "It's nice not to have to hide."
walking_napalm: (pretty smile)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 05:51 am (UTC)(link)
Her smile curves up. "Exactly. No one looks twice. Nobody stares, nobody takes blurry pictures and sells them to the National Enquirer."
walking_napalm: (loves you)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
Ianto will find himself on the receiving end of something that not many people see on a first meeting: an ear-to-ear smile from Liz Sherman. Ianto gets it. He really, really gets it.

"No gas leaks," she says. "No 'mass carbon monoxide poisoning.' " She illustrates the falsehood with finger quotes. "No 'classified Homeland Security operations.'

"Just dinner with my boyfriend."
walking_napalm: (fond smile)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 06:32 am (UTC)(link)
"No red emergency lights or sirens."

(The Bureau literally has those in the walls. One of Liz's least favorite ways ever to be woken up; even more so than waking up while on fire or with a cat sitting on her head.)

Just life, Ianto said. Liz's smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

"I guess I can live with Halloween in exchange for that."
walking_napalm: (amused sidelong)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
She waggles her fingers at him; glances over her shoulder as he goes, faint smile still lingering, and then turns back to the important business at hand.

Namely, convincing Bar that Liz is absolutely going to be responsible with it if Bar gives her a drugged glass of juice. She is absolutely not going to feed it to the county sheriff who is tripping all over the Bureau's investigation and making a royal pain in the ass of himself.



Surprising no one involved (least of all Liz, who was not exactly serious), Bar does not grant the request.
walking_napalm: (red - hug)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 06:32 am (UTC)(link)
[Fade soon, maybe? I am loving them so much ♥♥♥, but I need sleeps soon.]
walking_napalm: (babies)

[personal profile] walking_napalm 2010-02-23 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
[yis yis! Thanks for lovely thread; they will have to talk again sometime!]