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Post by whodovoodoo on Aug 24, 2007 11:40:56 GMT
[Chp 22 - Pt 3] As the room lurched leftwards Sylar rolled unceremoniously from the bed and woke up with a start. Then the room lurched equally dramatically to the right. For a room that moved, Sylar thought (for Gabriel had long since allowed himself to be vanquished and had snuck quietly back into the recesses of his own mind), he would have thought the previous occupants might have had the courtesy to tie the furniture down. They had not, he had to hold the bed against one wall with one foot, and the bookshelf up with the other...the books themselves were forming a carpet around his feet. He rubbed the bruise on the side of his head, clearly the albino had worked out a way to suppress his power enough that whatever had knocked him out had yet to heal. He attempted to hold back the furniture using his thoughts alone, let go for a moment with his hands and was instantly barraged about the knees by the bed. What was he without his power? Would it return? Would the effects of what that woman had done wear off? He of course asked himself these questions. But the first one that came to mind seemed paramount...how the hell to get out. Sylar left the furniture to fight itself into firewood and moved to work on the locked door. He thanked himself that he still had his wits. The door of the cell popped open. The hefty thwack the bed had given it certainly helped. A little bit of lock fiddling from a former watchmaker and the fact that turning the room upside down had clearly loosened the hinges also played their part. Sylar stepped into the corridor of the strange building. "Another secret underground bunker..." He thinks. "Another day." Probably best to hide then. He thought. And wandered in the opposite direction to the sound of people. Now he was lost. It was quite simple. Every corridor looked exactly the same. In fact he was positive there was only ONE corridor and that every corner he turned brought him back in on himself like some great evil morbius loop of uselessness. Of course he didn't ADMIT he was lost, not even to himself, because people like Sylar simply didn't get Lost, or Caught, or Duped, or any of those other unmentionable verbs. What he DID succeed in doing was gaining more than just his wits, they had served him well, but they were not going to be enough to get him out. First he managed to lay his hands on a rather nice looking timepiece, which he had never seen before. Excellent design, interesting features. He pocketed that for later analysis. Second, a really big pointy stick. It may have once been a broom, he found it in something that resembles an airing cupboard. Third, what could only be described as a scarily sharp knife from what was the kitchen. Now if he could only find his way to where there was a way out. The door to the kitchen opened, Sylar quickly darted behind it. Claude Raines entered, he wandered about the table for a bit, picking up empty bowls and looking in them. Then he made his way to the fridge, extracts a bottle of milk, polishes it off and filled his pockets with satsumas. He left. Sylar smiled. For an Invisible man Claude always was an easy fool to follow. Claude entered the main room sucking on a satsuma and spitting the pips out as far as he could. It seemed he was attempting to spit one the whole length of the room. Oona and the others were nowhere to be seen and the door was open. He just has to cross to the other side of the room without Claude noticing. He could probably ambush him and cut his throat, he thought, but he had been in a tough situation years before with the man - he was stronger than he looked and not a little bit of a dirty fighter. Of course, now that his other self had returned his memories, he remembered that time he had killed him. He couldn’t explain how irksome it felt to have to do it all over again, as if all the hard work the first time had been a complete waste. Knocking him down would be preferable. Possibly tying him up so he wouldn't be such a nuisance. Especially since Claude wouldn't probably mind if he killed him again, all that guilt had to be eating him up inside still - hell, he practically begged to be killed the last time. No, knocking him out would annoy him much more. Therefore... "I know you're there you know." Came that blistering accent through pip-spittage. "Hatching some ingenious plot are you, or just marvelling at how clever you were to unlock that door...I know! You're thinking of the best way to do me in minus your power right?" "Actually," Sylar shouts back from the darkness, "I was thinking I'd rather just knock you out - but if you'd like me to kill you I..." "Stop skulking Gabriel and come fight me like a real man will you?" "Don't call me that..." "Why, ‘Gabriel’, It seemed you preferred that a few hours ago. Seriously – did you get picked on as a kid?" "My name is Sylar!” He boomed back. "Yeah -" said Claude, " – You know my name?” Sylar smiles, of course he did. “Good,” Claude replied, “because that’ll give me the excuse to beat it out of your head.” He smirked, leant down behind him and produced his own broom handle. Claude ran at him with his broken stick, and Sylar dodged out the other direction toward the door. "Oh, no you don't" yelled Claude, and ran the other direction to cut him off. Sylar flung his own point stick at him, making a jab at his knees but Claude blocked him off and then coshed him round the shoulder with the other end. Sylar parried back with the knife he had found, and managed to cut a chunk out of his coat, the satsumas and other myriad things he had pilfered fell to the floor and rolled under the console. Claude caught him round the head with his stick. Then Sylar got one in on his knees. He fell over. Claude whipped the broom handle down hard on Sylar’s nose, then kicked him in the crotch, he folded like a deck chair. "Oona?" She had appeared in the doorway. "He’s all yours luv." Sylar watched her approaching over his blooded fingers, "Youve bloken be dose," he wimpered Claude shrugged, " It’s not the place I’d be most bothered about, but there you go...each to his own." As Oona took Sylar’s hand, he felt his power draining away. Claude was already on the move, "Think there’s a room we can bung him in down here," he dodged out into the corridor, "you alright for a minute?" he asked Oona, she nodded. He dived into the bathroom, then back into the kitchen, the sound of drawers opening and something being ripped, then swearing, echoed back to Oona, she turned briefly, then shrugged and went back to concentrating on the task in hand. Claude was back, he waved a makeshift bomb at Sylar, "Dib dib and all that, you create any more trouble and we`ll be scraping you off the walls for a week," he nodded to Oona, they hauled Sylar to his feet and along the corridor. Claude moved the key to the outside keyhole and they pushed Sylar in, he collapsed onto the bed. "Damb it" spat Sylar, holding back his head. He really liked his nose. "And don’t forget...any funny business and booom!...oh and in case your interested - no clock." He slammed the door, dropped the ‘bomb’ onto the floor outside and went back into the kitchen, he reappeared with a pile of saucepans tied together, "here grab hold of this." Oona stared baffled, "What is this for?" Claude was busy wrapping string around the door handle, "noise, if he gets any ideas this lot should make enough racket to waken the dead."
"But...the bomb." Claude didn’t answer her, "That should do it, come on" Soon as they were at a safe distance he said, "I don’t think bog roll cardboards and half a loofer will do him much harm do you?" "You mean that wasn’t a bomb?" Claude looked defensive, "where the hell am I supposed to get dynamite from around here?"
As he stuck bits of pilfered cotton up his nose Sylar regarded himself in a nearby mirror. Hardly very Presidential, he huffed, and kicked the bookcase. He reached into his pocket and removes the pretty broken watch he had taken from the bedroom he had earlier wandered into, then reached into his jacket pocket for his old tools, which he always kept with him, like some form of comfort blanket. He set to work taking the thing apart. Taking the watch, first he cracked open the facia. It was amazing what clarity he could reach when he began dissecting such wonderful pieces. It was a trance, like a flow. It was not long before he discovered what he is taking apart is no watch at all, or that it is a watch that has another face. Like himself. The mechanism is quite exquisite, built by a master in the art of coils and springs. But it is still broken. It is dead. He can only fix half of it, at least for now, it would take more time than he had to fix the rest. The question, he wonders, was which half to fix: the watch or the not-watch? He knew which intrigued him more, the power behind the not-watch was bewitching, but incomplete, and intrinsically useless to him, it was a power he knew he had no ability to harness. And so, despite his distaste for his childhood obsession, his adolescent inadequacy, his mature insignificance, he set about fixing the coil. After all, surely it would rather be a perfect watch than an utter nothing... ...but then again, why should it be. Ordinary. Such a horrid, little, word. He turned the watch over, it was ticking, that happy sound. Sylar held it up to his ear. Tick Tock Tick Tock tick tick tick tick But somewhere in the distance, there was a thrumming. A thrumming, drumming, thrumming sound. Such power inside. Such...Sylar turned the watch over. It was singing to him, not the way most things sang, it was a different song. A more persistent 'open me'. He ran his fingers over the watch face and, unable to resist, for what man who wants power could ever resist such a thing, he opened the watch and ... breathed it in.
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Post by whodovoodoo on Sept 6, 2007 16:42:32 GMT
Chapter 23 – Something wicked this way comes. [Chp 23 - Pt 1]
"Actually, the room twelve doors down and to the left. Has a collection of ancient and alien weapons, some hair dryers, and a very volatile explosive labeled nitro-9. Even has a janus thorn. I haven't seen one of those in four years."
Oona snagged a satisuma from Claude's pocket and dug into the rind with her nails, peeling it in strips. She wiped her hand on her new, low rise jeans. She rather liked them. The leather vest she wore tight laced did interesting things for her figure. it also showed a hint of the brand on the back of her shoulder. She would still stick out once beyond the doors of the ship. At least the nice trainers she had also found would make running much easier. "But the Tardis might not like explosions inside of her. I doubt that they make acid reflux medication quite large enough."
She was almost back to normal, power wise. "You want to talk about it?" She pulled a section of fruit apart and dug the seeds out with her nail before biting it in half, wiping the juice from her chin with the back of her hand. "Can't take back the past, Claude. Not even Time Lords can. You can only make sure you don't repeat mistakes and try to be a better person. You're doing a fair enough job." He didn't have to ask if she'd been wandering through dreams last night. Claude shrugged, "I try....sometimes, rest of the time can't be arsed." "So who cures your nightmares?" "If they get truly horrific... I can contact another dreamthief. But we tend to be a secretive lot. And my inability to stay anywhere for long makes me hard to find even if I did put out a call." Oona shrugged and lay another segment of fruit on her tongue, savoring it for a moment before swallowing. "It's one of the downsides to the occupation. And therapy isn't an option unless you want to have to create a gateway in the middle of a psych ward." She half snorted. "Tanelorn is the closest thing I have to home right now. It exists in every reality in some form or another. It's a place for refugees, seekers of peace. Eternal Tanelorn... I can stay there longer than anywhere else. So I have summoned another dreamthief twice, and always there. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stay from our Torchwood friends Cardiff, however. Maybe I can take their nightmares while I visit."
Claude, listened quietly as she spoke, " Its an occupation?" he said surprised, "so you choose to do it, your not born to do it?" "It is an occupation, but one you are born to. Not everyone can do it. Some can, but have other options to earn currency. I was born with the talent, and my mother fostered it. I was already fated to be a soldier for Balance. But that does not pay. Being a dreamthief brings coin. Dreams and nightmares are bought and sold at exotic markets. It is how I purchase food, clothing, supplies, and pay for a small cottage in Tanelorn when I can spend time there." Oona split the last two sections of satisuma apart and ate one. "Money is a universal constant. Or, trade is, at least. I try to earn my way legitimately." Claude shrugged, "I had a legitimate profession once... well fairly legit, " he half smiled to himself. "But that was long ago and far away," he paused. The corridor they were walking had opened out into a courtyard, ironwork tables and chairs were dotted around. They both wondered over to a group of tables and chairs and sat down. Claude emptied what remained of the fruit out onto the table, he peelled an orange, then picked away some of the stringy pith, dropping it into the peel. He split the orange in half and offered part to Oona, she accepted, and they leaned back in their respective chairs. He looked vacantly at the orange peel, "joined The Company," he said suddenly, "seemed like a good idea at the time," he screwed up his nose, "just goes to show, you never can tell."
"Does this company have a name?" enquired Oona, sucking a piece of orange. Claude shrugged, "It had a front," seeing Oona looking puzzled, he added. "Fake ones, to hide what it really was." Oona nodded, " It's name would mean nothing then." Claude shook his head, "nope, unless it meant...well youve seen what it did..." Oona shrugged, "These things happen," Claude bit through a piece of the fruit, "I thought I could put it right, work from the inside," he laughed sadly, " right non started that turned out to be... when they found out..." his fingers formed into the shape of a gun, "bang!" "I thought I had some insurance, and you know what thought did!" "Would you go back to your old profession?" Oona enquired, "If it was something you were trained to do, then surely you would not forget how." Claude gave her an amused look, "Oh it's come in handy now and then, but I havn`t used it properly in quite a while." "Then perhaps it is time you began to use it properly again." He nodded, clearly thinking over the options, " I think perhaps it is." he said and smiled. "In a universe of infinite possibilities, you might build on your skills, maybe start your own business. Sometimes small businesses are more successful than larger ones." Oona sucked the juice from a section of orange. After all, if this garden can exist inside the appearance of a blue box... or rather pocket dimensions can be attached to a fixed point, almost anything was possible.
"Perhaps you should look into private insurance, as well. Information is worth it' weight in gold. What is stored where, who knows what... you'd be amazed what people work out in their sleep." Oona sucked daintily on another segment. Claude glanced at the remains of the fruit, "wonder if theyve got more than one kitchen in this thing."
Oona sighed and shook her head, "Don't you ever think of anything but food?" Claude was already on his feet and heading for the doorway, " 'course I do....this way might be worth a try." Oona rolled her eyes, "How did your mother put up with you?" she shouted after him.
Claude paused, and turned, "How d`you mean?" he asked.
"All this eating...how did she keep the stores together?" Claude suddenly laughed, " She said she`d rather keep me a week than a fortnight,"pausing he suddenly looked embarrassed," come to think of it... she said it a lot." he shrugged, "never could figure out why... thought it couldve been me socks," he added vaguely.
Oona shook her head, "No kidding!" she mumbled to herself and followed him back into the maze of corridors.
Claude was slightly in front, "Think this is the way we came..." he stopped dead, Oona only just managed to stop in time.
A door was open, attached to its handle a piece of string, assorted pans scattered on the floor.
"Sh*t" Claude pushed the door slightly, it swung open, the room was empty.
Oona was right behind him, she peered around him into the room, not realising she was so close he turned quickly, and promptly stood on her foot, she yelled, he apologised, tripped over a saucepan, hopped around swearing and trying to keep his balance.
"He`ll head for the control room, come on," Claude yelled, when she didnt immediately follow him he turned back, grabbed her hand and dragged her after him.
The first thing they saw was the damaged console, Claude closed his eyes, "Oh fantastic! just what we need."
"Perhaps we had better find the others," she said, looking towards the door.
"Do you think you can find them?"
Oona nodded, "what will you do?"
Claude rubbed his chin,he looked worried, "Don`t know yet," he glanced around, "something."
Oona sighed. She was fairly certain Martha still has the crystal on her.
She closed her eyes and muttered the spell to search for it. Yes. Someone had one out there. Now if it hadn't been pick-pocketed.
"I can find someone. I think Martha is still tagged. Just.. be careful, Claude. And take your broom stick." She kissed his cheek for luck and took off into the Cardiff night.
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Post by whodovoodoo on Sept 6, 2007 16:43:18 GMT
[Chp 23 - Pt 2]
"Eating nachos in bed is a pain. The crumbs get everywhere." Martha said, Peter didn't much care, he was busy licking guacamole from his fingers. He'd never been so hungry! They had been murdering Martha's credit card (since it seemed to work) for the last half hour, there was a knock at the bedroom door. "Champagne!" She jumped with glee. Martha rolled over him, grabbed a towel and went to get the door, while she was gone Peter picked up the phone, dialled for an outside line...plugged in the number and let it ring. It kept ringing, his heart ached, then someone picked up. "The Devaux Gallery." Said the pretty voice. His heart stopped. "Devaux Gallery. Anyone there?" He had to say something, he just had to. "Si...Simone?" "Peter?" Oh, hell, she knew him. He'd probably just torn a huge hole in the fabric of space time. "I..." "We've been looking for you everywhere, where the hell are you?" "I..." What could he tell her? He must have just got out of the hospital. In a few days she would be dead. Could he stop that, in this Universe? What would it do? "Peter?" He hung up. Martha came back into bed bearing champagne, strawberries and a huge smile. "Who were you calling?" She said sincerely, bouncing under the covers. He smiled. "Just an old friend." He said honestly. Maybe in this world his other self would make better choices, he'd leave Simone to him. Peter rolls over and stares at the ceiling, Martha's arm lie across his chest.
"You're right." He says. Martha stirs.
"Humm."
"Something's not right." He hadn't been able to help hearing her thoughts. He could stay in that room his entire life with her, he could lock the door and shut out the world, but something smelled funny.
"Not us?"
"Hell no!" He smiled, laughed and rolled over to kiss her deeply. But he pulled away. "We're messing around in a hotel, the Doctor's eating chips and playing house with Rose, someone's wandering around alive that's lying dead on the floor of the Tardis. And I just get the feeling Sylar's that little bit more in control of himself than everyone thinks he is. And Claude is....happy."
"Peter?" Martha asks sincerely. "It's all fine - the Doctor has it all sewn up. Come back to bed."
"No." He shook his head. "I had this dream..."
"We all..."
"Not like me." He explained. "I think it's one of my...I mean not like seeing the future - it's different than that. Because the future can change. More about the real path, things that CAN'T change no matter what you do. This is one of them. I have this horrible feeling if we take Owen back with us..." He tried to explain, "It'll break something no one can fix. Not even the Doctor." Martha pulled the blankets over her chest and sat up, watching Peter pace around the room. He was right, there had to be something wrong. She liked to think that the Doctor knew what he was doing (he was just too brilliant for anyone to keep up), but she couldn't help wondering if his judgement was a bit clouded at the moment.
"The first night with the Doctor, he laid out some ground rules." Peter sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to continue, "He explained timelines and alternate universes and told me there were three steadfast rules. No eating by the TARDIS counsel, no travelling to parallel universes, and no messing with pre-established events. We've already broken the second one and third one, and I'm pretty sure the Doctor never told Claude about the first one, so -- "
"So we're pretty much f**ked."
"Yeah, I think we are."
"God!" Peter shot up from the bed and continued pacing again, hands running through his hair. "Why? Why can't I just be normal? Why do I have to be special and have these powers and know the future?"
"Because then you couldn't help save us." "We have to go back." He said brutally. Shaking his head. "We can't stay...we can't stay and eat Guacamole and French fries and let Gwen take Owen back, or let Claude fall in love, and...the Doctor..."
"What about me and you?"
He ignored her. "Let's stay." He said, sat on the bed and held her hands. "Call me an idiot. Tell me I'm hunger starved. Tell me I've been hit around the head too much, tell me that I'm blinded by...well you. Tell me that imagining things and everything I'm talking about is utter lunacy, and who am I to know what's going on anyway. Tell me I'm wrong." He begged her. He looked so desperate, holding her hands close to his chest, breathing hard, eyes trained on her.
"Tell me I'm wrong, Martha. Tell me I'm just a New Yorker on vacation who fell in love with an ordinary Londoner. Tell me."
"I -- I can't." Pete dropped her hands and stormed away. "Peter, I can't tell you that because you know it's not true!"
"What if we get back and can never see each other again? What if it meant the end of the universe if we did? Would you like that? Could you live like that?"
Martha's mobile rang. "Hello?"
"Martha! Having a good time, I take it? Listen, we're going to have to stay the night here ... Jack and the Torchwood gang are going out for a few drinks. To get Owen back, of course. I hope. I shudder to think of what Jack is like drunk."
"Doctor!" Martha knew she sounded like a five year old at Christmas, but she didn't care. Peter rushed to her side, trying to hear into the phone. "So I've been thinking."
"Dangerous plan, Miss Jones." The Doctor laughed.
"No interference of pre-established events."
"Except for cheap tricks, yes. Third rule of time travel. What about it?"
"Bringing back Owen. It's intereference. You and Rose, interference. Peter and I, interference."
"Weeell, you don't know that! You've mentioned a few times how much you wanted to go to New York. We went there, in fact. 1920s even. Though not a great trip in the end. Sorry 'bout that." Peter snatched the phone away from Martha.
"Doc, we're being serious now. I keep -- I have these dreams. Where the world is melting. My memories from different universes converging together. It overwhelms me and I can just feel the energy burning inside me. Doc, I can't let what I've seen happen."
"Doctor..." He urged. "Something just doesn't feel...right."
The end of the phone was silent.
"I just have a feeling...something's coming."
The response was serious, a tone he had rarely heard the Doctor use, but it meant business, and he appreciated it.
"What do you see?" He asked. Peter told him the dream.
"...and there's something else." He began. The silence at the end of the phone was painful. "A sort of...drumming."
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Post by whodovoodoo on Sept 6, 2007 16:48:25 GMT
[Chp 23 - Pt 3]
By the time they had reached Owen's place it was getting dark. "Right, he'll be home soon, so when he gets here we tell him that the phones are dead in the hub and that's why we all came round here. Okay so I'm thinking, perhaps if we could knock him out and then by the time he comes around, we'll be back in our Cardiff and we can spin him a tale about a weevil." Jack said when they stopped outside Owen's apartment building. "We're not knocking him out!" Gwen protested. "Do you have any better ideas?" Jack asked her. "Yes, actually. We invite him out for a night on the town, make sure he gets plastered and then he definately won't wake up for a while and he won't have to be bashed around the head." Jack grinned. "Brilliant!" "But if we go out, won't we have to get drunk?" Tosh asked looking up and down the road for any sign of Owen's car. Gwen paused, she hadn't thought of that. "Not necessarily." Ianto spoke up. "If we all order water, and order him vodka, then all we have to do is act drunk." "So basically, we just make sure Owen doesn't buy a round." Gwen grinned. They all laughed. "Well that's going to be easy!" Tosh laughed.
They all sat in a row on the curb in silence. They had a plan, and all they had to do is make sure it goes to plan and that they didn't bump into themselves. Gwen sat with her head in her hands thinking. The Doctor had said that this was virtually the same as their world, but with different choices made. So what if she didn't work at Torchwood. What if Owen didn't work at Torchwood. What if they both did but they didn't.... or they still are... Owen's car sped round the corner and his headlights highlighted the Torchwood team as they slowly stood up. Owen stepped out of the car and slowly walked towards them. Gwen gulped. It was him. She felt Tosh's hand on her arm and knew that it wouldn't be right to run over to him and hug him... "Guys? What the hell are you doing here?" Owen asked frowning. Gwen breathed a sigh of relief. He knew who they were and so he worked for Torchwood. That was a start. Jack suddenly grinned walked over to Owen. He put an arm around his shoulder and started walking back to his car. "Owen! We thought we'd all go out. Have a few drinks, meet the people, and have some fun!" The rest of the team joined in with this act and tried to be enthusiastic. "What d'ya say?" Jack asked. Owen grinned and threw his car keys in the air and caught them again. "Sure! But I thought you said we'd meet at the bar later?" "Ah...." Jack started. "Well you know me, always up for a party! We off?" Gwen quickly stepped up beside Owen and took his arm. It felt good to be able to hold him again. "Why don't we take the SUV?" Owen asked looking around the carpark. "It's not with us." Tosh said quickly. "We walked over. I thought Jack could do with the excersise." "Oi!" Jack exclaimed honestly.
They all piled in the car, except Owen and Gwen. "So you're talking to me now?" He accused. "What?" Gwen asked stunned. "Oh, don't act all innocent with me. The mouthful you gave me earlier! I'm surprised I can stand being in the same place as you." "Owen... I..." Gwen didn't know what to say. She didn't know they had been arguing. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry" Although she wasn't apoligising for arguing, she was saying sorry for giving him the gun. "Are we okay now?" She asked nervously. Owen smiled. "Yeah. So you'll do it then?" Gwen was smiling too. "Do what?" They both turned around when Jack yelled out the window for them to hurry up. "Dump Rhys for me." Owen said before ducking in the drivers seat. Gwen stood there stunned. Gwen sat in the back of the car, squashed between the door and Ianto. He wanted her to dump Rhys. Gwen was quite literally stunned. Dump Rhys. For Owen. She loved Rhys, but she also loved Owen. When Rhys died, she was upset and angry, but after a while she moved on and didn't think of it. But after Owen died, she was upset and angry, and she couldn't stop thinking of him. She couldn't just leave Rhys, could she? She had been with him for so many years she didn't know whether she could. It would break his heart. But she would be with Owen. "Okay! Okay!!" Owen held up his hands for silence. By now he was pretty much slaughtered. About three more rounds and he would be out for the count. "So, I say listen mate, I don't have time for this, then he turns to me and says- I'm out of booze!" Owen lifted his glass and stared at it. The Torchwood team exchanged sly glances. "My round I think." Gwen slurred. So far their acting drunk had gone down a treat. "Tosh! Help me carry the drinks!" Gwen and Tosh stumbled away, just as Jack said something apparently funny, because Owen started laughing and nearly knocked over the table.
As soon as they were out of sight Gwen spun around. "Tosh, I don't know what to do!" Tosh looked worried. "What? Do about what?" "Owen! He wants me to dump Rhys for him!" Tosh stood momentarily frozen. Gwen took this oppurtunity to lean over the bar and order five waters and a vodka. "But... he.. I thought him and you..." Tosh stuttered. "I know! Though in this universe we obviously didn't end the affair, and now he wants me to dump Rhys. What do I do?" The drinks arrived. "Tosh please .... tell me what to do." Pretending to be drunk had been fun for Tosh. She was amused to get one over on Owen for a change. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t exactly their Universe but it looked the same although she had a bothersome feeling at the back of her mind that kept her off balance in this world.
She followed to assist Gwen with the next round of drinks. They giggled as they continued their pretence at being drunk for Owens’s sake. Tosh leaned against the bar with Gwen as the drinks were ordered. Tosh wasn’t expecting Gwen’s question when it came. “Owen wants me to leave Reece.” Tosh stared at her friend and gasped not too sure how to respond but Gwen continued. “Tosh what should I do?” “We need to talk.” Tosh said as the barman placed the order onto the tray. “Come on Gwen,” urged Tosh as they returned to the table and if the tray shook violently in Tosh’s hands it wasn’t in pretence. She was shocked at Gwen’s revelation and they needed to talk. Tosh banged the tray down onto the table and Jack responded as if he had been drinking heavily. “Careful there, sweetheart, “ Jack said with a groan , “you’re spilling good vodka .” Jack picked up the glasses and easily found Owens’s drink, by its clearly identifiable whiff. Tosh had the sense still to pretend to be drunk as she announced they were heading to the ladies and dragged Gwen after her. Tosh banged the door open to the ladies room and checked under the stalls to see it was empty. She then turned to face Gwen as she leaned against the wash basins. “Gwen, This isn’t OUR Owen or have you forgot?” Tosh said angrily, folding her arms across her chest as she glared at her friend. “No?” Gwen said with a huff. “I know he’s not but we need to get him to think we are his team mates, or have you forgot that Tosh?” “No, but maybe you can leave answering him for now if you must. We need to get this Owen to come with us and if that means you being “Nice” to him, suppose it can’t be helped.” Tosh shrugged and waited to hear from Gwen.
Owen struggled to his feet and announced to the table. “Going for a piss!” He winked as he passed Gwen returning from the ladies and let her pass him but caught Tosh by the wrist and barred her from following Gwen. “What did Gwen say to you?” Owen hissed in her face, she recoiled from his alcoholic breath but remembered she had to keep up her drunken act. “Nothing.”Tosh lied and stared back at him. His hand tightened around her wrist and made her wince in pain. He knew she had lied but he grinned smugly and replied “Good, you remember that and no tell tales to the boss – got it?” Tosh nodded and freed her arm from his grip and scurried back to the table. She felt she could do with a real drink as she downed her water in one swallow. “We should be getting back to the Doctor. “ Jack said softly then stood up as Owen returned. “Come on Owen I know this new bar – you will love it!” They headed outside rowdy and acting as if drunk. They laughed and huddled together but Tosh veered away from contact with Owen that didn’t go unnoticed. Jack led Owen along having his devout attention, as he spouted forth about the bar and it’s delights. He was lapping it all up. Gwen added her own comments to keep Owen interested. Ianto and Tosh followed behind as they trotted past busy nightclubs and crossed a few streets before turning along to the intersection that would lead them to the Tardis. Gwen, Jack and Owen crossed the street but Tosh and Ianto got cut off by a bus that sped past followed by a large white van. They lost sight of the trio in front of them but as they knew where they were heading they weren’t too bothered about looking for them. “I know a shortcut.” Ianto said as he tugged at Tosh’s arm and led her down a darkened alley at the rear of a nightclub. They trotted along arm in arm then turned a corner heading into the main street and collided into someone. “Oona!” Tosh cried out recognising her friend. Ianto nodded but kept silent as the two women talked. “Sylar’s escaped?” Tosh said clamping a hand over her mouth in horror. “He could be anywhere and I think we need more than guns and things to find and restrain him.” The three exchanged ideas and in the end it was left up to Ianto and Tosh to return to the hub to break in and extract some items that they could use some jiggery pockery on, to confine this evil once and for all. “Where you going Oona?” Tosh asked uncertain if the woman wanted to accompany them Ianto felt uncomfortable when Oona was around him but shrugged his shoulders as he walked off ahead of Tosh, not waiting to hear Oona’s reply. They walked along the road towards the TARDIS. Tosh and Ianto weren't following, and Gwen just guessed that they had taken a shortcut. After all, this was still Cardiff. Jack's arm was slung over Owen's shoulders and he had started singing 'We're all going on a summer holiday.' Gwen felt like shaking her head in disbelief, but to keep up the drunk act she started laughing along with Owen. As they turned the corner, Owen took her hand and held her in a half hug. Gwen didn't resist, she knew she should, but she didn't. Jack could hold up the drunk act enough for the both of them, which was good, because Gwen's thoughts were elsewhere. She knew this wasn't their Owen, but it was still Owen. She could feel his heart beating against her arm and feel his soft breath against her ear. Being with Rhys was great, it was normal. Being with Owen was fantastic, it was ... amazing. She thought back to when they were camping. In the woods. She could almost feel his lips on hers, his breath on her cheeks. 'Where as you and me, we're not cosy at all. We'd be Amazing. And that scares the s**t out of you. It did scare her. Life without Rhys, she couldn't remember what that felt like. But a life without Rhys, meant a life with Owen. Gwen closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them, Owen was smiling at her. "You alright?" He asked. "Yeah, just drunk that's all..." Gwen replied and Owen squeezed her hand a little. She was going to do it. As soon as they got back to their Cardiff, she was going to dump Rhys for Owen.
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Post by whodovoodoo on Sept 6, 2007 16:49:22 GMT
[Chp 23 - Pt 4]
The door was no obstacle now.
It opened at his bidding.
The laughable, almost childish door traps he paid no heed to.
He walked down the hall with purpose to the room he knew the Doctor would keep his varying assortment of wasted weaponry.
He walked into the consol room and considered momentarily leaving with the Tardis in his soul possession. But he did not like this Universe and was highly unlikely to be able to leave it without at least one other Time Lord at the helm.
So instead he took the weapon he held, waltzed up to the console, typed a few instructions in the computer terminal and proceeded to blast a very nasty hole into it. Tardis wouldn't be moving for at least a while.
Did they really think they could keep him contained?
He walked straight out into the Bay and locked the door behind him.
Hummm....Smells like Cardiff. He never liked Cardiff.
Of all the stupid apes that he could have found…this one can rewrite his own DNA….he can do such things.
He walks through the drunken streets of Cardiff, watching lug heads toss themselves out of bars, pretty little things wearing very little that make him smile. He grasps one by the hand spins her towards him and gives her a big wet kiss. She runs off giggling with her friends. He strolls along and picks a fight with a big bald guy with a tattoo on of a dragon on his arm. “Oi, Taffy!” He yells, the man swings a punch, he doges out the way, the man swings another punch, he dodges the other way. Then he grabs hold of the man's brain with his mind and squeezes it like a damp sponge.
Oooo. This is fun. He thought. Perhaps he wouldn’t rewrite the DNA too much, he can cope with being a bit of a mongrel for a bit especially when he has such toys to play with, and this one like power too, what a perfect marriage. Of course when he’s back in the right Universe he can rewrite the rest of the DNA properly. At least this way he will be able to keep under the Doctors’ respective radars, for as long as he needs to.
Get out says a voice in his head.
Shhhhhhhh, little man, it’ll all be over soon.
Taking possession of a new body was always problematic, he never liked it. At first it felt like stepping into very tiny man's coat - tight around the seems, always afraid of popping a button. The human frame was not built to house a Time Lord. What was worse was it seemed that this one was a wriggler. Sort of like putting on the tiny man's coat when the pockets with full of ferrets.
Subduing that part of the psyche was probably his best idea in the short term. A good bottle of whiskey would probably knock it on the head, and like most Time Lords he could hold his drink. Sort of like ...bashing the ferrets on the head with a mallet.
He walked into the nearest bar. Strolled straight up to the bar man and ordered him to line up some shots of whiskey.
The barman obliged, mesmerised, and handed him their best bottle. Down the hatch, he cracks open the bottle of whiskey and surveys the room. Monsters the lot of them; yet, so easy to manipulate, so wasteful and gassy. They had no idea what they were. How dare they survive until the end of the universe, it was grossly unfair.
Don't make bad tunes though. *He taps his foot*. But that's no great effort, they should have heard The Hadrojassics...now THAT was music.
After half the bottle the whiskey manages to clear his cluttered head of the squirmy human enough for him to start formulating a plan. Yes, a very good plan. He was good at plans...plans like leaving just a little bit of himself in that watch...he was also good at plots and neferious schemes, but undoubtably was best at plans...and dancing. He put the empty bottle back in the bar. Amazing what a little whiskey and a little disco could do for the plan formulation cells. They are pleasantly multiplying, replacing useless human ones. He does hope he doesn't overwrite anything useful...maybe he should test how powerful this human body actually still is. Time to take the toys out and rattle them about at bit.
He fixes his glassy stare on one of the reveling humans, a blonde in a short skirt who is waving her arms around in the air exuberantly. He closes his mind around her head and starts to squeeze. It's such an interesting sensation, like wrapping his hand around an egg. When she falls to the ground, blood pouring out of her ears, he fixes his stare on the two nearby.
Two at a time? Not so hard as it seemed at first. He smiles and hold his hand out for another bottle of whiskey. Seems the man inside is a little adaptive, it's going take a little more effort to keep him suppressed. The bar man hands him another bottle blindly. Now with three of them down, he tries another Fibonacci. There are nine people clustered around the already fallen three. They're next. He wonders how many he'll have to kill to get someone's attention? All of them. Shouldn't be too hard. Nearly five hundred people in that place, he let a few go to raise the alarm...still, clearly not enough. He held his arm out for another bottle...he received none. The bar man lay on the floor of the bar, his face buried in a napkin. He laughed, to no one in particular, "Whoops." He said to himself, looked at a fat sweaty man who had died very ungracefully, "Did you see what I did?" He asks the man. Shrugged and leapt over the bar. He has a pounding headache, the only thing that seems to dull it is the alcohol. He'll have to sort that out when he gets a chance...can't risk actually getting inebriated. He had always been a very angry drunk. No...clearly he has to try something else to get the younger Doctor's attention. There was definitely a blonde involved...He remembered. Always had a thing for brunettes back in the day, oh well, tastes change. No...he needs a bigger plan. He clicked his fingers...he knew just the thing. He exited the club, leaving the carnage in his wake. The Heddlu arrive, he walked past them and they didn't even notice.
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Post by whodovoodoo on Oct 4, 2007 10:27:54 GMT
Chapter 24 - Silly Putty.
The phone went dead. "He hung up." Peter said, open mouthed to Martha. "He hung up!" But Martha was open mouthed too. She leant over him to grab her shirt. "What?" He said, now she had lost the ability to speek. "What is it?" She rolled out of bed, grabbed his white t-shirt and coat and threw them in his general direction as she grabbed her shoes and her back pack. "What!" He repeated. "Drumming!" She said. "You didn't tell me you heard drumming." He looks at her blankly and shrugged, "It didn't seem important." She walked over the table, put her fingers on it and beat out a rhythm with her fingers. "Did it sound like that?" She said. Peter nodded. She held out her hand. “There’s something about that…it’s in my head too.” She said. “For a while now.” She said dreamily. He made them invisible as they left the hotel, best way to get out without paying the bill - and after all...it was the Hilton. They ran across St Mary Street towards the bay. He hadn't realised that they had walked so far. Peter didn't really want to risk taking flight when not necessary in such a public place. Martha pulled him down the main road, her eyes skirting the street for any sign of the Doctor. She kept staring at the phone, he guessed he'd been calling from Rose's mobile - withheld number. "Bloody Torchwood" She screamed into the sky. Then ran them both head first into Oona. Oona was relieved to see Martha and Peter. "We've got a problem. Sylar or Gabriel managed to escape and shoot a hole in the Tardis controls. He's loose in Cardiff right now, and I doubt he's out hugging puppies and kittens." "Out...What do you mean OUT?!" Peter glowered, he had found he was very good at glowering these days, and it made Martha laugh. "Out!" Oona enlightened him. "As in escaped into the night. We tried to..." "Don't tell me about trying Oona...Out is not good." He turned to Martha. "Tardis?" She nodded, "Tardis." She agreed. "Shall we go the quick route," he smiled. Martha nodded again. "Oona, we'll meet you there, try and get the others together - we need to rally the troops and get home." He said, and then to Martha, "No matter the consequences right?" "I'm not going to loose you." She said in his ear. "Never said that I would." He clarfied, he never said he would lose her after all...but he feared it. He would have to fly high to avoid glares from the crowd, but they were all drunk anyway...he hardly thought they would care. They flew over the city to the TARDIS, Martha enjoying seeing Cardiff from the sky. The only way to travel ... "Too bad it's not socially acceptable," Peter said with a wink. "Do you read all of my thoughts?" "I can't help it. Sorry."
Owen struggled to his feet and announced to the table. “Going for a piss!” He winked as he passed Gwen returning from the ladies and let her pass him but caught Tosh by the wrist and barred her from following Gwen. “What did Gwen say to you?” Owen hissed in her face, she recoiled from his alcoholic breath but remembered she had to keep up her drunken act. “Nothing.“ Tosh lied and stared back at him. His hand tightened around her wrist and made her wince in pain. He knew she had lied but he grinned smugly and replied “Good, you remember that and no tell tales to the boss – got it?” Tosh nodded and freed her arm from his grip and scurried back to the table. She felt she could do with a real drink as she downed her water in one swallow. “We should be getting back to the Doctor. “ Jack said softly then stood up as Owen returned. “Come on Owen I know this new bar – you will love it!” They headed outside rowdy and acting as if drunk. They laughed and huddled together but Tosh veered away from contact with Owen that didn’t go unnoticed. Jack led Owen along having his devout attention, as he spouted forth about the bar and it’s delights. He was lapping it all up. Gwen added her own comments to keep Owen interested Ianto and Tosh followed behind as they trotted past busy nightclubs and crossed a few streets before turning along to the intersection that would lead them to the Tardis. Gwen, Jack and Owen crossed the street but Tosh and Ianto got cut off by a bus that sped past followed by a large white van. They lost sight of the trio in front of them but as they knew where they were heading they weren’t too bothered about looking for them. “I know a shortcut.” said Ianto as he tugged at Tosh’s arm and led her down a darkened alley at the rear of a nightclub. they trotted along arm in arm then turned a corner heading into the main street and collided into someone. “Oona!” Tosh cried out recognising her friend. Ianto nodded but kept silent as the two women talked. “Sylar’s escaped?” Tosh said clamping a hand over her mouth in horror. “He could be anywhere and I think we need more than guns and things to find and restrain him.” The three exchanged ideas and in the end it was left up to Ianto and Tosh to return to the hub to break in and extract some items that they could use some jiggery pockery on, to confine this evil once and for all.“Where you going Oona?” Tosh asked uncertain if the woman wanted to accompany them Ianto felt uncomfortable when Oona was around him but shrugged his shoulders as he walked off ahead of Tosh, not waiting to hear Oona’s reply. They walked along the road towards the Tardis. Tosh and Ianto weren't following, and Gwen just guessed that they had taken a shortcut. After all, this was still Cardiff. Jack's arm was slung over Owen's shoulders and he had started singing 'We're all going on a summer holiday.' Gwen felt like shaking her head in disbelief, but to keep up the drunk act she started laughing along with Owen. As they turned the corner, Owen took her hand and held her in a half hug. Gwen didn't resist, she knew she should, but she didn't. Jack could hold up the drunk act enough for the both of them, which was good, because Gwen's thoughts were elsewhere. She knew this wasn't their Owen, but it was still Owen. She could feel his heart beating against her arm and feel his soft breath against her ear. Being with Rhys was great, it was normal. Being with Owen was fantastic, it was ... amazing. She thought back to when they were camping. In the woods. She could almost feel his lips on hers, his breath on her cheeks. 'Where as you and me, we're not cosy at all. We'd be Amazing. And that scares the s**t out of you.
It did scare her. Life without Rhys? She couldn't remember what that felt like. But a life without Rhys, meant a life with Owen. Gwen closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them, Owen was smiling at her. "You alright?" He asked. "Yeah, just drunk that's all..." Gwen replied and Owen squeezed her hand a little. She was going to do it. As soon as they got back to their Cardiff, she was going to dump Rhys for Owen. They stopped walking and stood on the corner before they reached the Tardis. "Right! We need more booze!" Jack announced, he turned and raised an eyebrow at Gwen." Gwen we need more booze!" "Right! I'm getting more booze, wait here!" Gwen staggered around the corner, then broke into a run. Normally Owen would have found this very suspicious, but he was so drunk he didn't even notice. Gwen barged into the Tardis and ran through the console room and straight to the kitchen.
The Doctor felt ice hands grip his stomach as he hung up the phone. "What? what is it? are you alright?" Rose was worried and clutching his hand. He dragged her into his arms and kissed her on the forehead. "I will not leave you behind again." He kissed her head again. She smiled, "That suits me." He pushed her to arms length holding her upper arms tightly. "I mean it Rose.” He thinks, he thinks this isn't meant to happen, but I know it is. It must be. I can't be alone and theres no one else." And tugs here back to his chest. "Doctor?" She mutters somewhere near his ear, stroking his hair like that morning he had had a nightmare. They had had such a wonderful day, eating chips and exchaning storied with the other them. And then running off to find a bar, to play air hockey in the arcade on high street, and play the motorbike racing game. They had laughed so much and it had felt like old times. "What is it Doctor?" Asked Rose as she saw his expression plummet. Is was the first time he reminded her of her old Doctor, all that brooding melancholy. "The master is back... and... and, never break the third rule of time travel." She smiled, "I've learnt from bitter experience." "But you, you're meant to be in my universe, you'rw not meant to be here or anywhere else. I'm righting wrongs, not... he's wrong he has to be." "And ‘the Master’?" "Another Time Lord, only, I thought he was dead. I watched him die Rose, I held him in my arms and watched him die." He was trembling and she kissed, him first on the forehead, then on the tip of the nose. "Taking Owen from here shouldn't do too much damage." He was hiding his pain well now, and lapsed into thoughtful lets form a plan, no scheme mode, "As long as we leave the other Owen and..." "And?" "Sylar. “ He said bluntly. “It would answer all the questions, frame him for Owen's death." "Well we can sort that, Torchwood are good at the kind of thing." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Not that I was into that stuff, but Sylar ought to pay, it doesn't matter where he's rotting in jail." "What happened to my innocent and pure Rose?" He was stroking her hair, chin resting the crown of her hair. "I grew up." "I want her back." "You have her." He smiled, and suddenly he was off towards the tardis, her hand in his. Just like old times. It didn't take long to get to the Tardis, we swung open the door expecting to find lots of sullen faces. No one was there. He raced down the winding corridors, Rose hot on his heels, and slamming into his back as he ground to a halt. Sylar’s prison door was open. "Ah" He gaped at Rose for a moment, "But this... it can't" for once he was lost for words. Suddenly it was as if he turned inwards. "Somethings wrong." He said darkly. "No kidding." He grabbed her hand and started running towards the console room. "No somethings wrong with the Tardis." He entered the room and rushed straigt to the main console. "Oh no! What has he done to you. Oh my beautiful..." He stroked the console lovingly. "Oh I'll fix you, and don't you worry, he will pay." He turned to Rose, fury in his eye. "Dear, fetch the shot gun." he said in a mock Yorkshire accent.
Peter landed and he and Martha entered the Tardis to find the Doctor near tears over his ship. "First the bleedin' Titanic, now this? I'm so sorry, love." He petted the counsel some more. "One we get you fixed, we'll take you back to nice Cardiff for a long relaxin' refuel, alright? We'll keep Rose on board ... I know you like Rose." As the Doctor doted on his broken ship, Martha looked at Pete. "Well he's a bit occupied, innit?"
"What the hell did he do?" Peter said approaching the Doctor who was shushing him away, he had bits of wire between his teeth and something that looked like an odd shaped wrench. "What does it look like?" the Doctor said through a mouthful of wire and an ironic eyebrow..."Shot through the primary stabliser, can't engage the temporal fortifiers without the isomorphic dampening..." Peter was looking at him blankly. "He blew a big hole in the engine," he elaborated. "Can you fix it?" Peter asked desperately, he knew they could not stay there. The Doctor didn't even bother to answer. He just smiled. "But how did he know how to break..." The Doctor threw something in the air which Peter caught. It was a watch. Peter shrugged. Turned the thing over in his hand. "He's got some of an old friend of mine rattling around inside." The Doctor spat. Something fizzed. He jumped to his feet and gave the console a kick, it started to move then stopped. He grabbed another tool out of the box and threw open a floor panel to climb inside. "The question is..." The Doctor shouted up at them, "...how much!" Peter looked at Martha, he had no idea how she understood the Doctor sometimes. Neither do I, thought Martha. He smiled. She clearly didn't need to read his mind to know what he was thinking. Claude appeared dragging a plastic bin liner. Hearing voices, he turned, "Great I can get rid of this lot," he said, looking relieved, turned and began dragging the sack back out of the control room. "What you got in that?" the Doctor asked, pausing briefly to glance at him. "Everything but the kitchen sink," Claude sighed, " I would have had that an all but the curvy bit wouldn’t co-operate." "Sticky backed plastic?" the Doctor asked hopefully. Claude shook his head, searching through the contents of the bag, " nope" he rummaged a bit more, "...sink plug and electrical tape?" he asked hopefully. "That’ll do nicely," the Doctor held out his hand, waving it impatiently at Claude. Rose went over, took the items from Claude and deposited them in the Doctors hand, "Thanks " he mumbled absently and went back to work. "Um right," Claude paused in case he wanted anything else, when he said nothing else Claude grabbed the top of the bag and started dragging it away, "back in a bit," he said, and disappeared out of the door. “That man’s body is like silly putty!” The Doctor shouted up at the crowd. As if he’d just had a Eureka! Moment, he popped his grinning head out from the floor panel, he was covered in sweat and oil. “Great stuff silly putty…really good for clogging holes, there’s this whole bit in the basement that’s clogged with the stuff. polydimethylsiloxane!” “There’s a hole in the basement!” Martha yelped, “And you’ve been flying around…” “It’s fine.” Shouted the Doctor as he babbled on through pulling wires and string and….paperclips!…out of the hole he was sitting in. “Viscoelastic … Brilliant stuff…type of non-Newtonian flow, acts as a viscous liquid over a long time period but as an elastic solid over a short time period. Voila! Silly Putty!” He explained, “Aaaaanyway, great stuff silly putty, inorganic polymer created in a scientific accident,” he cocked a wry eyebrow at Claude, “holds it’s shape, you can make it do anything you want it to. Once an old friend of mine made a really rude…aaaanyway." Rose blushed. “Is he talking about Sylar?” Peter asked quietly, Martha nodded, then shrugged. The Doctor continued. “It’s all about what shape it holds. When it’s a square it’s a square. When it’s a ball it’s a ball. But it always reverts back. It has too.” “Because it’s Putty?” said Peter. “Exactly. It’s not clay. It’s putty. You can mix it and match it but eventually it becomes a big grey yukky mess. “He’s like Wikipedia.” Martha explained to Peter. “Gabriel Grey is Silly Putty. I’m going to put that on a T-Shirt.” He said absently then snapped back into his flow, “The Gabriel Grey shaped putty didn’t make himself Sylar, someone else did. And I grabbed him and tried to remind him what he was to start with. But I didn’t, not properly, because I can’t rewrite his DNA…only he can. Like Silly Putty with a brain! So now this brain has something else inside that wants a different shape…” Peter scratched his head. “A Time Lord shaped Silly Putty!” Shouted Older Rose. “Bingo!” “Well that’s good isn’t it?” Martha said. “You won’t be the last one.” “Good…maybe? Probably not though. The thing iiiiis…” He thought far a moment. “Rose...chuck me my coat.” She grabbed his coat from the side, he rummaged in his pocket for a moment and retrieved a blue ball. “Always keep a bit around for parties.” He said bouncing the Silly Putty in his hand. “See now it’s a ball – It’s Sylar shaped. Time Lord is more sortof…” He mused, “…a Glome. You can make the Sphere into a Glome but first you have to…” He slammed the Silly Putty between his fists. Everyone jumped. He held up the squashed mess… “Voila, Human shaped Putty.” “So you went through all that to tell us that Sylar’s human…” “Not yet…But trust me, if I know my friend…” He suddenly went serious, “…he soon will be, just for a bit. True, Pure, Powerless Human. We need to find that window.” He said gloomily."It will be when Sylar and My friend will be weakest and the basic human part of Gabriel will be strongest..." Then brightened. “I know JUST the place for this!” He said and disappeared into the depths below. “What’s a Glome?” Peter asked. Martha shrugged and smiled.
Claude leaned against the guard rail and watched the Doctor, "This friend of yours have a name?" he enquired. "The Master," the Doctor said, trying to sound neutral. Claude’s lip quirked, "Literally?" he enquired. The Doctor shrugged " Depends on your point of view." Claude sucked air through his teeth, "so... how much warning are we going to get for this window?" "Hard to say, hopefully enough." he answered, glancing at the controls in front of him. "What if it’s already happened?" he asked voicing what everyone was thinking. The Doctor looked straight at him, and quietly answered, "Let’s hope it hasn’t." Claude closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and sighed. Rubbing his chin, in a curious yet laconical way, he murmured, " There are days I wish I’d kept the day job."
The Doctor was whacking his computer screen liberally and trying to get it to show something other than just static. He raised his head to the heavens and sniffed. “I don’t think it happened yet.” He clarified darkly and went back to thumping his computer screen like it was a bust up old TV. “You sound certain, exactly how would you…?” Peter asked. “I’d just know.” The Doctor said enigmatically. The door of the Tardis was flung open, Gwen ran past in a blur. She grabbed the first bottle of alcohol she could see which happened to be a bottle of whiskey. She ran back out of the kitchen and, without stopping to acknowledge the open mouthed crowd, ploughed through the console room and into the street.
Gwen stopped running before hitting the corner and started stumbling. "Wey-Hey!!" She yelled and waved the bottle in front of Owen. They grinned at each other as Gwen took off the lid and handed it to Owen. He took a gulp and then another. Holding out the bottle he hiccuped. "You okay Owen?" Gwen glanced up at Jack and he raised his eyebrows.
Owen nodded but promtly stopped and clutched his head. "I am feeling- hic- just dandy Gwen Cooper!" He hiccuped then looked at the empty space beside Gwen. "Hey Gwen!" He staggered up to her put his arm around her. "You never told me you had a twin!" Gwen giggled as Owen held out his hand to thin air. "Why hello -hic- I'm Owen Harper! Doctor -hic- Owen -hic- Harper!" He wobbled then fell forward onto Gwen. She caught him and grinned at Jack. "Tardis?" He asked.
“You drink in the Tardis?” Rose asked as the door to the Tardis swung closed behind Gwen. “It was a Christmas present from you mother…never touched the stuff. Must have cost two quid from the corner shop – tastes like wallpaper paste.” He huffed. Rose raised her eyebrows. Two minutes later Gwen and Jack came in bearing a very alive looking Owen between them on their arms…a very alive looking one…though he was looking as green as the dead one. “Told you…” Doctor said,
[/b]“Wallpaper paste.” [/b] He thumped the console again, one final hardy thump, and the thing growled into life. [/blockquote] [/color]
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Post by whodovoodoo on Oct 4, 2007 10:49:54 GMT
Chapter 25 – Another one bites the dust [Chp 25 - Pt 1]
He didn't like chaos, but it had his advantages. He watched amused as this Universe's Torchwood crew turned up at the scene, that should keep them busy enough for the night. Five Hundred Brain Squashed corpses was certainly something they'd like to get their teeth into. Oh - he was after all so good at plans. As the fat SUV drove up to the gate he laughed to himself, such a silly thing Torchwood, he'd managed to stay away completely off their grid for years back in the day. The pride in him hurt, because, unlike the human body he was in Invisibility had never been something he'd liked - no, he'd paint himself neon and stand in the middle of the chaos just to get noticed if he didn't have other requirements. The Scooby Gang and the police strolled into the club, he could overwrite the invisibility genes now (he had already workout he needed to activate each of this humans ‘special’ abilities in order to overwrite them). It was painful, but not for him. The squirmy human inside put up a fight, tried to regenerate the genes as he destroyed them, he swigged another gulp of the bottle of whiskey and managed to return himself permanently visible. “And for my next trick.” He said to himself. The doors closed behind the Torchwood crew and the police. The pretty dark haired girl closed it after the various geeks and doctors at her disposal, a much bigger team than in the other Universe, and entirely missing their best asset. He guessed Jack was truly unique. He smiled, this next one was such a fun trick, he’d probably save this till last, find a way of harnessing the power in some form of weapon maybe? That would be really very smart. He raised his hand once the door was closed, he guessed this man hadn’t used this ability a lot, so such a large object may have been a bit draining. Luckily it turned out it wasn’t. The mass of people (alive, dead, and the remainder of Torchwood 3) trapped inside. He melted the building around them and drowned them all. He clapped his hands together when he was done. Stood up, dusted down his coat (at least this guy had some degree of style), jumped into the SUV, and headed toward their (now empty) Hub.
He turned up the radio. A Local Ham was playing the Electric Light Orchestra...good tune, ELO existed in every Universe. He tapped his foot to 'Mr Blue Sky' and veered wildly around the road, head still pounding, he polished off the cheep whiskey, rolled down the window and tossed the empty bottle at a passing pedestrian. "Ooo, that's going to sting." He laughed. He does hope they have a good supply of alcohol at the Torchwood Hub. "Mr Blue sky, please tell us why, you had to hide away for so long *sooo long* where did they go wrong." He drove with his knees, during an impromptu air guitar solo. "Hey you with the pretty face....welcome to the Gallifreyan Race!!! Big celebration, Mr Blue sky's up their waitin' And today...Is the day I've waited for..." A sharp handbreak turn and he's parked the SUV outside the Hub. He turned off the radio with a click - plunging the watery bank into silence. "Musical interlude over, back to work." He said with a smile and hopped out the driver's seat. He walked into the entranceway. A pretty man in a suit stood behind the counter. He was about to say something about them being 'closed' no doubt. He shot him in his tracks. A rather nasty weapon that turned peopled organs inside out. The Doctor had disabled it but while standing at the club bar he had managed to reactivate it. The man dropped dead. He went to the counter and turned the key in the console, there was a post-it note with the code written on it with a very childish cypher to disguise it. He decoded it automatically and plugged it in. A door opened in the wall. "Pathetic," He said under his breath. "The English and their secret passageways. They may as well write the word "DOOR" on it in big neon letters." Time to use and loose that other ability. It's not like he needs to mess with people's minds, he can do that well enough on his own. He made the woman see what she wanted to see. The dark haired girl he'd just drowned at the club. He stepped into the lift and descended. When the hub door rolled open he grinned brightly. The lights flickered on. You'd think they'd learn to keep these places manned by night. "Hold it Right there!" said a voice in the corner. He turned. "Toshiko..." The woman shook with nerves. "Tosh." He said. "It's me." "Gwen...?" She asked, but didn't lower the gun. "I just saw a guy shoot Ianto." She said. "Who are you?" "You know who I am. Why don't you put the gun down sweetheart?" "Where's Owen. I can't reach him? The whole team's gone quiet. " She asked. She seemed nearly on the brink of tears. "He's on his way in ...just put the gun down and we'll have a cup of tea." He held out his hand, friendly like. Toshiko walked toward him, shaking; she dropped the gun and held onto him in an embrace. He stroked her hair. "I don't know what we'd do if you hadn't stepped in after Rose...I...you know I love you right? Did you tell Owen like you said you would?" He raised his eyebrows. Though she of course didn't see that.
"I love you too..." he said, trying not to laugh. "We could always..." he nodded towards what he imagined was this woman's office. He could kill some time. Logistically it would be difficult. No, he interrupted his thoughts, He had plans. "...but I'd rather like it if you just kill yourself." He said darkly. That was another skill he didn't need to have. Toshiko stepped back, she looked distraught. She picked up the gun from the floor and promptly did as she was told. He walked over her. Overwrote the cells the human had created to cast illusions and make suggestions...really rather useless abilities once he was himself properly. And headed to the computer terminal. He turned the cameras onto the little people waiting outside in the cold bringing the cavalry as expected. Humans: so wonderfully predictable. He opened up the sound system, turned up the volume on the radio to eleven, and started dancing around the computer terminals. It didn't take much brain effort to tell it what he needed to. In fact, he could have sneezed on the thing and it would have done what it was told. Then he gripped hold of the railing, and closed his eyes. That headache was getting worse. He'd have to go on a hunt for something stronger than a painkiller. It seemed the more powers he neutralised the harder the human fought. Vodka! These people HAD to have Vodka, he thought. He doubted they were ever sober at work. He hopped up the stairs to the woman's office and began to ransack it. Retrieving a bottle of Russia's Finest from a locked cupboard, (and a few rather spectacular pieces of Alien kit while he's at it. A Rassilion Glove, Fourteen different flavours of Fawn Suppressent, some Demon's Tendrils and a Maxioson Spoon [hasn't seen one of them in years - nasty device relating to the replacement of misplaced eyeballs]) He glugged half the bottle down. He was getting a bit woozy now it seemed, but it gave him the chance to waste the more pointless powers. Sticking his hands through a wall and pulling them back through he activated the phasing genes and promptly wiped them out. Next, but my no means least he jumped up on the table and stepped off. He was floating about two and a half Human Feet fromthe floor. Flight was never useful, except for saving cats from trees, and he wasn't the kind of guy who saved cats from trees. Overwriting the genes he fell onto his feet. That headache was really pounding now. Not long and he'd be able to do a full rewrite. He polished off the rest of the bottle, noted the rest of the shiney faced gang had arrived...minus either Doctor. "Coward." He slurred. There was no way he was going anywhere until the Doctor arrived. He walked out of the woman's office nursing the bottle of Smirnoff and sat on the rising paving slab. Always have an exit strategy, he thought. A little key hung on some string nearby; he did love a good perception filter, though exactly where this one came from he had no idea. He slipped the key over his head. If he didn't move a muscle, they wouldn't see him until it was too late, he put his finger on the button and waited.
Gwen walked in grinning down at Owen. "We've got him, it didn't take to much booze. That scotch knocked him right out though- hasn't Tosh and Ianto got back yet?" Gwen was busy fussing over Owen and hadn't really looked around her. Finally she stood around and looked around in shock. "Bloody hell..." She said slowly "What happened here?" Peter smiled. "Sylar's Putty." He said and the Doctor laughed and repeated his explaination while liberally stroking his machine and wiping grease from his face with his sleeve. "So...Sylar's loose in Cardiff?" Gwen clarified. "And he's half Master?!" Jack said bluntly, he looked at the Doctor. "But I thought he..." The Doctor stopped stroking his console and glared at Jack. "Obviously not." He said and sniffed. "Not that it doesn't surprise me." He shrugged. "Resliant. That's how I'd describe him. Always pops back up in some form or another." Martha looked blank. The Doctor shrugged. "You'll find out soon enough." He explained. "So let's leave him here." Jack said bluntly. "Put her in reverse Doc." "She needs rest." The Doctor said lovingly. "Major surgery. And I'd quite like to pick myself up before we go." He searched his brain as if trying to remember where he might have gone. But shrugged, clearly not remembering. Gwen sighed. Great. Just great. They were stuck here, with Sylar on the loose and they couldn't even help because it wasn't their Torchwood. But what if they could still help.... Gwen's hands flew to her earpiece " Tosh? Ianto? Anyone there?" "Gwen?" Gwen grinned and gave the thumbs up to the group in the TARDIS. It seemed that now they were off that planet, their earpieces had signals again. "Tosh, Where the hell are you?" Gwen started pacing. "On the way to the hub, Sylar's on the loose, we're going to need weapons and the hub is the only place to get those." "But what about the other us?" If Tosh and Ianto walked in on themselves, who knew what would happen "Tosh where exactly are you?" She asked into her earpiece. "Down by the bay, we're walking towards the tourist entrance." If Gwen listened carefully, she could hear the lap of water in the background. "Listen Tosh, just stop. We'll meet you down there, but whatever you do wait for us!" There was silence down the other end of the line. "Tosh please just wait." She heard Tosh sigh. "Okay, but hurry up." Tosh said. Gwen grinned."Okay we'll be there in a moment. Bye." She hung up and turned to the group. "They're going down to the hub." Gwen stated. "What! Are they mad! Why can't they just wait for orders, like normal-" Jack began to rant. "Jack this isn't the time for moaning, we have to meet them down there. The hub is the only place with enough weapons for all of us." Gwen reasoned. "Okay, okay, We need to get down to the bay, is there any volunteers?" He asked. There was silence around the console room. Even the Doctor had temporarily looked up from his work. None of them wanted to leave their partners. "Okay..." Jack sighed. "Claude, you come with me, we'll find Oona, she'll be helpful and Gwen are you coming?" He turned to Gwen. "Jack, what about Owen? I can't just leave him." Gwen said guiltily. "Fine, Peter, Martha, you coming?" Jack slowly began to walk to the door. Jack, Claude, Peter and Martha piled out of the Tardis. "Right then, to the bay!" Jack gestured and they all set off in a run, bumping into Oona on the way. Claude grabbed her, turned her around and pointed her in the right direction.
They all skidded to a halt a few metres away from Tosh and Ianto. "Right, I think we need a plan. We could go in all guns blazing but I think that would make things worse. I've got a gun, Ianto's got a gun and so's Martha. We cover Claude, Tosh and, Peter, Oona you okay to fight?" Oona nodded. "Although I'm sure you lot could find something to fight with if they have to." Jack grinned. "We take the tourist route as quiet as possible... although, chances are... he probably already knows we're here..." Jack looked up at the CCTV camera, and the others followed his gaze. After a moment he looked down. "Let's go..." He took out his gun and slowly walked ahead. Jack waved them inside. Peter held tight to Martha as he went. She was very brave, but she shouldn't be there. He reached into his pocket and took out the watch. "I'm not going to kill him." He said, "Never know, he might turn out to be an alright guy when he's powerless...or when he's you know, reshaped or whatever the Doctor said." He still didn't quite understand. Martha raised an eyebrow wryly. He handed her the watch. "I have a feeling you know what to do with this." He said, and smiled. "And if you don't I reckon you're better at figuring it out than me." He said softly and kissed her. "Either way, you should take it back to the Doctor." He said. Martha nodded, kissed him sweetly and he let her run away. It was a good thing, Peter had a terrible, aching feeling that he wouldn’t come out of whatever they were walking into. It was lucky Ianto didn’t see his dead self behind the desk Peter knew his friends would need to all be on their toes. The door was open, they crept into the lift. Jack hit the down button. As the hub door rolled away from the entrance, the gang were wary about what they might see, there was a click, the lights span around balletically, and then their ears began to bleed. Not because of any strange gas or alien weapon, but purely because of the sheer volume! It started with a familiar deep base line which reverberated around the hub, the bottles shook on the tables, the water at the base of the obelisk vibrated…. *Dum. dum. dum. da dum dum, dum da dum.* *Dum. dum. dum. da dum dum, dum da dum.*
Then the vocal kicked in, and a strange feeling of dread fell into Peter’s stomach.
**Steve walks warily down the street, With the brim pulled way down low Ain't no sound but the sound of his feet, Machine guns ready to go! **
Jack looked at Peter, Ianto looked at the Tosh… Oona just looked confused. They walked forward warily, a step at a time…
**Are you ready, hey, are you ready for this? Are you hanging on the edge of your seat? Out of the doorway the bullets rip! To the sound of the beat… Yeahh-ehh
The place was empty, deserted…
*Dum. dum. dum. da dum dum, dum da dum.*
The door rolled closed behind them…
**Another one bites the dust**
Ianto ran to it. It locked behind them with a clunk.
*Dum. dum. dum. de dum dum, dum da dum.*
**Another one bites the dust**
There was a dead body on the floor. Jack walked over tentatively, their guard was high…he turned her over.
**And another one gone, and another one gone! Another one bites the dust. Hey! I'm gonna get you too. Another one bites the dust! **
Toshiko screamed louder than Peter thought he would ever hear someone scream as she saw her other self, half her own face blown away…Jack beckoned them forward…He ordered half of them down one side of the hub, Ianto went with Oona. Peter picked Toshiko from the floor, and followed behind Jack. “Don’t look” He said, but they just couldn’t hear each other.
**How do you think I'm going to get along, Without you, when you're gone? You took me for everything that I had, And kicked me out on my own.**
Jack looked up, there was a distinct noise in the distance, echoing up below them. While they had been distracted the computer program had opened every cell in the Torchwood hub, and unlike back home, this Torchwood had clearly been very busy…not only very, very busy…but very, very stupid.
Claude grabbed Toshiko to stop her from screaming again, wrapped his hand around her mouth and vanished them both from view.
**Are you happy, are you satisfied, How long can you stand the heat? Out of the doorway the bullets rip! To the sound of the beat. Look Out!**
The clunking noise in the distance…grew closer.
Toshiko’s eyes opened wide.
Ianto’s jaw hit the floor.
Jack raised his gun and prepared to be killed a thousand times over.
Peter didn’t know what he was looking at, but from everyone’s reactions…he could tell Sylar was the least of their worries.
*Dum. dum. dum. de dum dum, dum da dum.*
Their heavy clunking footsteps walked in time. Up from the basement.
**Another one bites the dust! Another one bites the dust! Another one bites the dust! Another one bites the dust!**
An Army of Cybermen stomped into the room.
**There are plenty of ways you can hurt a man, And bring him to the ground. You can beat him. You can cheat him. You can treat him bad and leave him When he's down, yeah!
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Post by whodovoodoo on Oct 4, 2007 11:11:54 GMT
[Chp 25 - pt 2]
Rose sat on the edge of the console as the Doctor worked. The room had gone silent now the others had left, and just the sound of him tinkering could be heard. "Why are we going after this Master person again?" She asked. He looked up sharply, "What? You just want to run away?" "No. I'm just... Syler is the guy with the magic powers right? But as he turns into this Master guy, he'll lose all that. And you wanted to leave Syler here anyway, so the universe didn't fall apart. It's just, he can't be more dangerous than Syler was, so why don't we just take Owen and get out of here. This worlds Torchwood will take care of him." He smiled, "Oh Rose, you are so very bright. But there is one thing you don't understand."He sighed, "The Master is brilliant. Fantastic. Nearly as brilliant as I am. He's a genious, and has over 12 lifetimes of experience under his belt. " He paused and then added as an after thought, "not sure how he managed that." "So?" "So. SO! So he's as brilliant as I am, and yet evil and really quite mad." He lept out of the gap in the grating and came nose to nose with her, holding her arms to keep her in place. "Imagine if I was evil, and mad, and no quips about already being quite mad thank you. But imagine all the things I can do, and imagine what if I was evil and used my powers to join the dark side." She shuddered in his grip and broke eye contact. "Now imagine if I had done thing my entire life, and had a whole eternity of practise od destroying worlds. Rose he may not have 'magic powers' but he can thwort Torchwood easily, and he can bring this world to its knees. I would run, I would, but you... youu would never run away, and that makes me strong enough to face this." "And yet here we are. Not running, but hiding." He let her go and turned his back, shoulders hunched against the despair. "Last time we faced each other he made me his slave for a year." He spins round suddenlt, facing her with a raw expression of darkness, "I really don't know what to do." She stepped forward and took his hand. "We'll think of something, and rush in and save the day. It's what we do." The Doctor was pacing back and forth, rubbing his head, ruffleing his hair. Every time he looked up there was Rose stationary watching him. Eventually he sat down with a sigh. "How did he get into Syler?" Rose said at last. "I don't know." Then he lept up grabbing her and lifting her and spinning her around and around. "Of course. The watch!" "The watch?" "Yeeeees the fob watch! When we found the Master he was inside of a Fob Watch. Open the Fob watch, the Master gets out. Brilliant really. Clever and well thought out. Ingeeeeeenious, in that evil twisted way..." "Doctor!" "Ah yes. Anyway, once thwarted, and I must say Martha did an excellent job, very clever that one, we were just talking in the tardis when we got caught up... Anyway yes, I kept the Fob watch and I suspect an aspect of the Master was still inside. If I could find a way to put him back in the watch, and out of Syler..." "We'd be left with a really scary all powerfull psychopath to defeat." "Ah... yes..." "I've got it!" He lept back to his feet after joing Rose on the control room chair, face in hands leaning against her for support. "Yes! Remember I said Syler was like silly putty. He's turning human. If we can suck the Master out at that point, then Syler will be human, and helpless and so easily lockupable." He made a face, wondering if that was even a word. Rose grinned at him, danced over to him and gave him the biggest hug ever. "I knew you would think of something!" "Oh but am I ok with leaving innocent Gabe to be locked up." He flopped back down with a sigh, " I don't think I am ok with it. It's not his fault." She cuddled up to him on the seat, "But you fixed him, and he still turned evil. Maybe that's just who he is." "I refuse to believe that." She stroked his hair, "Maybe we should deal with step one of the plan and then sort that out later." "Jump off tha bridge when we come to it. I like it." "No bridges, and no jumping," She slapped him playfully, "so its a plan then?" He grabbed her and tickled her mercylessly. "NO ROSE! Not a plan! Never a plan!"
He has to concentrate very hard not to tap his feet. In his next incarnation, he decided, he was going to be a dancer. The music drowned out the sound of the drums, and the argumentative human voice in his head.
His finger hovered on the button, he hadn't expected so many...he would have to leave quicker than planned, but he needed to be close to deliver the finishing touch. And didn't want to draw the attention of the Cybermen. Even if they couldn't kill his human body, they could certainly incapacitate him. He would wait until they began fixating on their human prey...
Oona had seen these monstrosities before. They were a creation of Law. Making everything perfectly the same. No chaos because they all looked and thought alike. She reached into her small bag, and found three gold coins left. "Is there anything down here that will powder these?" She held her hand out towards Ianto and Gwen. "Gold powder clogs their air filters. They have former human brains, that they need oxygin and nutrients." She had not seen these in this reality. But in one some hundred years from this time, on another world. She kept her fear from her face and eyes. These things were almost impossible to kill other than with gold powder. Decapitation and explosions worked. But they didn't have any explosives or a blade of the right composite metals... damn Sylar. She noticed recognition in Gwen and Iant's eyes. The absolute fear in Ianto's meant very personal expierience. But he was keeping his position, doing his job. Real bravery. "If we can get them to notice this Slave, then they might do some of our work. They do want to either kill or convert anything not them." Yes. Looser. He claimed the name Master so when people addressed him it gave him a position of power, made them feel helpless. She would not give him such an edge. He was a slave to his own greed and ambitions.
Peter had to act quickly. He didn't really want to risk going Nuclear in an underground bunker, but he suspected that the best way to get rid of these things was to do his Death's Head trick on them, overload them if he could. He dodged out of the way of their firepower, Jack was doing his best to draw most of their fire. Toshiko and Claude had vanished. He hoped they were finding a way to open the door. He suspected Toshiko was the only only who had the expertise to open it. Oona and the others looked like they had some form of plan. The best he could do was take out as many of them as he could. He had learnt a lot from taking on the memories of his other self. He summoned the power with in, small controlled explosions nesting in the palms of his hand. He composed himself, stood firm and began to throw the reactions at the oncoming foe. He took out ten the first go, they juddered and shook and fell to the floor. Like bowling, he thought. Except he was never good at bowling. And these things kept on coming.
Toshiko had never thought she could scream so loud but the horrific image of Claude had removed Toshiko using his invisibility and took her out of the way of the carnage. He held his hand over her mouth but whispered words of comfort into her ear to calm her. She shook from the terror but calmed down quickly. “Can I remove my hand?” Claude asked in a low voice at her ear. “Yes,” Tosh whispered then thanked him for his help. “We still invisible?” “Yep, “ Claude smiled and turned Tosh around and hugged her. “You going to help me to kick that ba***rds arse?” Tosh was angry and wanted to take revenge for Sylar killing the innocent as well as the Torchwood Three Team. “I could kill him with my bare hands if I knew it would work but we need firearms and I know where there may be a hidden stash that Sylar wouldn’t discover.” Tosh directed Claude with minimum of words towards where she hoped there was a secret exit that lead to a emergency bunker. Tosh could have cried with delight when she found the tile with the exact same marking as in her own Torchwood. Behind the tile was a control panel. She pressed her palm onto its surface then a keypad emerged for her to insert a security code. Tosh heard screams and the sound of rapid gunfire and knew the cells had been opened by Sylar and swore as she bundled herself and Claude through the doorway that had opened then slid firmly shut behind them. It was dark inside but Tosh knew the way and felt along the walls till she found another security door. She found the panel and inserted yet another security code to open it. She and Claude passed through two other doors like this. “What happens if you get the code wrong?” Claude asked leaning up against the cold tiles as Tosh keyed in another code. “Need you ask?” She replied seriously. “Suppose I could guess that the corridor fills up with something nasty?” “Yes and very deadly.” Tosh replied as the last door slid open. “Just as well the codes are the same for me in this universe or we would have been dead before we even got in past the first entrance.” The underground bunker had its own power supply and she grinned knowing that Sylar couldn’t reach them inside or turn their supply off. It had been built using alien tech and nothing like it existed on earth or was likely to do so for thousands of years into the future. Claude whistled impressed as the lights came up. “Ruddy Fantastic!” Claude smiled as he looked around him. Tosh called him to help as she opened a large double metal door that was very heavy. Inside Claude’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Now that’s what I call an armoury!” Claude laughed as he headed in to the armoury and picked up various weapons testing them then as his eyes caught sight of a bigger and better model moved along to pick up the next piece that had caught his eye. Tosh knew what she was looking for and packed a belt around her waist as she filled the compartments with small but very deadly devices. She looked up after a few moments to see Claude bouncing along as he moved from gun to gun. She couldn’t help but watch him and she laughed out loud. “What?” Claude asked as he turned around to stare back at her laughing at him. “You!” Tosh said and shook her head and moved towards him. “You are like a little boy in a sweet shop.” Claude grinned delighted at her reference. “No, this is better than sweets. This will mean we can send that bugger to hell.” “I’m hoping it will mean we can save our friends too.” Tosh said this as she moved over towards the bank of lights and monitors. The monitors showed various sections of the hub and Tosh had turned off the sound but he images alone brought tears to her eyes as she saw the carnage and she gasped as she recognised the silver images come into focus. “Oh No how the F**k did they get in here?” Tosh face paled further as she recognised the Cybermen and hoped Ianto was coping with this. “Crap that’s all we need!” Claude said as he recognised the new danger. “Do we have anything around here that could take them out?” Tosh thought and then nodded. “If we can find the leader we can disable him and if we could extract the code that controlled the emotion inhibitor… that would do the trick.” “Hang fire,” Claude said as he stared at an image on screen, “Think Peter is up to something.” Claude armed himself to the teeth but all the while kept his eye on Peter. Tosh found a few backpacks and filled them also with various guns ammo packs and other little devices she could hand out to her friends if they were still alive. “You ready to go?” Tosh asked Claude who was still watching Peter. “Wait a moment, sure Peter is going to do something and not too sure if it will be safe for us to make our move yet. Hang fire for now and …. Oh no Peter…don’t do that…”
The Master conceded that pushing the button was definitely now a good idea. It seemed the Perception Filter didn't work on the albino woman, and the fighter with the scarred face seemed to be more powerful. Never mind. All he needed to do was keep them busy enough to trap them away. He hit the button. The hole in the ceiling opened up and the pneumatic pistons starting raising the floor slab. He lay back in case any bullets came his way, didn't want to risk a shot to his head before he could properly regenerate. The Cybermen were swarming all over the fighter...which was good because he didn't want him flying up and stopping his dramatic curtain call. Jack was down and though he'd shortly get up he was out of the game. And he knew just the way to stop the others. Kicking off his plan as the slab rose towards the ceiling, he decided to waste the last but one (and favorite) ability at his disposal with a good show before overwriting the genes. Moving slowly, so as not to gain the attention of the metal men. He laid his mind on the obelisk nearby that stretched into the sky above, and it began to melt, like an ice-lolly left out in the sunshine. The metal dribbled down its surface quickly, as he reached the fresh air.
As the room seemed to melt around Peter, just as it had done in his dream, Peter threw his coat to Oona pushed Ianto up the stairs toward the office, which seemed to have been fortified against the fire power of the robot men. Clearly this Torchwood had been attacked before. Peter huddled in a small ball and let the men crowd in on him. He had worked out that ten at a time wasn’t quick enough, and every time Jack got up one of their shots caught him again and he fell down. Peter knew had to take out as many as possible in one go. Which meant one thing. As they crowded around him he built up as much energy as he could held his breath, and just hoped he could control it. Jack would survive, and he suspected the office was appropriately shielded. He crossed his fingers, preyed for the first time in a long time, closed his eyes and let go. It felt like a rage rushing through him, a fire and anger, but he held something back, just enough. His hands pulsated with the energy, his flesh burnt, everything felt aflame. He heard Martha’s words “We need you strong.” And held on to them as best he could. The metal men piled in on him, screaming in their electronic voices. The explosion ploughed through the men like a tidal wave, blowing them back away from him, many in pieces, the others fell on their knees, face first in the water and pooling metal of the sculpture, daming the melting metal around him. He had no idea how many he had taken out, nor how it had effected Sylar, nor what he would be when the explosion dissipated. Everything went dark.
The explosion knocked through the Cybermen like wildfire, and as the melting metal of the sculpture cooled around them, the mass of fallen bodies solidified into a heap. He considered for a moment melting the lot again and drowning the lot of them, trapping the ones that had travelled into the lower tunnels. But he didn’t have time to concentrate on that. And what was more had already overwritten the genes. Only the ability to heal left, and he had a feeling he might need that. The Master held on for dear life as a wave of fire and electricity travelled across the floor, quite a skill that he thought, it was a shame it was the first one he overwrote – too much instability. But it had coursed through the hydraulic lift that held the slab steady and he had stopped about seven and a half Human feet from the surface, just too far from him to reach, and then the piston, began to collapse. Wires crackled, beams and girders began to fall from the floor of the room into which the humans and their witch had run, they too held on for their lives. He tried to keep his feet as the slab on which he stood lurched from side to side. Dancing, he would definitely be a dancer.
Tosh saw a flicker of movement on another monitor and she swore furiously as she recognised Sylar as he entered the elevator to the surface. The image was strange and Tosh froze as she saw that the metal was melting. How had Sylar done that and how could she reverse it. Claude stared as Tosh dived around the room pressing buttons and tapping out commands on a very alien looking machine. “Come on, come on.” Tosh berated herself as she tried to remember what to do. “Can’t let him get away now…” Tosh jumped as she finally got the device she had been working on up and running. “What are you doing?” Asked Claude. “Stopping him!” Tosh said her face flushed and her eyes dilated. “Anything I can do?” “Yes shut up!” Tosh turned away from Claude and pressed a red button and held her breath. A whine was heard then a target screen appeared on the monitor the image of Sylar on the lift that had nearly reached the top Tosh’s hand shook as she held it over the mauve firing button and then counted backwards “Three, Two… “ Claude came to stand next to her and laid his hand over hers as together they counted down and on the “One” pressed the mauve button together and waited each holding their breath.
There was a great creaking and cracking, the Master had no choice. He jumped up with all his heart (still just the one). Below him the great lift mechanism crashed into itself like a toppling pine, the metal buckled and split and the concrete slab ploughed straight into the remaining solid base of the sculpture. He held onto the floor slabs above him, his fingers wet with the night’s rain, his feet dangling below him. Suddenly the ability to fly seemed to be a very good idea. must remember, he thought, not just for saving cats out of trees . Somewhere inside the human voice laughed, mocking him in his predicament. He tried to pull himself up, but he clearly was not as strong as he thought. His fingers started slipping. There was a vast drop below him, but this body could still heal itself, if he fell he would get up. Before they killed him? The fingers of his left hand slipped, he struggled to swing his arm up to the floor above. Suddenly he felt a hand gripped around his arm tightly. He looked up. A big-eared man with piercing blue eyes, and a stern smile held onto him tight.
“Doctor.” He acknowledged. “Master.” Returned the man as he pulled him up.
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