Jack Harkness' room :: Mid-2005 timewarp AU :: Milliways

[othercaptjack]

Jack's room is mostly basic, it has to be said.

In fairness, he hasn't had much chance to make it his own - it has only been (ahem) somewhere private to go that is not the TARDIS for when he visits Milliways.

And since he is not Bound, for most of the time it stays empty, storing just some clean clothes and basic necessities (well - basic if you're Jack) and not much else.


There is this to be said for it, too:

The door may be locked, but it is not booby-trapped.

Lucky for some.

Comments

[oneman_onevote]

(That, or spilled across the floor!

Um.

Not by Havelock. Probably.)


"I try never to do that as a rule," he says, approaching the door cautiously to check the strength of the wood, and the weight of the frame against it once more.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

"I find rules dreadfully tiresome," Puck breezes.

He traipses along behind him with the bottle raised slightly, just in case the door should be brought down by the ravening undead. At the moment, all that seems to be imminent are groans and some impressive thumps.

[oneman_onevote]

"Whereas I study them with the greatest care," Havelock says, in much the same tone. "The better to know when to break them and exactly how far."

Disobeying the Guild is a very fine line, but constantly necessary.

There is a borderline obscene scraping coming from the other side, nails clawing at wood with no concern for them being torn away from bony fingertips. The assassin tightens the cloth wrapped around his fingers almost unconsciously, and eyes the door.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck winces at the screech, pleasantly.

"Do you?"

A smile flickers across his face.

"I see you are a singular sort, after all."

A moment of almost quizzical silence follows the scraping. Then, the noise redoubles, the broken-nails-on-chalkboard sounds interspersed with the same thumps against the door as before.

[oneman_onevote]

"Just careful."

So saying, he lifts the sword once more and paces a step to the side, still watching the door. It is rattling faintly under the onslaught from the other side, but seems to be holding for the moment.

But it won't forever, if that doesn't stop.

(His expression has gone vaguely calculating.)

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

"'Tis my understanding," Puck says, with a mirroring step to the opposite side (rather as if the door were some faintly shuddering creature they were stalking), "that care itself is exceeding singular."

Holding the bottle aloft, he glances about the room once more.

"Some other place," he notes, "may have a window."

[oneman_onevote]

"Yes," Havelock agrees, and goes to the wardrobe, still eyeing the door.

"Although reaching it may present a slight problem."

He opens the door to begin a search, although what he expects to find is unclear.

(Narnia, perhaps.)

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Without turning, Puck says curiously, "Is there aught of interest?"

Zombies may be breaking down the door, but he wants to know what's in the box!

[oneman_onevote]

"Hmm," Havelock responds; a vague, distracted hum.

It seems the resident of this room is quite the military man, although of a type Havelock has never before encountered.

He also has a collection of esoteric sexual devices in a case at the bottom quite unrivalled even by Rosie Palm herself. Havelock is puzzled, but mildly impressed at how complete a set it is.

He tactfully leaves those be, once he determines there is nothing particularly helpful contained within, and switches to searching the pockets of each jacket hanging above.

He feels cold metal, in a shape unfamiliar to him, and draws it out slowly.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Thump. Thump. Thump. Groan.

Only that time, the groan was not the undead creatures, but the door itself. Puck glances abruptly over to Havelock.

"... What is that?" he says. It looks as if somebody got hold of a musket and sawed off the front end.

[oneman_onevote]

"Some kind of weapon."

He wraps his fingers around the handle - similar to a horsebow, but with no feeling of drawn-up tension to indicate what pwer it might have.

Almost grudging, "I do not know the type."

It is too easy to hold, too light- almost like a toy. He runs fingertips lightly over the top, catching a button as he does. There is a very faint hum from the thing, and he pauses to turn the barrel consciously away from the faerie and to one of the walls.

"Do you?"

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck laughs, though it's more of a snort.

"What cause have I?"

Faeries, like the proverbial lilies of the field, tend not to toil, and spin only when they expect high returns in the form of children.

He shrugs. "They shall have the door in a moment's time. If you can make it go, perhaps you ought to make a test of it."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock shrugs, sights at a blank expanse of wall, and pulls the trigger.

Beyond, there appears to be another, larger room, devoid of undead presence.

"...Well."

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck blinks, copiously.

And edges towards the new room.

And picks up a piece of glass from the floor, which he pitches through the apparent opening. It sails harmlessly through and skitters across the floor.





"Aha."

He brightens.

"Well! Shall you go?"

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock reaches out, and delicately touches the new edge in the middle of the wall. It is warm, but not nearly as warm as it should be, apparently burned away in a moment by a pulse of light.



"It seems the wisest option," he says, holding the device slightly gingerly to one side.

He has no desire to see what it does to a living creature. Apart from a few moments entirely scientific consideration, which he has now sternly put from his mind.

"Perhaps we can pull the chest in front of it to mask the hole from this side.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

"... Oh, yes," Puck replies, realizing with a downward quirk of his mouth that the one downside to their shiny new friend is that wherever they go, they shall likely leave a rather accessible trail of gigantic holes.

"Do let's, then," he says, and darts through.

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock pushes the chest of drawers up beside the hole, then glances around the room once more and follows the creature through (ducking a little, since it has not quite his height).

From the other side, he tugs on the chest again, to block off the hole as best he can.

"Is this room any more use?" he asks, as he works.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck has mysteriously come into possession of not only his own broken bottle, but the undisturbed one of probably-whiskey, which he sets down cautiously on the ... somewhat gaudy bed, which appears to be the only furniture in the place.

He goes for the doorknob, puts his hand to it, then bends in to listen.

"Of naught that I can see," he says absently.

"But 'tis all silence in the next one."

[oneman_onevote]

"Good," says Havelock absently, stepping away from the now-blocked hole, and looking around critically for more furniture to pile in front of it.

...Bed it is, then.

But then perhaps they should move on, locking the door behind them for an extra barrier.

He joins Puck at the door, kneeling down to look through the keyhole.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

The view through the keyhole is ... exceedingly sleek.

And, perhaps nearer to the point, empty.

Puck turns the knob and pushes through.

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock stalks through after him, wary and reserved.

But he needn't be so cautious at this time - the rooms appear pristine in their emptiness.

Also: decorative!

stealing from emmy's descriptors with abandon

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

It is curious that it is so silent in here.

(The idea of soundproofing is several hundred years ahead of Puck.)

He sniffs the air curiously, then steps forward into the room. Aside from a few broken glasses, which he tiptoes round, the place appears in perfect order. In the far right corner, there is a small but elegant bar counter; the selection behind it seems to render Puck's own bottle somewhat superfluous. There are more discreet doors leading out from this room, all of which look a great deal like the one Puck and Havelock have just entered through.

Strangely enough, despite the fact that most other suites are simply rectangular, this one seems to have ended up with more than its fair share of dark corners.

Perhaps most importantly, one of those discreet doors leads out to a balcony.

You THIEF.

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock smiles at the sight - or at least, the blank set of his features unbends in a vaguely positive manner - and he makes for it after a swift, sweeping assessment of the rest of the room.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck is starting to determine a trend here where the dreadful mortal goes places and he just ... follows him.

To be fair, Puck does not tend to blaze his own trails. And if the dreadful mortal goes first, he's more likely to provide human shielding.


The balcony offers a view of the lawn, lake, distant mountains, and the start of the woods, all of which are significantly corpsier than they once were. Nothing much is moving, because in the absence of prey, the dead creatures seem to sort of shamble about aimlessly.

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock appears to be completely fine with this state of affairs.


Either that, or he thinks nothing of it - instead, he leans thoughtfully over the railing, to survey the grounds below. Although the creatures appear docile for the moment, there are still a lot of them. Too many to go down without a clear aim. He turns around after a moment, leaning back of his elbows to look up at the wall above, trying to see how tricky the way up would be to another window, or the roof.