mercy, mercy, show me mercy; open to multiple

[i_jones]

This is it. Ianto has reached the end of his proverbial rope, the metaphorical straw that broke the camel's back. He can't take it anymore. He has had it up to here [not indicated, but probably a spot well above his head].

Aliens. He's going to go mad if he has to spend another day living with aliens inside of another alien. There was a nice period after Callie settled in where everything was a bit domestic and relatively quiet and nothing went unmanageably wrong. He wonders now if he wasn't just resolutely ignoring all the little things that were driving him so slowly up the wall that he hasn't noticed 'til now that he's at the ceiling. He can't even recover with a stiff drink because his house, which is actually an alien, won't let him near any alcohol, ostensibly for his health, which the house (the HOUSE WHICH IS AN ALIEN) claims he has been neglecting. So he's gone on a long walk (for his health) to the riftie Pub for a drink (for his mental health). It's refreshing and slightly bizarre to walk the relatively normal streets of Manhattan. The strangest people he walks past are a welcome change, just for being people. Even the unsettling man in the alley before the door to Wilmot's is some kind of a relief.

He orders a pint of cider at the bar and sits at one of the little tables, trying to soak in the warm and extremely human surroundings, and maybe work his stomach up for some definitely human food.

Comments

[wildmage_daine]

Daine doesn't visit Wilmot's often, in part because it's out of her way. There's also the matter of her only visiting before because she and Iman had a rescue to plot. She'd like to think ROMAC's been soundly defeated, but it still feels a bit chancy, revisiting such a well-known rifty hangout.

Well, she's in the neighborhood today, and it's probably safe enough. Plus, Wilmot's allows dogs. Daine's just picked up a new one, an unusually clever sort who reminds her - a little painfully - of Almondine. She can get herself a drink and see how the dog reacts to the environment. It'll be a nice little test for her, and she seems like the sort of dog who likes being tested.

Daine's eyes take a moment to adjust to the pub's dim interior, but once they have, it doesn't take her long to spot a familiar face. She's a little surprised to see Ianto outside the TARDIS, and not just because she imagines Manhattan doesn't have much to offer that the TARDIS couldn't provide. But being cooped up in the TARDIS is still being cooped up, she supposes... even if it is a very, very large coop.

"Hullo, Ianto," she says, silently advising the dog to hang back a little as they come up to his table. Does Ianto like dogs? He was calm enough seeing her in wolf shape that one time, but that wasn't the same. Besides, the dog ought to practice good manners, anyhow. "Out for some fresh air?" If the question sounds a bit wry, it's because the air quality is definitely better inside the ship.

[i_jones]

Ianto gives Daine a brief but wide smile, glancing at the dog with interest. He's more of a cat person, if only because his schedule didn't usually allow for the upkeep dogs require. He did have a dog once, but like his last cat, it too was... lost to the job, probably. So he's an other people's dogs person.

"God, am I," he sighs. He will happily breathe in all of that New York exhaust. "Would you like a drink? I wouldn't mind the company."

[wildmage_daine]

"Sure," Daine says with a smile, clambering up onto the chair opposite. "A cider would be nice. This is Ruckus," she adds, tilting her head towards the dog. "She was too much of a handful for the folk who were keeping her before." They'd put out an ad - Daine's come to realize those are good things to keep an eye out for, so she can pick up animals before they get booted out onto the street. "She was just bored, is all."

To the dog, she adds, "This is Ianto. He's nice. You can say hello, if you like."

Ruckus glances up at Daine, then moseys to Ianto's chair and rears up onto her hinders, forepaws braced against the spindle.

[i_jones]

"Hullo, Ruckus," he greets, leaning over to give Ruckus some enthusiastic scratches behind the ears, accentuating each question. "Are you being a good girl? Are you a big handful? Are you a very pretty girl? Yes, you are," he coos fondly. Can he have this dog, though? On second thought, a pet in the TARDIS is sure to end poorly. He leans up to signal to the bartender for another cider and continues petting Ruckus on the head. "You're not turning into one of those animal hoarders, are you?"

[wildmage_daine]

The dog wags her entire hindquarters in lieu of a tail and noses at Ianto's hand. I like him, she confides to Daine. He knows how to pet someone properly.

Daine accepts her cider with a quiet, "thanks," then wrinkles her nose at Ianto. "Of course not." It's true that she tends to have more animals in her little apartment than most folk would think sensible, but almost all of them are in and out as it pleases them. Only the two dogs (well, three for the moment) and cat are full-time residents. And it's not as if she doesn't clean up after them.

"I'll be finding her something useful to do," she says, taking a thoughtful sip of her cider. "She wants a proper job." With a wry smile, she adds, "Maybe I could teach her how to herd the Doctor. She could round him up for you when he's wandered off."

[i_jones]

Okay, but, being a clean hoarder doesn't make you any less of a hoarder. Ianto's seen the shows. It's serious problem here in America. He's ready for an intervention, he's got one in his back pocket, just in case.

"That's a big job. Reckon you'd need a pack." He ruffles Ruckus' fur. "I wouldn't mind a day off of that. I feel like a childminder. Keeping him away from small appliances and sugar. Not to mention Callie."

[wildmage_daine]

She just holds a lot of parties with non-human attendees, is all. She's not keeping them, they're guests.

"The TARDIS might already have a pack in there, somewhere," Daine points out. "All I'd have to do is have a chat with them." She tries to imagine the Long Lake Pack taking up Doctor herding. Honestly, she can't decide if she'd feel more sorry for the Doctor or the wolves.

For a moment, Daine just watches Ruckus list into Ianto's lap, a soft smile on her face. Then, she lifts her gaze back to Ianto. "So that explains why you're out and about." After a brief, considering pause, she adds, "Callie's fair sweet; I can't imagine minding her would be much trouble." The Doctor's a different story. He's such a grump this time around.

[peacefulexplorer]

The memories have been tiding back faster, going from a slight trickle to an incomprehensible rush. Even worse are the dreams, in which he has to parse which surreal images are memories and which can be credited to an overactive subconscious. Packing up the apartment hasn't helped. Taking brief walks to familiarize (or rather, re-familiarize) himself with the city's layout hasn't helped.

So Daniel finds himself at the bar at Wilmot's, chewing on the end of a pencil and frowning at a line of scribbles in his notebook.

• al'kesh (sic?)
  
• flooded underground structure
  
• dragon tattoo
  
• opened gate
  
• the Devil?

Something's off there. Maybe multiple somethings. Daniel sets down his pencil and leans back, shooting a furtive look at the other patrons. The chances of them being other rifties are purportedly high, and he doesn't stand to have a whole lot to lose at this point.

He scrapes his chair back and takes a hesitant step for the nearest patron.

"Hi, sorry," he says, trying for a smile and succeeding in little more than a small, nervous quirk of the corner of his mouth. "Weird question, I know, but - do I seem, uh, familiar to you?"

[i_jones]

Oh god, they always find him. Does he look particularly helpful or sympathetic? Is that it? Does he have a resting 'don't worry, I'm here to help' face? Maybe it's something to do with how he dresses. Maybe he's finally been granted some strange power and it's the power to look like he knows what he's doing. How dreadful. He sits up a little straighter as Daniel approaches, smiling an equally non-smile in return.

"I'm sorry, no," he says, with just the right amount of empathy and reassuring. "Do you remember your name? I'm sure we can find someone who knows you."

[peacefulexplorer]

Oh, good, so probably a rifty. Probably. That's a good sign - that would make him more likely to be accustomed to things like this.

"I know that," he amends hastily. "Just - having trouble piecing back the last few, um - just my general life back together. I only recently got back from, um. It's complicated, actually."

He blows out a sigh and shuffles back a step. "Look - sorry, I just - I just thought I'd ask. I'm still trying to figure out who I knew."