words falter as he tries to make sense of his current state. shifting in the tangled lights, jack sighs as he proceeds to work through the knots that have him bound. he’s good at decorating, don’t get him wrong. lights, however, are always an issue.
Taking an assignment in Cardiff seemed like a breeze. Why wouldn’t it? It was Cardiff. As far as tight spots went, this certainly didn’t seem like one. That’s why she’s finds herself more than a little put out now that she’s backed into a corner. By…what the fuck ever that thing is.
It isn’t like she hasn’t seen aliens before. Given the organization she works for? Anna has been privy to plenty. This thing, however, appears to want to eat her. Or maybe it’s just really angry for no good reason. Using her abilities seems a little.. fruitless… with the hungry thing bearing down on her, so she doesn’t even try. She does wing the lid of a bin at it, but that only seems to piss it off more.
This is how I die.
In fucking Cardiff of all places.
It’s only when a figure appears at the opposite end of the alley that Anna realizes she just might have to take a more active approach. “You need to get out of here,” her voice coming more evenly than she expects it to, “Don’t run. Just back up and get out of here. Go before it decides you look tastier than me.”
many nights have proved to be slow; it would be a lie to say the captain doesn’t get bored, waiting for any sort of rift activity to spike. with the rift being relatively silent, almost unusually silent, he decides to do a street sweep, leaving the rest of the team to watch and, hopefully, figure out why things are so normal.
cardiff was simple. when he isn’t working, he blends in. people don’t ask questions, people don’t stare – it’s one of the easier lives he’s lived.
the sound of what he believes to be commotion causes him to slow, putting the rover in reverse and stopping, trying to figure out what he’s heard.
steps are quick, but near silent as he proceeds down the alley; it’s been a good minute since he caught a weevil. hand reaches into his pocket, finger on the trigger of the spray that will sedate the creature, but he finds himself distracted by a voice - a feminine voice. huh. weird.
an explanation would follow him drawing the weevil’s attention to himself. (he’s caught enough of these to take one down with his eyes closed. he just might, one of these days.) once he’s sure the weevil is down for the count, the captain smooths the wrinkles out of his shirt.
“ what was that? thought you said something about running. ”
