TW Picspam #5 - Small Worlds
I have to face the fact that NOTHING will be as funny as Cyberwoman.
Someday, this dotty old woman will be ME.
New search game: Where's Oberon?
Fairies don't like flash photos.
Awww, fairy lights at the Hub!
The Hub by night is rather inviting.
Are you watching this, Dr. Freud?
I Love You, Alice Troughton.
Jack dreams in sepia and red.
FREAKOUT!
Nothing's on late night CCTV.
The rose petal got on Jack's desk...how?
Busted, Ianto!
Ianto busts right back.
"Sorry 'bout that whole shooting your cyber girlfriend thing, Ianto. I promise I won't bring it up again."
Meet Jasmine the Creepy.
She is stalked by a guy who has no clue how sorry he's going to be.
The fairies totally pwned him.
"No, Gwen, it's not porno. What kind of guy do you think I am?"
Estelle has gone to some trouble for this presentation.
Look, a slideshow! I bet she has LOTS of pictures to display.
Tactile alert!
Scully Gwen is a bit of a wet blanket.
That's IT? Five slides? And you rented an entire hall...why?
Estelle invites Jack to her place to see her etchings look at the photos she didn't bring to the World's Shortest Slideshow.
Gives the old song "Everything's Coming Up Roses" a whole new spin.
Probably the first time this jerk has touched a woman his own age. Ewww.
Jasmine's stepdad has such a charming personality. He makes Owen look like Cary Grant.
Hello, Moses!
Estelle has Captain Jack's photo on the mantel. Now, was this BEFORE the Doctor, or AFTER the doctor...?
"It's not me - just an incredible simulation."
Hello, young lovers.
Estelle doesn't think it odd that "her" Jack, who'd be in his early nineties, would have a son in his mid-thirties.
Fairies are serious business.
I'm just saying that if someone made my back yard look like this, I wouldn't object.
Roy, you SUCK. You make Owen look like Cary Grant AND James Stewart.
The fairies like Jasmine so much that they are willing to be her personal piñatas.
Everyone say hi to Ianto. We won't see him for a while. He comments on 'shrooms and departs.
Awww, Gwen was a geek in high school.
The conference room decor is not exactly conducive to seeing anything clearly. Also, there seems to be quite a bit of booze lying around.
Tosh is looking into the use of alien cleavage.
"Thank heaven for little girls."
Mulder Jack reminds Gwen that this isn't about science.
Too bad that Torchwood doesn't have an actual SCIENTIST to do this botany stuff.
Too bad that Torchwood doesn't have an actual DOCTOR to do this autopsy stuff.
Gloves. Seriously.
"Cops have no sense of household hygiene."
Estelle begins to see Jack's point of view. Hope she enjoys it for the next five minutes she'll be alive.
There's only so much exposition a girl can take.
See above.
Who let the cat out? Meow, meow, meow meow, meow.
Tosh's Accuweather doohickey tracks a storm over Estelle's house.
"She's dead, Jim Jack."
Poor Jack.
Love those perfectly placed glycerine drops.
Gwen uses Jack's vulnerability in his time of grief to make him admit to something he didn't want her to know in the first place.
Jack needs a drink. And a quieter sidekick.
Well, okay, she listens compassionately and has lovely cleavage.
A little alcohol to dull the pain and make Jack tell Gwen even MORE confusing stuff.
Like he was commanding people prior to World War One. ::head explodes::
Sepia is the new color.
Jack was responsible for the men who died...who had just killed a little girl...::head explodes more for good measure::
Gwen and Rhys' flat is ransacked. Unfortunately, no one ripped up their truly heinous curtains.
Jasmine would rather play in the garden than hang with Roy. This doesn't make her creepy, it makes her smart.
Jack goes to visit Gwen and checks out the photos of his competition. He doesn't look so much worried as perplexed.
Jasmine enjoys a good windy spell.
"How the hell do people always know we're on a crime scene?"
Roy's barbecue is nothing compared to the one Torchwood hosted last week.
Okay, you're a fairy and you have wings. You see a fence. You don't fly over it, you barrel right through it.
"I eat your face, fool!"
"I just wanna sit in your lap!"
Didn't your mum ever tell you to clip your nose hairs every day in case you get murdered by a fairy?
Proximity alert!
"Snap out of it, Jasmine!"
Jack is so sorry that he's ruching up Mum's blouse.
They're letting you drive, Jack, but I bet someone short-sheets you.
Full of weeping. Awww, Jasmine.
***
Next up: COUNTRYCIDE!
Someday, this dotty old woman will be ME.
New search game: Where's Oberon?
Fairies don't like flash photos.
Awww, fairy lights at the Hub!
The Hub by night is rather inviting.
Are you watching this, Dr. Freud?
I Love You, Alice Troughton.
Jack dreams in sepia and red.
FREAKOUT!
Nothing's on late night CCTV.
The rose petal got on Jack's desk...how?
Busted, Ianto!
Ianto busts right back.
"Sorry 'bout that whole shooting your cyber girlfriend thing, Ianto. I promise I won't bring it up again."
Meet Jasmine the Creepy.
She is stalked by a guy who has no clue how sorry he's going to be.
The fairies totally pwned him.
"No, Gwen, it's not porno. What kind of guy do you think I am?"
Estelle has gone to some trouble for this presentation.
Look, a slideshow! I bet she has LOTS of pictures to display.
Tactile alert!
Scully Gwen is a bit of a wet blanket.
That's IT? Five slides? And you rented an entire hall...why?
Estelle invites Jack to her place to see her etchings look at the photos she didn't bring to the World's Shortest Slideshow.
Gives the old song "Everything's Coming Up Roses" a whole new spin.
Probably the first time this jerk has touched a woman his own age. Ewww.
Jasmine's stepdad has such a charming personality. He makes Owen look like Cary Grant.
Hello, Moses!
Estelle has Captain Jack's photo on the mantel. Now, was this BEFORE the Doctor, or AFTER the doctor...?
"It's not me - just an incredible simulation."
Hello, young lovers.
Estelle doesn't think it odd that "her" Jack, who'd be in his early nineties, would have a son in his mid-thirties.
Fairies are serious business.
I'm just saying that if someone made my back yard look like this, I wouldn't object.
Roy, you SUCK. You make Owen look like Cary Grant AND James Stewart.
The fairies like Jasmine so much that they are willing to be her personal piñatas.
Everyone say hi to Ianto. We won't see him for a while. He comments on 'shrooms and departs.
Awww, Gwen was a geek in high school.
The conference room decor is not exactly conducive to seeing anything clearly. Also, there seems to be quite a bit of booze lying around.
Tosh is looking into the use of alien cleavage.
"Thank heaven for little girls."
Mulder Jack reminds Gwen that this isn't about science.
Too bad that Torchwood doesn't have an actual SCIENTIST to do this botany stuff.
Too bad that Torchwood doesn't have an actual DOCTOR to do this autopsy stuff.
Gloves. Seriously.
"Cops have no sense of household hygiene."
Estelle begins to see Jack's point of view. Hope she enjoys it for the next five minutes she'll be alive.
There's only so much exposition a girl can take.
See above.
Who let the cat out? Meow, meow, meow meow, meow.
Tosh's Accuweather doohickey tracks a storm over Estelle's house.
"She's dead, Jim Jack."
Poor Jack.
Love those perfectly placed glycerine drops.
Gwen uses Jack's vulnerability in his time of grief to make him admit to something he didn't want her to know in the first place.
Jack needs a drink. And a quieter sidekick.
Well, okay, she listens compassionately and has lovely cleavage.
A little alcohol to dull the pain and make Jack tell Gwen even MORE confusing stuff.
Like he was commanding people prior to World War One. ::head explodes::
Sepia is the new color.
Jack was responsible for the men who died...who had just killed a little girl...::head explodes more for good measure::
Gwen and Rhys' flat is ransacked. Unfortunately, no one ripped up their truly heinous curtains.
Jasmine would rather play in the garden than hang with Roy. This doesn't make her creepy, it makes her smart.
Jack goes to visit Gwen and checks out the photos of his competition. He doesn't look so much worried as perplexed.
Jasmine enjoys a good windy spell.
"How the hell do people always know we're on a crime scene?"
Roy's barbecue is nothing compared to the one Torchwood hosted last week.
Okay, you're a fairy and you have wings. You see a fence. You don't fly over it, you barrel right through it.
"I eat your face, fool!"
"I just wanna sit in your lap!"
Didn't your mum ever tell you to clip your nose hairs every day in case you get murdered by a fairy?
Proximity alert!
"Snap out of it, Jasmine!"
Jack is so sorry that he's ruching up Mum's blouse.
They're letting you drive, Jack, but I bet someone short-sheets you.
Full of weeping. Awww, Jasmine.
***
Next up: COUNTRYCIDE!