Entry 001 [text]
[Note: As of July 17, Ianto is from June 2008 rather than August 2009. He won't have mentioned his birthday here or anything involving Jack or needing replacements. The details of his job are the same, however, as is the general tone.]
Last known date 19/8/2009
I'm 26 now. 1,461 days to go before I become a statistical anomaly by remaining both employed by Torchwood and within the mortal realm. It sounds like a lot, put like that.
If I recall the pamphlet on temporal and spatial displacement correctly, I am still employed. Might even qualify for a bonus. Blinding.
I'm getting ahead of myself.
The Rift stayed quiet, so I spent most of the day in the archives, filing the remnants of Tuesday's escapade in Butetown. It's done now save one item, oblong, thirteen inches by eight. Metal, but we can't get a read on the alloy. Jack thinks it may be medical. Neither of us mentioned Owen or Tosh, but if they were still--
We need replacements, anyway.
Jack and I went out for dinner. The tables had nice heavy linens, but proved disconcertingly wobbly. Good job I had the sense to put the candles out. The evening progressed as expected from there. I told him we needed to turn his mattress, but he didn't take me seriously. It's not getting even wear.
I managed to get to sleep, finally, then woke up in what is most likely an alien world.
Not one of my best birthdays.
Last known date 19/8/2009
I'm 26 now. 1,461 days to go before I become a statistical anomaly by remaining both employed by Torchwood and within the mortal realm. It sounds like a lot, put like that.
If I recall the pamphlet on temporal and spatial displacement correctly, I am still employed. Might even qualify for a bonus. Blinding.
I'm getting ahead of myself.
The Rift stayed quiet, so I spent most of the day in the archives, filing the remnants of Tuesday's escapade in Butetown. It's done now save one item, oblong, thirteen inches by eight. Metal, but we can't get a read on the alloy. Jack thinks it may be medical. Neither of us mentioned Owen or Tosh, but if they were still--
We need replacements, anyway.
Jack and I went out for dinner. The tables had nice heavy linens, but proved disconcertingly wobbly. Good job I had the sense to put the candles out. The evening progressed as expected from there. I told him we needed to turn his mattress, but he didn't take me seriously. It's not getting even wear.
I managed to get to sleep, finally, then woke up in what is most likely an alien world.
Not one of my best birthdays.