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eldabeTitle: From the 82nd Summer of Love
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: G
Characters: Ianto, Owen
Prompt: Written forredisourcolor Challenge #26. I used this image, the words "broken," "shuffle," and "kaleidoscope" as well as the phrase "After enough time passed, they got used to it."
Summary: Turns out alien raves of the future will be entertainment for the rich, eccentric and historically inaccurate. And someone, somewhen, has misplaced an Acid House.
Note: I have no idea, guys. Really.
Thanks go tohab318princess for invaluable help with British word choice!
Ianto and Owen were walking cautiously down an idyllic path towards the large house. The path, the house, the very grounds had appeared spontaneously last week. Without replacing any of the neighboring land. And when Tosh scanned the area by satellite, she couldn't see any trace of it. The whole thing seemed to only exist below 500 meters. The roads curved around it automatically and it had actually been fairly hard to find, for two brand-new acres of land.
"I feel like I'm on the Duffer's Island." Owen muttered as they moved together.
"Is that an appreciation of a classic children's tale I hear, Owen?"
"Never. The Lion was clearly a pedophile. Kidnapping four children for a decade of holiday? Not to mention the 'white man's burden' shite of Brits set to rule over all the woodland creatures."
Ianto's eyes flicked sideways, while his aim remained steady and forward. "I am never discussing literature with you again."
"Fine by me!"
Privately, Ianto had been thinking of Manderly, but he was hardly going to share that with Owen.
The thing had first come to Torchwood's attention five days ago, a combination of Tosh recording unusual distant rift action and a flood of confused police reports. It had taken them this long just to spare half the team from Cardiff to canvass the area and evaluate the situation. But when Owen, Tosh and Ianto questioned people living in the surrounding houses, many of whom had filed those same police reports, the locals seemed surprised. After enough time passed, they got used to it. Some even claimed the house and grounds had always been there.
Tosh was in the car, monitoring both of them from the gate. Gwen and Jack were both back in Cardiff. Ianto and Owen were on the direct path in front of the house, as there seemed no other way to approach. As soon as they tried to drive aroudn tot he sides, they ended up back at the front gate. The physical impossibility was driving Tosh mad. So the two of them had to storm the gates instead.
Or rather, storm the imposing wooden doors. They stood there looking at the doors, then each other. Ianto rolled his eyes and rang the doorbell.
"Broken." he said, and frowned. He adjusted his grip on his gun and knocked.
They both immediately fell back, raising their guns defensively. There was not response.
Ianto took quick breaths, feeling the adrenaline spike of being in the field.
"My turn," Owen muttered, and shuffled forward, keeping his tense two-handed grip on his gun. Shifting his weight, Owen kicked the door.
Ianto expected the doors to remain close, to hear a deep echo from Owen's kick. Instead, they swung easily inward, revealing a shifting kaleidoscope of bright, psychedelic colors. Thumping, painfully loud music spilled out as well, along with the totally incongruous smells of lilacs and sugar.
"Flying fuck!" Owen swore, jumping back.
Ianto screwed up his eyes to try and see inside past the blazing lights.
"Is that," he leaned forward, "a glitter ball?"
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: G
Characters: Ianto, Owen
Prompt: Written for
redisourcolor Challenge #26. I used this image, the words "broken," "shuffle," and "kaleidoscope" as well as the phrase "After enough time passed, they got used to it." Summary: Turns out alien raves of the future will be entertainment for the rich, eccentric and historically inaccurate. And someone, somewhen, has misplaced an Acid House.
Note: I have no idea, guys. Really.
Thanks go to
hab318princess for invaluable help with British word choice!Ianto and Owen were walking cautiously down an idyllic path towards the large house. The path, the house, the very grounds had appeared spontaneously last week. Without replacing any of the neighboring land. And when Tosh scanned the area by satellite, she couldn't see any trace of it. The whole thing seemed to only exist below 500 meters. The roads curved around it automatically and it had actually been fairly hard to find, for two brand-new acres of land.
"I feel like I'm on the Duffer's Island." Owen muttered as they moved together.
"Is that an appreciation of a classic children's tale I hear, Owen?"
"Never. The Lion was clearly a pedophile. Kidnapping four children for a decade of holiday? Not to mention the 'white man's burden' shite of Brits set to rule over all the woodland creatures."
Ianto's eyes flicked sideways, while his aim remained steady and forward. "I am never discussing literature with you again."
"Fine by me!"
Privately, Ianto had been thinking of Manderly, but he was hardly going to share that with Owen.
The thing had first come to Torchwood's attention five days ago, a combination of Tosh recording unusual distant rift action and a flood of confused police reports. It had taken them this long just to spare half the team from Cardiff to canvass the area and evaluate the situation. But when Owen, Tosh and Ianto questioned people living in the surrounding houses, many of whom had filed those same police reports, the locals seemed surprised. After enough time passed, they got used to it. Some even claimed the house and grounds had always been there.
Tosh was in the car, monitoring both of them from the gate. Gwen and Jack were both back in Cardiff. Ianto and Owen were on the direct path in front of the house, as there seemed no other way to approach. As soon as they tried to drive aroudn tot he sides, they ended up back at the front gate. The physical impossibility was driving Tosh mad. So the two of them had to storm the gates instead.
Or rather, storm the imposing wooden doors. They stood there looking at the doors, then each other. Ianto rolled his eyes and rang the doorbell.
"Broken." he said, and frowned. He adjusted his grip on his gun and knocked.
They both immediately fell back, raising their guns defensively. There was not response.
Ianto took quick breaths, feeling the adrenaline spike of being in the field.
"My turn," Owen muttered, and shuffled forward, keeping his tense two-handed grip on his gun. Shifting his weight, Owen kicked the door.
Ianto expected the doors to remain close, to hear a deep echo from Owen's kick. Instead, they swung easily inward, revealing a shifting kaleidoscope of bright, psychedelic colors. Thumping, painfully loud music spilled out as well, along with the totally incongruous smells of lilacs and sugar.
"Flying fuck!" Owen swore, jumping back.
Ianto screwed up his eyes to try and see inside past the blazing lights.
"Is that," he leaned forward, "a glitter ball?"
