themanclion: (journal - frowny)
I'd always heard the Rift had a way of making people vanish, but this is the first time I've experienced anything firsthand -- either way, I come back and there's little girls getting killed.

So it happens I need to know a few things, like if there's been any progress on how hostile the local coppers are, anyone safe to talk to... Any contacts you can give me, I could use. We've got someone over here with a cunning plan, but I'm not about to sit around and wait, it seems like sitting around and waiting's what's got this city a hop skip and a jump from completely buggered right about now.

I don't know this city as well as I should, and, if you're agreeable, I'd like some help in setting that right.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
Right, I leave the tower to find a place with a decent curry and end up nowhere at all for two months, only to come back in time for a little girl to get killed.

Cartwright, I want to know what's gone on so far that I might've missed, and if the entire rest of Chicago's just been sitting with its thumb up its collective arse with the Gene Genie gone.

Tyler, I'm sor just let me know you haven't been killed again or hit by another car or jumped off something.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
I've just received word that some of the people responsible for this may have positions in Chicago's own police force. There are still good coppers out there. I'm sure of it, but we've got no way of knowing who's who.

What you need to do is keep calm, stay under the radar, and do not give local law enforcement any reason to notice you. Lack of police support's going to make things harder on us, but we're not powerless here. Not even close. Since we can't count on police backup, the priority right now is to make sure you're someplace safe, with someone who can look after you if you can't do it on your own.

What's more, some of you may notice how I've locked this entry. I'm doing that for a few reasons, most notably that, if you look at the places that were hit, especially Elm Street Liquors, which was only advertised as a Wanderer-friendly spot the once, over the journals, you may notice a distinct pattern.

There's a possibility the journals have been compromised. Either they've got one or more of the resident supernaturals on their side, or, and this is the worse possibility, they've got a captive Wanderer and are going through their journal. A captive Wanderer would be good for the bastards for a few reasons, notably the one where they'd have access to everything locked to Wanderers, and are trusting that to keep them a step ahead of us.

So if this lock works right, the moment someone other than the journal's owner picks it up, this entry vanishes. I strongly encourage all of you to lock anything you've got to say in the same fashion. But don't rely on that alone, either.

Some of you may have noticed your journals tend to follow you if you're away from them for too long. That's both a good thing and a bad one, because if anyone's taken, all the bastards have to do is wait for the journal to show up with them. It's also a bit easier to steal a journal just long enough to find out what's going on than it is to abduct a person, so keep that in mind.

You can't stop them from getting your journal if they've got you. We're taking steps, all of us, to make sure that the 'getting you' part doesn't happen, but in the meantime, keep your journal close and lock everything. That journal is your best friend in the whole of the world, so treat it like it is, and don't leave it where anyone else can get their hands on it.

We've had some volunteers to look after people that need it, and a more formidable and talented group I've never seen, so if you need someone to take you anywhere, let me know, either here (under a lock), or over the phone. We'll send someone around, make sure you're safe.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
All right, boys and girls. Assuming you're not otherwise occupied, I'd like to see you all in the next fifteen minutes, room 220.

Any personal weapons you have, bring them unless you're Ianto. Cartwright, we'll find you something before we head out.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
We need to talk, you and I. There's some news I'm not going to trust to a journal where for all I know you'll decide to see if you can fly all over again.

My room. Whenever Torchwood can spare you.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
For those of you that know Chris Skelton, I'm looking for him, or any news of his whereabouts.

If you don't know me, I'm Gene Hunt, his DCI from Manchester. I tried to get in touch with him a while ago and got no response. I've been told this might be because he's a duckling. The fluffy, yellow kind, about the size of one of your damned American baseballs. Anyone who knows the differences in what animals actually look like and can give a more detailed description than Sam bloody Tyler could, feel free, as I haven't seen Chris as a duck, myself.

So if you see Chris, or a duckling matching that admittedly shitty description, let him know the Guv's looking for him, and if you'd be so kind as to let me know he hasn't been eaten by anything, I'd also appreciate it.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
[Locked to Chris Skelton]

Chris, just what are you doing with yourself lately? Haven't heard from you at all.

Not that there's anything like CID around here, but I've got to keep an eye on my lads, don't I?


[Locked to Becky Trapper]

Haven't heard from you, angel. Are you all right?

Over here, we've had Very Bad Men wandering into Torchwood headquarters and acting as if they own the place and everyone in it and kidnapping Sam. Got him back though. I bit him (I was a chipmunk at the time), he punched me (I wasn't then) and all's business as usual.

Let me know you're still alive, would you?

themanclion: (journal - frowny)
Sam's angel can't much sit still, and neither can I. We're going to get him.

Anyone that wants to come along, feel free. No one's charging in guns blazing, but at the very least, I'll be having a look, seeing what they've done, and working out a plan from there.

Since he's working with you lot, I thought you might like to know.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
Saw that post you made, before it vanished.

Think you might tell me what happened?
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
We need to talk, you and I.
themanclion: (rip your scrotum off)
[One heavily crossed-out section: what little remains legible seems to simply be a collection of curse words.]

So, tell me, Tyler, what does a civilian do around here when he's completely useless? Shall I take up crochet and calmly wait to get eaten by a wall?
themanclion: (oh christ...)
Things That've Gone Horribly Wrong So Far

  • I've managed to, through some remarkable act of brilliance, stumble through a rift in time and space whilst chasing down yet another pimple on the arse of humanity.
  • I can't go back.
  • Given that my entire department has the average competence level of a three year-old on a sugar rush, the bastard I was chasing may just go uncaught.
  • It's 2008, which makes this 35 years in my future, and no one's even got a flying car.
  • Also, I'm in America, where my badge does about as much good as condoms for a nun. ...make that an ugly nun. I've heard stories.
  • The beer around here tastes like frozen horse piss.
  • I've found out I TURN INTO A LION. I'm just waiting for someone to scratch my head and call me a nice puss.
  • Oh, and there are angels and demons and god knows what else everywhere. Can't forget that.
  • I'm quite possibly mad, and somewhere in Manchester, they've got me sitting in a nice rubber room while Tyler makes that V. Serious Face of his and pretends to pity me and acts like he's not a bigger nutter than an entire bleeding asylum put together.
  • If this is real, Tyler is not actually a bigger nutter than an entire bleeding asylum put together.

The Not-So-Bad Bits

  • With Raymondo and -- god help me for saying it -- Tyler around, CID might actually stand a chance. Might. As long as they get someone not from Hyde to run the place in my absence.
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