Sun, Surf And Stars [OPEN]

[Gylfie Murdoch]

Scott is currently wearing this.
Minus the chick.

Ooc; Okay! This is going to be my first roleplay
for Scott Keaton. I want it to have some flow,
so I thought it might be a good idea to mention
the plot and everything now.

Some Torchwood members (not necessarily all
of them) arrive in Australia to help with an alien
that has fallen through into the Queensland rain-
forests. It's big and it's mean. So far, there have
been no victims, but plenty of sightings. Police
have closed off the rainforest, but rebellious
teens and the like are still getting through. The
government want Torchwood to capture and
contain it quickly, but the Australian team don't
have enough free hands to spare.

The temperature is hot hot hot. c: It's going to
rain at some stage, but until then, there's only
thick cloud cover.

Ah, anyone can join, just be reasonable.

Gylfie will be joining in later, most likely. I like
writing for her.

The airport had the feel of a hospital, what with the tinted windows, the shrill beeping and the flickering of fluorescent bulbs. The only thing missing was the rank smell of disinfectant and the crying families - oh, wait, they had those too. The vending machines, the feeling of sadness. Only one thing really shone in the building.

And that was the bright white bursts of camera flashes, the pearly white teeth of local celebrity Scott Keaton and the pure energy he exuded. People were immediately attracted to his cheeky smile, his bright blue eyes and the casual manner in which he held himself. He was a strobe light in a dark, dank room.

After posing for a few pictures, he turned his back to the media and stared out at the tarmac. Heat rose in little waves, making the scrub far away appear almost alien. Alien. That's why he was here.

"The plane is scheduled to land in the next five minutes," a small mousy girl piped up from his side. Thick glasses peered up at him inquisitively.

Scott had told no one about this visit. No one at all. Certainly not June, his assistant. His agent had chosen her simply because she wasn't appealing in any way whatsoever. She was efficient, yes, but she was also a complete gossip. On more than one occasion, she had blabbed about his secret life - the girls Scott brought home late at night, the calls he got from some unknown lady in Melbourne, his disappearing acts. It was all wearing at his nerves and he wanted more than anything to fire her.

"Look, why don't you go and hire them a car for the week?" He said, a smirk forming. "There'll be roughly twenty of them. All completely obese. You might want to hire a van or something. They only drive automatic."

June nodded obediently, oblivious to Scott's ploy. She was almost out of sight when Scott called after her one more time. "They only drive bright blue vehicles. Nothing else."

After watching her disappear around a corner, he turned back to watch the plane circling above the airport. Getting rid of June had been simple enough, but he knew that even his impossible instructions would be solved quickly. He needed to sneak the other Torchwood members out of the airport quietly.

It was roughly another twenty minutes before Scott felt their arrival. It was like a cloud had been fluffed up inside his stomach. Of course, this was also the feeling he got whenever he was drunk... but this time it was different.

Smiling broadly, he lifted his cardboard sign above his head. "TORCHWOOD" was printed boldly across it in bright red letters.

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[Owen Harper]

Owen hated the idea of going to Australia. He was going to be shipped as a dead man. Owen protested on that subject. “I might be a walking dead man but I am not being stuffed in a box and I will not be delivered as cargo!”

Pouted and whined, Owen had been shipped in a coffin with the Torchwood gear. It was a great plan and all that. Owen hated flying. He feared flying. Jack had told they needed him in Australia. So, Jack used his wit and charm to convince Owen to do the impossible.

No food, no sleep, no bathroom emergencies, no film and no drinking! He had been texting to Toshiko while he was in the coffin. He had communications. “Are we there yet? I am tired being in a coffin!” he texted to them.

He had not to worry about breathing either. He was well cushioned and packed. It was first class coffin flight for Owen and he hated it!

“They better not misplace me,” he text Toshiko. “If I find I been accidently shipped to USA I swear I am going to scream and freak people out!” he text. He got good texting with his right hand. “

"Toshiko, please ask Gylfie have some stretching and exercise machine ready for me. I will need to stretch. I am not sure I will be stiff up. “ he pause. “You can stuff me up and I will be a Rassilon trophy! Here is Owen our trophy. He is dead, stuffed and he is emotionally alive.” Owen waited. “Toshiko look I don’t ignore me…---“ he saw his phone gone dead. “DEAD! Oh crying out loud! STUPID!” he shut his eyes. His outside communication vanished because he killed the battery on texting.

[The First Doctor]

16 hours.

Theoretically, that was the amount of time required to fly from San Francisco to Canberra International Airport. Galen had been on the plane for nearly 20, at this point. Boarding times. Time waiting for clearance to taxi to the runway. Time waiting to get on the runway. Delay after delay.

He'd been crammed in his coach seat, next to an obese woman with cheeto-orange hair who smelled faintly of garlic even through her liberal applications of perfume, for most of that time. And she talked, constantly. About anything and everything. Even if you weren't paying attention. Even if you were trying to sleep.

The most restful hour he'd had, he had spent locked in the bathroom. He'd pretended to be constipated, and would have stayed longer had the Captain not turned on the "fasten seat belts" sign.

He needed a shower. He needed clean clothes. He needed a shave. He wanted several stiff drinks.

The orange-haired woman rambled on, lost in a monologue about her third cat's kidney stones. Galen had never even wanted to know that cats could get kidney stones.

I could claim that I thought she was a Slitheen, he thought. Just one blow, and blessed silence.

He knew he wasn't serious. But it tempted him so.

"We will be entering a holding pattern above Canberra International Airport. Air traffic control has advised us that we will be able to land in approximately 45 minutes."

This "multilateral exchange of operational resources" program had better be worth it.

[Gylfie Murdoch]

Ooc; We'll wait roughly two more days and then
we'll have all of the characters meet up at the
airport. Scott's still standing in the terminal with
his cardboard sign.

[Gylfie Murdoch]

Ooc; I'll be roleplaying Jack in this thread. You
two can post your characters arriving and going
through the customs first. I'd like the story to
move along.

[gylfie2]

Jack is currently wearing this.

Ooc; Okay, so I guess you two haven't checked back
here yet. I hope that you're still willing to roleplay here!

I'll start things off by having the plane land, okay? Jack
will be getting Owen first. I don't think he'll know Galen.
If you want him to, One, then just write it into the thread.

There was static running through the plane, coming directly from business class. Captain Jack Harkness wore his cheekiest grin and shot it to his neighbor, a young man in a suit. It was hot, even inside the air-conditioned cabin, but Jack didn't let it get to him. The suited man, however, began to look increasingly flustered, a sweat breaking out on his brow.

Neither noticed that they had descended until the wheels hit the tarmac. The suit gasped and clutched at the arm rest, instead finding Jack's open hand. The Captain's grin grew broader.

"At least buy me dinner, first," he said loudly, causing everyone within a three seat radius to turn.

The suit turned even brighter and shook off Jack, standing as soon as the seat belt sign turned off. Of course, being himself, Jack stood as well, restricting the little room they had in the beginning. The man in the suit pushed past roughly and stormed off down the aisle, dodging other suits. Jack soon lost sight of him amongst the mixture of black, white and tweed.

He was still peering down the aisle when a short hostess made her way to him. She was pretty, with curly black hair and clear, dark skin. Had he not met her before, Jack's grin would've return. Unfortunately, this was the girl who would help him find Owen, his "deceased" brother. A solemn frown settled firmly upon his face, making him look like a brooding celebrity. She returned the look and gestured for him to follow.

This was not Jack's first time in Australia, thought it was his first time in Queensland. He looked forward to seeing the Australian team again, especially his little kangaroo, Gylfie. She'd been on a hiatus for the past few months, working on a secret project. No one knew what it was. Jack looked forward to charming it out of her.

"Here's your brother, sir," the hostess said quietly. They'd arrived in a chilled room near the luggage carts. "I'm sorry about your loss."

"Yeah, well, Owen was always a bit of an egg," Jack muttered, knowing that he'd be beaten up for saying such a thing. "I can't believe he tripped over in front of a tractor. I mean, the thing was going no less than five miles an hour."

The hostess bit her lip, trying not to laugh. She helped Jack mount the coffin onto the cart and then waved as they parted ways.

Roughly ten more minutes and he was pushing around a shiny black coffin covered in suitcases and duffel bags. He looked like a freak. If not a freak, then some morbid rock star. He earned more than a few strange looks as he walked around the airport terminals. He had no idea where he was going.

"I think I should check where we're going," he said out loud. Pulling out his sleek new phone, he checked the text message. Terminal Eleven, look for a man in a gray suit coat the text said.

Ooc; My fingers are getting tired now. I'm going to
let everyone else have a chance at posting before I
write for Scott and Gylfie again.

[Owen Harper]

Owen rolled his eyes when he heard Jack. ‘I am going to kill you Jack,’ thought Owen. Brother. He sighed. He was getting coffin-phobic. He had a sensed Jack had seemed to enjoy this. Owen had to wait. He was Owen in the box. It should be Jack in the box.

[Gylfie Murdoch]

Ooc; Owen, I'm afraid you won't have much
to write until they get to the car. :c

(Also - LOL Jack in the box!)

[The First Doctor]

Customs presented its own special set of hurdles.

The plane had finally touched down, finally taxied to the terminal, finally allowed its weary passengers to disembark.

The orange-haired woman had never shut up. But now she was jabbering aimlessly at some distressed-looking Indian, who kept rolling his eyes and making convulsive throttling gestures with his hands.

Cheer up, buddy, Galen thought, You've only been stuck with her for an hour.

So now, customs. Most of his luggage was perfectly ordinary - clothes, toiletries, books, a laptop computer, and so forth. But some of it was distinctly out of the ordinary. The unusual titanium structure that resembled nothing so much as a sleeve of old-fashioned plate armor, for instance.

The customs agent eyed Galen curiously. "And what is this?"

Galen sighed, and called up his rehearsed speech. "I was in the Gulf. Thanks to injuries sustained there, I am now the proud possessor of an experimental DARPA prosthetic arm." At this he proffered a card, which indicated that he did indeed have prosthetics - including a plate in his head - and should be manually inspected instead of being passed through a metal detector. "That shell is designed to protect it from damage. I don't wear it on planes, because of the extra bulk in the seating."

The customs agent inspected the card, which had the same sort of seals and signatures as his passport. Galen waited as the customs agent called over his supervisor, and they discussed the document in some length.

They waived for him to step out of line, and the phone calls and extra scrutiny began.

---

Half an hour later, Galen dragged his wheeled suitcase through the terminal. Somewhere in this building was a man with a sign for Torchwood. That man would have a car. That car would take him to a hotel, where he could sleep off the jet lag.

He needed to find that man.

[Gylfie Murdoch]

Ooc; I've just realized that Jack and Scott have
the same font, therefore, Scott will now be written
using the default font. I think it's Arial, but I'm not
too sure. If this is inconvenient for anyone, then I
apologize, but it's not too big a deal.

Never mind. I just realized that Scott's actually in
Garamond and Jack is in Times New Roman. c:

From his position in terminal eleven, Scott could see an approaching Torchwood member. His face had been printed across Scott's computer screen for well over a week now, ever since the discovery of the massive creature residing in the Queensland forests. He just hoped that this American man knew what he [Scott] was supposed to look like. What if there were other people holding "TORCHWOOD" signs?

As the man got closer to him, Scott put on a his largest celebrity smile. Captain Jack Harkness. He had heard plenty of stories about him and read even more. He was a Torchwood legend and renown across the internet as "the man who cannot die". Of course, being known for your inability to die wasn't necessarily a good thing, but nevertheless, Jack could live forever. Scott envied him.

Scott continued to watch as Jack got closer and closer and closer. Eventually, he was close enough for Scott to see the shiny black coffin piled under a mountain of bags.

Maybe it isn't Jack? He thought in complete and utter confusion. The system mentioned nothing about a dead body coming through. I don't know. It looks like Jack. I've seen more than enough pictures of him - brown hair, flirtatious and confident, suspenders. It must be him.

But after a few more seconds, the American did not alter his path. He stopped right in front of Scott, the low light bouncing off the thin layer of sweat on his right cheek. Figuring he would continue to be the gracious host, Scott offered his hand.

"Scott Keaton," he said boldly. "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

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[The First Doctor]

Galen blinked fatigue from his one human eye - the other one couldn't blink, as it lacked eyelids. Up ahead he saw a man in a grey suit, holding a sign reading "Torchwood".

"That has to be him," Galen muttered.

He reached the man with the sign just as another man - a devilishly handsome man - came to a stop pushing a luggage cart that appeared to have a coffin on it.

The devilishly handsome man's face registered. Captain Jack Harkness - old RAINBOW ENIGMA himself. So the man with the sign must be Scott Keaton.

"Scott Keaton," the man in the suit said. "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Galen Hall."

[Gylfie Murdoch]

Ooc; If my memory serves me well, Galen's right arm has the
prosthetic? I'll read back through the thread for mention of it.
... Nope. I'll just go by memory.

Scott acknowledged the new arrival, Galen Hall, with a friendly nod and a firm shake of his left hand.

So far, the team appeared to be made up of alpha males, which Scott - nor Jack - didn't seem to be complaining about. The more brawn, the better, in his current point of view. By no means did he consider the ladies of Torchwood stupid, but he preferred his women to be beautiful, soft and unintelligent more than anything else.

Once Gylfie and the others - Scott sent a quick peep over jack's shoulder, looking for anymore team members - get here, there'll be no more man talk, no more uncensored nonsense. I should make the most of it.

"So how about these air hostesses?" He said playfully, nudging Galen in the rib.

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[gylfie2]

Jack received Scott's warm welcome silently, shaking his hand with a strong grip. He was acting coy, scanning his newest team member without attracting too much attention to himself. This was the soft act that often led people astray.

Scott and Galen both seemed right up his alley. Both were breathing and appeared to have genitalia.

"It's nice to meet you Scott," he said, smiling and moving to shake Galen's hand now. "And it's nice to meet you too!"

The Torchwood 3 computers had been smothered in photos of these men, continuously alerting Jack to his up-and-coming trip. Toshiko had been persistent in hammering their images into Jack's brain, making sure that he wouldn't forget his temporary team. Only now did he realize how old his teammates were. They weren't young and bouncy like the other people he'd worked with, but they were certainly fit.

Air hostesses. Jack's attention was snapped back to the present and he grinned. He and Scott were going to get along fine.

[Owen Harper]

ooc I will delete this later. I understand EVERYONE is having problem with nature or mother nature. So I can wait. But keep us inform your okay. If I hear people are not on I will worry and think the worse. I did lose a friend from a Katrina Hurricane!

[gylfie2]

Ooc; Don't go worrying about me, bub. I'm one sturdy chick,
having been raised by two sturdy parents. c:

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