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fandomweekly2024-09-01 02:46 pm
badly_knitted) wrote in fandomweekly2024-09-01 02:46 pm
Entry tags:
[#231] Mysterious Creatures (Torchwood)
Theme Prompt: #231 – Mystery
Title: Mysterious Creatures
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: No.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: A lot of things stored down in the archives remain a mystery, but the most mysterious things of all are the Archive Monsters.
There was much about Torchwood that was mysterious, especially to outsiders, who might have heard of the organisation, even seen the big black SUV racing through town, but who had little idea of Torchwood’s actual purpose, never mind who worked there, or where their base was located.
But aspects of Torchwood were often as mystifying to its employees as to the general public. For a start, they were led by a man who couldn’t stay dead, and a large part of their job was to collect the random, and often unidentifiable, objects that fell through a Rift in time and space that ran through the city.
The archives were full of strange devices and peculiar artefacts, many of which defied explanation even after careful investigation revealed what they could be used for. Who really needed a device that turned everything it touched into glass, except for wood and anything that already happened to be glass? It hardly seemed practical.
Ianto Jones, Torchwood Three’s self-styled Archivist in residence, since he spent more time in the base than he did at his flat, spent every moment he could spare down in the extensive cavern of rooms and passageways that constituted the Hub’s archives. He was engaged in an ongoing battle to organise and catalogue everything stored there, identifying what he could, but considering there were thousands of items on shelves, crammed into boxes, or simply heaped wherever there was room, it was a slow process.
Not that he minded; he found the self-imposed task fascinating, and enjoyed spending time with either Jack or Tosh, trying to decipher the purpose of various items. Sometimes they came up with a working theory, other times they remained completely baffled, and on very rare occasions, inspiration would strike, and another minor mystery would be solved. Jack always treated those successes as an excuse for celebration, and since such ‘celebrations’ generally involved himself, Ianto, and some decidedly adult activities, Ianto seldom complained.
There was one mystery, however, that Ianto wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to solve: the Archive Monsters. Something, or more accurately several somethings, had made their home deep in the Hub’s lower levels.
Ianto didn’t know exactly where; the archives themselves, extensive though they were, took up only a small percentage of the labyrinthine underground complex, and he made no effort to locate the curious creatures. If they’d been interested in making contact with humans, they would surely have done so long ago. According to Jack, they’d been in residence for over a century, but most of the time they merely lurked in the shadows, silently observing their hosts, their existence only marked by an occasional flicker of movement seen from the corner of the eye, and a vague sense of being watched.
Once he’d grown used to their unobtrusive presence, it had stopped bothering him, even become comforting in a way; he appreciated their quiet companionship, and they settled into a comfortable coexistence. Sometimes he even spoke to them when he knew they were nearby, never looking their way, just making small talk about the various items he was attempting to identify. They never answered, of course, he had no idea if they could even hear, let alone understand earth languages, but he felt it would be impolite not to at least acknowledge them.
That became even more important to Ianto after the Archive Monsters saved his life. He’d been trapped in a section of the archives undergoing decontamination procedures after an accidental spill of an unknow substance, and would either have died from the effects of the contaminant or suffocated if the aliens hadn’t come to his aid, constructing a device around his head that had allowed him to breathe filtered air.
Since that day, he’d sensed the Archive Monsters nearby almost every time he’d entered the archives. If someone else, Jack or Tosh, was with him, the strange beings would keep completely still and out of sight, but if Ianto was by himself, he’d sometimes catch brief glimpses of a crablike leg, or a feathery antenna, the curve of a carapace momentarily outlined against the background. There was something curiously protective about the way they hovered just on the edge of sight; it felt as though they were checking up on him, to make sure he was safe.
He was even more sure of that the day he was studying an odd piece of technology he’d found in a cardboard box stuffed under a shelf. He was trying to make sense of it when his Bluetooth earpiece, which he always wore when he was down in the archives, suddenly clicked, as if someone upstairs was trying to contact him, although her couldn’t hear anything.
Abandoning the device, he made his way up to the Hub to see if one of his colleagues needed something, only to find everyone busy at their desks. Since he was already there, he made coffee before going back downstairs with his own cup, where he found the unknown piece of alien technology completely disassembled, and several pieces missing.
When he took the remains upstairs to show Jack, the colour drained from his lover’s face. Apparently, the piece of tech was, or at least had been, a kind of anti-personnel mine, extremely sensitive and packed with two compounds that, when mixed, would have released a concentrated and highly toxic gas. Death would have been almost instantaneous; clearly, the Archive Monsters had saved Ianto again.
So, now, whenever he came across something he thought could be dangerous, even if he didn’t get mysteriously called away from his cataloguing, he’d leave the item on the floor and do some filing or something, come back after twenty minutes or so, and if the item was still there, in one piece, he figured he could consider it harmless. Occasionally, he’d find a powerpack removed, or an unnoticed compartment opened, and once the entire device was gone when he returned, but that was fine. He trusted the Archive Monsters to keep him safe.
The End
But aspects of Torchwood were often as mystifying to its employees as to the general public. For a start, they were led by a man who couldn’t stay dead, and a large part of their job was to collect the random, and often unidentifiable, objects that fell through a Rift in time and space that ran through the city.
The archives were full of strange devices and peculiar artefacts, many of which defied explanation even after careful investigation revealed what they could be used for. Who really needed a device that turned everything it touched into glass, except for wood and anything that already happened to be glass? It hardly seemed practical.
Ianto Jones, Torchwood Three’s self-styled Archivist in residence, since he spent more time in the base than he did at his flat, spent every moment he could spare down in the extensive cavern of rooms and passageways that constituted the Hub’s archives. He was engaged in an ongoing battle to organise and catalogue everything stored there, identifying what he could, but considering there were thousands of items on shelves, crammed into boxes, or simply heaped wherever there was room, it was a slow process.
Not that he minded; he found the self-imposed task fascinating, and enjoyed spending time with either Jack or Tosh, trying to decipher the purpose of various items. Sometimes they came up with a working theory, other times they remained completely baffled, and on very rare occasions, inspiration would strike, and another minor mystery would be solved. Jack always treated those successes as an excuse for celebration, and since such ‘celebrations’ generally involved himself, Ianto, and some decidedly adult activities, Ianto seldom complained.
There was one mystery, however, that Ianto wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to solve: the Archive Monsters. Something, or more accurately several somethings, had made their home deep in the Hub’s lower levels.
Ianto didn’t know exactly where; the archives themselves, extensive though they were, took up only a small percentage of the labyrinthine underground complex, and he made no effort to locate the curious creatures. If they’d been interested in making contact with humans, they would surely have done so long ago. According to Jack, they’d been in residence for over a century, but most of the time they merely lurked in the shadows, silently observing their hosts, their existence only marked by an occasional flicker of movement seen from the corner of the eye, and a vague sense of being watched.
Once he’d grown used to their unobtrusive presence, it had stopped bothering him, even become comforting in a way; he appreciated their quiet companionship, and they settled into a comfortable coexistence. Sometimes he even spoke to them when he knew they were nearby, never looking their way, just making small talk about the various items he was attempting to identify. They never answered, of course, he had no idea if they could even hear, let alone understand earth languages, but he felt it would be impolite not to at least acknowledge them.
That became even more important to Ianto after the Archive Monsters saved his life. He’d been trapped in a section of the archives undergoing decontamination procedures after an accidental spill of an unknow substance, and would either have died from the effects of the contaminant or suffocated if the aliens hadn’t come to his aid, constructing a device around his head that had allowed him to breathe filtered air.
Since that day, he’d sensed the Archive Monsters nearby almost every time he’d entered the archives. If someone else, Jack or Tosh, was with him, the strange beings would keep completely still and out of sight, but if Ianto was by himself, he’d sometimes catch brief glimpses of a crablike leg, or a feathery antenna, the curve of a carapace momentarily outlined against the background. There was something curiously protective about the way they hovered just on the edge of sight; it felt as though they were checking up on him, to make sure he was safe.
He was even more sure of that the day he was studying an odd piece of technology he’d found in a cardboard box stuffed under a shelf. He was trying to make sense of it when his Bluetooth earpiece, which he always wore when he was down in the archives, suddenly clicked, as if someone upstairs was trying to contact him, although her couldn’t hear anything.
Abandoning the device, he made his way up to the Hub to see if one of his colleagues needed something, only to find everyone busy at their desks. Since he was already there, he made coffee before going back downstairs with his own cup, where he found the unknown piece of alien technology completely disassembled, and several pieces missing.
When he took the remains upstairs to show Jack, the colour drained from his lover’s face. Apparently, the piece of tech was, or at least had been, a kind of anti-personnel mine, extremely sensitive and packed with two compounds that, when mixed, would have released a concentrated and highly toxic gas. Death would have been almost instantaneous; clearly, the Archive Monsters had saved Ianto again.
So, now, whenever he came across something he thought could be dangerous, even if he didn’t get mysteriously called away from his cataloguing, he’d leave the item on the floor and do some filing or something, come back after twenty minutes or so, and if the item was still there, in one piece, he figured he could consider it harmless. Occasionally, he’d find a powerpack removed, or an unnoticed compartment opened, and once the entire device was gone when he returned, but that was fine. He trusted the Archive Monsters to keep him safe.
The End