I had many thoughts about your parentheses and even started a line but it ended up being far too much to tackle in a single comment! Or a single fleeting thought process. Though the prompt itself delights me a lot.
So here's something ridiculous instead of lovely (spanned over 2 comments!!) ;D
Ianto picks his way through the slushy field and the consistency of the wet muck underfoot changes as he progresses, going from watery mud to a more gelatinous substance that coats his shoes, clear and shiny, making obscene noises as he pulls his feet out of its grip with every step.
There are similar sounds coming from behind him, and Ianto doesn't risk taking his eyes off the ground ahead of him as Owen makes a noise of intense disgust. As Ianto's pace slows further, Owen comes around to flank him--now they're practically wading through the viscous fluid that oozes gradually out from its point of origin. The clear semi-liquid holds chunks of what appears to be glass or perspex, and Ianto avoids touching them.
Owen snaps on his gloves and they both take a couple more slow, ponderous, sucking steps towards the body at the epicentre. At least, Ianto assumes it's a body--it looks sort of fleshy, and appears to have limbs although it's certainly not bipedal. Not that all aliens, or bodies for that matter, are bipedal, of course not. But this mass of wrinkly flesh, draped in limp tendrils, certainly doesn't match any species he can recall entering or reading of in the Archives.
"Looks like it was some sort of tank," Owen says, scowling in concentration and trying to find the path-of-least-slime towards the body. He nods down at the broken pieces of what must have been containing both the creature and its... brine? "Pet?"
Ianto presses his lips together in consideration. "Not exactly cute and cuddly, is it?"
Owen huffs briefly in amusement, but he doesn't look up at Ianto, instead leaning over as he peers closer at the thing--"Oi," he says abruptly. "I think it's still alive!"
Ianto sighs, trying not to feel disappointed--it's so much easier to transport and care for a corpse, after all, and struggles through the clear sludge to share Owen's vantage point. The body appears to be not so much a body as a... a face, unmistakably and alarmingly human in its features, albeit much too large.
Ianto sees what Owen saw, the mouth twitching a little, the eyelids trembling and screwed shut. Only then they open, and Owen swears and startles, the gooey grip on his feet too tight for him to slip, though his body tries.
Ianto can't look away. There's clearly intelligence in the huge eyes, let alone sentience, and Ianto feels at that moment inescapably scrutinised. The rain plastering his sodden hair to his forehead drips down into his eyes and he blinks rapidly.
no subject
So here's something ridiculous instead of lovely (spanned over 2 comments!!) ;D
Ianto picks his way through the slushy field and the consistency of the wet muck underfoot changes as he progresses, going from watery mud to a more gelatinous substance that coats his shoes, clear and shiny, making obscene noises as he pulls his feet out of its grip with every step.
There are similar sounds coming from behind him, and Ianto doesn't risk taking his eyes off the ground ahead of him as Owen makes a noise of intense disgust. As Ianto's pace slows further, Owen comes around to flank him--now they're practically wading through the viscous fluid that oozes gradually out from its point of origin. The clear semi-liquid holds chunks of what appears to be glass or perspex, and Ianto avoids touching them.
Owen snaps on his gloves and they both take a couple more slow, ponderous, sucking steps towards the body at the epicentre. At least, Ianto assumes it's a body--it looks sort of fleshy, and appears to have limbs although it's certainly not bipedal. Not that all aliens, or bodies for that matter, are bipedal, of course not. But this mass of wrinkly flesh, draped in limp tendrils, certainly doesn't match any species he can recall entering or reading of in the Archives.
"Looks like it was some sort of tank," Owen says, scowling in concentration and trying to find the path-of-least-slime towards the body. He nods down at the broken pieces of what must have been containing both the creature and its... brine? "Pet?"
Ianto presses his lips together in consideration. "Not exactly cute and cuddly, is it?"
Owen huffs briefly in amusement, but he doesn't look up at Ianto, instead leaning over as he peers closer at the thing--"Oi," he says abruptly. "I think it's still alive!"
Ianto sighs, trying not to feel disappointed--it's so much easier to transport and care for a corpse, after all, and struggles through the clear sludge to share Owen's vantage point. The body appears to be not so much a body as a... a face, unmistakably and alarmingly human in its features, albeit much too large.
Ianto sees what Owen saw, the mouth twitching a little, the eyelids trembling and screwed shut. Only then they open, and Owen swears and startles, the gooey grip on his feet too tight for him to slip, though his body tries.
Ianto can't look away. There's clearly intelligence in the huge eyes, let alone sentience, and Ianto feels at that moment inescapably scrutinised. The rain plastering his sodden hair to his forehead drips down into his eyes and he blinks rapidly.