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Oh, Torchwood, how you dole out glee and WTF? in equal measures.
First, there is one indisputable fact that requires addressing.
RHYS RULES IN ALL THINGS FOREVER.
Working the explody doohickey! And with the chainsaw! And telling Jack off! And punching Jack in the face! And telling him off some more! Rhys! There WILL be a "hail to the king" icon, I promise!
I love Rhys.
I do not love Jack. Jack sucks. Jack makes me think of how dreadfully earnest I used to get about Buffy and how sincerely I hated some of the characters because of how they treated some of the other characters and the show never addressed it. Jack, if I were seventeen, I would hate you so hard. Owen and Ianto and Tosh should all hook up. And they could invite Gwen and Rhys over for orgies. AND THEY WOULD LEAVE YOU OUT. NO ORGIES FOR YOU, JACK. Not until you apologize to Owen properly and stop treating Ianto like the consolation prize (I'm actually starting to think the enraged Janto shippers have a point on this one, and up till now I've pretty much thought they were overreacting). You stand in the corner and you think about what you've done. You don't even get to watch.
He would probably prefer it if I just hated him with that adolescent fervor I used to direct at Buffy and Willow and left it at that. Oh, well. This way is more fun for me. To say nothing of Rhys and the rest of Torchwood. :D
Oh, and speaking of Owen, I laughed and laughed watching him empty his gun into the Jackshifter. That must have been therapeutic. I'm still hoping that the writers will address the whole "Jack brought Owen back and now he's stuck dead and they must both have issues about his culpability" thing, but I'm not holding my breath. Ah, well, that's what fic is for.
And from the "oh, yeah, I'm watching cheesy scifi" file: The shapeshifter consistently having perfect replicas of everyone's outfit. Awesome. There must be a shop round the corner from the church that specializes in period military uniforms and fugly green dresses. Man, I love this show. It's such a soap opera.
In conclusion: RHYS. <3
First, there is one indisputable fact that requires addressing.
RHYS RULES IN ALL THINGS FOREVER.
Working the explody doohickey! And with the chainsaw! And telling Jack off! And punching Jack in the face! And telling him off some more! Rhys! There WILL be a "hail to the king" icon, I promise!
I love Rhys.
I do not love Jack. Jack sucks. Jack makes me think of how dreadfully earnest I used to get about Buffy and how sincerely I hated some of the characters because of how they treated some of the other characters and the show never addressed it. Jack, if I were seventeen, I would hate you so hard. Owen and Ianto and Tosh should all hook up. And they could invite Gwen and Rhys over for orgies. AND THEY WOULD LEAVE YOU OUT. NO ORGIES FOR YOU, JACK. Not until you apologize to Owen properly and stop treating Ianto like the consolation prize (I'm actually starting to think the enraged Janto shippers have a point on this one, and up till now I've pretty much thought they were overreacting). You stand in the corner and you think about what you've done. You don't even get to watch.
He would probably prefer it if I just hated him with that adolescent fervor I used to direct at Buffy and Willow and left it at that. Oh, well. This way is more fun for me. To say nothing of Rhys and the rest of Torchwood. :D
Oh, and speaking of Owen, I laughed and laughed watching him empty his gun into the Jackshifter. That must have been therapeutic. I'm still hoping that the writers will address the whole "Jack brought Owen back and now he's stuck dead and they must both have issues about his culpability" thing, but I'm not holding my breath. Ah, well, that's what fic is for.
And from the "oh, yeah, I'm watching cheesy scifi" file: The shapeshifter consistently having perfect replicas of everyone's outfit. Awesome. There must be a shop round the corner from the church that specializes in period military uniforms and fugly green dresses. Man, I love this show. It's such a soap opera.
In conclusion: RHYS. <3
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