He shoots Ianto a sideways glance before lifting his eyes to the sky, squinting at the sun to orientate himself.
"This way," he says finally, and begins to head in a direction that is presumably west. The sun is bright and hot, the sand deep, but John is used to that. His attention is largely focused on drowning out the sound of Holland's voice behind him as he begins to walk, say something mumbled.
"There's also," he begins, pitching for a conversational tone. "A few things I should probably tell you. Things of the... largely classified variety, but I'm guessing we're well out of jurisdiction for that. As far as I know, we're not at war with the Welsh either. I mean you have nothing we want, we're good on sheep."
John takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.
"So, you should know that while I'm from California I haven't been there in a long time. For... various reasons, but most recently because I've been part of a team."
Right. A team.
"An expedition," he enlarges, and begins to half turn toward Ianto. The sky begins to cloud over and John's eyes shoot up again, narrow at the rolling clouds. "That's not --"
Not right. The ground resolves from sand into metal, and the rain hits them both like a wall of wind and water. From the peculiar balcony they're standing on there's a view of nothing but ocean, with high waves being whipped up by the storm. Behind, a strange city towers in a mixture of metal and glass. John's desert gear is gone in favour of the black he was wearing before, and he feels his heart begin to race as he backs up away from the balcony. Not that it does much for shelter, the rain slams against the side of he city regardless.
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"This way," he says finally, and begins to head in a direction that is presumably west. The sun is bright and hot, the sand deep, but John is used to that. His attention is largely focused on drowning out the sound of Holland's voice behind him as he begins to walk, say something mumbled.
"There's also," he begins, pitching for a conversational tone. "A few things I should probably tell you. Things of the... largely classified variety, but I'm guessing we're well out of jurisdiction for that. As far as I know, we're not at war with the Welsh either. I mean you have nothing we want, we're good on sheep."
John takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.
"So, you should know that while I'm from California I haven't been there in a long time. For... various reasons, but most recently because I've been part of a team."
Right. A team.
"An expedition," he enlarges, and begins to half turn toward Ianto. The sky begins to cloud over and John's eyes shoot up again, narrow at the rolling clouds. "That's not --"
Not right. The ground resolves from sand into metal, and the rain hits them both like a wall of wind and water. From the peculiar balcony they're standing on there's a view of nothing but ocean, with high waves being whipped up by the storm. Behind, a strange city towers in a mixture of metal and glass. John's desert gear is gone in favour of the black he was wearing before, and he feels his heart begin to race as he backs up away from the balcony. Not that it does much for shelter, the rain slams against the side of he city regardless.