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[ FINISHED / CLOSED ]
Who: John Sheppard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
impavid) & Ianto Jones (torchwoodteaboy), & intro-log people
What: A collection of ROOMMATES chatter & INTRO LOG OVERFLOWS
When: Through April, after the intro log & during intro log overflows
Where: Olympia Starter Housing, various
Warning(s): N/A at the offset
The room is small, and the privacy is a little lacking, but John's travelled in enough rural and underdeveloped places that he's just glad of having walls and a bathroom. He scans the space vaguely, trying to weigh up if there's any difference between the beds before stepping through to nose into the other rooms. One bathroom, one kitchen, one central space and two nooks with beds. It's definitely not the worst space he's been in.
Ducking under a beam he begins to undo his tactical vest, shrugs it off and unzips the waterproof jacket underneath to reveal a plain black t-shirt.
"So. It's not exactly homey, yet, but it's dry and has running water by the looks of it. I think I'd call that a win." John himself doesn't need much more than that. "If you have a preference pick a bed now."
They look the same to John. He supposes the choice is really how close you want to be to the front door.
impavid) & Ianto Jones (torchwoodteaboy), & intro-log peopleWhat: A collection of ROOMMATES chatter & INTRO LOG OVERFLOWS
When: Through April, after the intro log & during intro log overflows
Where: Olympia Starter Housing, various
Warning(s): N/A at the offset
The room is small, and the privacy is a little lacking, but John's travelled in enough rural and underdeveloped places that he's just glad of having walls and a bathroom. He scans the space vaguely, trying to weigh up if there's any difference between the beds before stepping through to nose into the other rooms. One bathroom, one kitchen, one central space and two nooks with beds. It's definitely not the worst space he's been in.
Ducking under a beam he begins to undo his tactical vest, shrugs it off and unzips the waterproof jacket underneath to reveal a plain black t-shirt.
"So. It's not exactly homey, yet, but it's dry and has running water by the looks of it. I think I'd call that a win." John himself doesn't need much more than that. "If you have a preference pick a bed now."
They look the same to John. He supposes the choice is really how close you want to be to the front door.
no subject
In truth, he really only wants to be certain his team is okay. Rhiannon, Johnny, and the children. And yes, alright, maybe Myfanwy as well, as mad as that sounds to be worried for a creature like that. Maybe it's selfish, but that's how it has to be. He can't let himself think much further beyond that, not about his neighbors or the people he's friendly with at the local or any of the rest of it, because he'll find himself back down in that hole and it will just get harder and harder to crawl out of with only himself -- and perhaps John here -- to pull him from him.
He wants to tell John that he's a better person than he is. He wants to tell him that Torchwood and -- whatever organization John works for -- they might have been similar, but that Ianto himself was never more than a glorified teaboy there. But it's hardly the sort of thing to tell a man who's put up with quite a lot from him today already. So instead he takes a breath and replies, as casually as he can (which is honestly not so much but at least he's aiming for normal), "I'm afraid it seems all we've got in is tap water and while the thought is appreciated, the effect isn't quite the same. At least, one would hope."
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Still, Ianto clearly needs a distraction. He studies him for a long moment, weighing up everything he knows about the man. Torchwood is clearly some kind of British equivalent to Stargate Command, handling offworld threats -- just only ones that are landed rather than exploring and finding them. Maybe night quite as heavily armed forces, but same concept. So he's probably got an interest in Alien Technology.
Setting aside the chocolate bar, he digs out his Life-Signs Detector again, lets it light up and begins to casually fiddle with it. There's no point overtly asking for help, that's too transparent. Ianto would realise there's no point asking someone who probably never touched the thing for help with it. All the same, it's easy to bait his curiosity.
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"I think I've had enough excitement the past few days, between you and me," he replies.
Of course the device the other man is using quickly catches his eye again. He had seen John fiddling with it on several occasions on their journey from the camp, but he hadn't really gotten a clear description of the tech as they had walked. "Unless you can use that to locate us the nearest shop," he muses. It has to be something to do with maps and location, after all. That's how John had seemed to be using it so far, at least.
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He lifts his eyes to Ianto, scanning him with a thoughtful frown.
"I don't suppose Torchwood requires ancient languages in its recruitment schemes?"
It doesn't require military training it seems, so... what then? There must be some criteria. Something that qualifies you for defending the planet against secret alien invasions? Although... John hesitantly remembers Ianto being referred to as a teaboy, and wonders if that's the truth.
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He offers the other man a one-shouldered shrug. "Why do you ask?" There must have been a point to the question, after all. It's a weird sort of thing to ask if you're just trying to get to know a person. True, Ianto knows decent Welsh and a bit of Latin, but he hardly thinks that would be a relevant answer besides.
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"Well that's what the menu's written in, my dear Watson."
Sure, John can read just enough of it to get by -- but he isn't as good with these things as Rodney is. It really is just enough to get by, and most of his ability to navigate the thing is simply down to it reading his mind. Which, you know, is not exactly an easy lead in.
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He moves to stick his hands in his pockets. "Toshiko works with our technology, Jack is our leader, Owen is our medic, Gwen -- well, she was former police so I suppose she specializes in investigation. Dealing with people as well as solving the puzzle. And I..." How to even describe his role at Torchwood. I clean up your shit and that's the way you like it: no questions asked.
"I suppose that I do everything else," he allows.
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The screen changes and scrolls through some more runic writing.
"Well, yes," he says as if in response to that. "I need something to upload -- and I'm not exactly sure how to get that in the right format. But! It's a good idea. In principle."
He rests the device on his leg and shoots Ianto a mock-curious look.
"Do you have any maps of this planet in ancient-friendly formats?"
no subject
"I'm sorry," he replies, holding up a hand to suggest they pause whatever conversation John might be trying to have with him, "are you... Idea? Is there something I'm missing here?" Because he's pretty sure that John is having a one-sided conversation with his PDA, and he knows it's been a long day for both of them but.
What the hell is an ancient-friendly format anyway?
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"Uploading a map," he specifies. "It's a good idea! Then we can navigate with it!"
What part of all this could possibly be confusing?
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"There are maps in the packs," Ianto answers, eyeing the other man suspiciously. "But I don't know how you'd be able to translate it from one format to the other. Unless that device has a scanning function...?"
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Then he could try and hook everything up, in some unholy mess of cables. To what end? He has no idea. He'll work that out if he even gets that far.
"For now I guess we're just... in the void."
He flips it back out of the screen full of symbols, and it resolves to... dots. Two dots in the middle close together, and an array of moving dots at varying distances around them. People next door, people walking by. Without walls, it really is just a void... of dots.
no subject
"I don't suppose that has any way of differentiating between the different dots, to find a person in the crowd?" he wonders aloud.
It would probably be the only useful function, with no map capabilities available, at the moment. Otherwise, what's the point of it. Though in truth, even with the map function, what's the point of it in general, he has to wonder. Technological eyes and ears? What do the dots even represent? If a mouse or whatever alien equivalent should happen into their little abode, would it appear as another dot as well?
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"Yeah, I did that once. I can --" and he gestures at one of the dots vaguely, which changes to a different blue. "Tag you a different colour so I can find you if we get split up. It's pretty cool, can pick up energy readings too. Like radiation, power sources. That kind of thing."
He squints thoughtfully, then looks up and frowns at the wall opposite.
"I'm not exactly sure what they use for power here, come to think of it."
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"How does it differentiate between the lot of them?" Ianto asks. "What is it even reading, exactly?" Humans? Heartbeats? Heat signs? He wishes he understood more about the technology but it's all so, well, alien. What he wouldn't give for more of the Torchwood tech here to fall back on himself.
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He really doesn't. It just sort of... works. Somehow. John isn't exactly an expert in the whys, he just thinks stuff and it happens. He holds it out to Ianto to toy with, all the same. Not that it why respond to anything for him, but he can look at it if he's curious.
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"Torchwood Three was built on a rift in time and space that ran through the center of Cardiff Bay," Ianto says, after a moment's silent study. "It was our job to monitor what came in and out of the Rift, and deal with it. Collect it." He gestures with the PDA or whatever it is that John might call it. "We got a lot of tech not unlike this, and it was our job to figure out what it was supposed to do. Whether it might be of use to us. Or archive it, if it wasn't."
He moves to hand the device back to the other man. "I'm afraid this one might have wound up in the archives, especially if it's not willing to cooperate for anyone but you."
no subject
"How much stuff did you have? In your archives."
Since 'a lot' is a pretty vague term. 'A lot' can be relative to how big your team is, how much space you have, etc. Was any of it Ancient? He supposes Ianto wouldn't necessarily know, but John can't help but feel curious. Maybe he'd even recognise a description of something.
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"Torchwood Cardiff was in operation since 1885," he says, after a moment. "They've been collecting things ever since, really, though their cataloging system changed a few times over the years and really there were a few people at certain times that should have left well enough alone. We probably have..." He winces. "Had, I suppose. Had about 3000 items. Give or take." He lifts a shoulder to shrug. "If we had more staff I might have done better but." But there were only five of them, and then Jack had pissed off to god knows where and left them with their head cut off, as it were.
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"That's a lot more than I expected," he admits, and sets the scanner down on the edge of the bed. "Guess you might have had some stuff like this and not even known. How long ago did you join?"
Torchwood, that is. Presumably he didn't join in 1885, but was it a year ago? A month? The teaboy comment suggested something maybe more recent, but then again it might be an old memory. Like Holland.