❪ event ❫ khalo? can you hear me?

[natha]

In normal circumstances, this would have been near the time in which you're called upon to greet the newly awakened. Unfortunately, I speak to you to inform that we must postpone that — there is trouble on your horizon. What, I cannot see for sure. We shall continue to monitor the situation, however — we - ... we — [feed cuts off.] OLYMPIAN PRESERVATION     The city of Olympia is preparing the send-off of its most prized artifact: the heart of the ancient dragon, Ysverai. In doing this, they've transformed the palace court into an exhibition detailing the centuries-old war between Wyver and Olympia. Sculptures of Nithor the Exalted and his men and women in clean, white marble, while their armors are polished in perfect gold. Among Nithor are the sculptures of stallions in all shapes and sizes that also aided in the great war. Further in the exhibition, one may also find other artifacts of much older weaponry, rusted by its time in the earth, and items found from a time when humans feared the dragons. The Royal Guard has increased its numbers in wake of such a public event, particularly because the heart will be in display also. The heart is not what one might expect it to be: about the size of an average human, the heart's core is surrounded in stone, a red glow emitting from its still beating core. If that were not unsettling enough, one might also find that lingering around this particular exhibit will have undue affects on one's inhibitions. You'll notice your heart has fallen into sync with the organ, and your more selfish desires will come forth. Things that have long been buried will rise up and place you in a state of unease, encouraging paranoia about your companions intentions. Allow it to fester, and one will carry this feeling with them long after you've left the scene. It's probably a good thing this is leaving Olympia — perhaps it's a source of so much conflict you've endured. It's easy to become mesmerized by all the historical artifacts that are present in Olympia's exhibition. Some even seem mystical or, like Ysverai’s heart, to hold unspeakable powers. Others are just a little eerie. Either way, Olympia prides itself in its generosity and their grand displays, and so refugees are urged to learn more about their artifacts by spending the night in Palace Court. Though, someone should probably mention that there are rumors of strange, almost occult things happening around these relics at night. People speak of armored soldiers casting shadows that have the ability to walk on their own, or gemstones that catch the moonlight in a certain way and show you visions. But those are just silly ghost stories, right? TALL TALES OF KHALO VILLAGE     Because of Khalo's proximity to Wyver, it's no surprise that they would catch wind of the peace talks between Wyver and Olympia. In response, for the first time in centuries, Khalo Village has willingly granted passage to outsiders — but visitors will immediately find out that one cannot just simply walk into the village. Visitors will need to inhale the smoke of a fyrra herb in order to enter the premises without falling into slumber. Khalo is notably different than what refugees are used to. Visitors, specifically refugees, will find that they are exceedingly accommodating. The Khali are very intrigued by the outsiders, thus they're treated with much respect and given instant access to some of the best lounges and fyrra the village has to offer. In exchange, the village is interested in hearing about your journey thus far. Whether it be through a conversation with another individual or the Khali themselves, they'll very likely to have been eavesdropping and recording the tales of their exploits. Why, exactly? Perhaps it will not be immediately clear, but if you happened upon a venasou, a tamed Khali creature, it may have guided you to their Enchanted Library. Upon entering the library, visitors will notice that it is quite the happening place — but not because it's occupied by the Khali, but because there seems to be an assembly of magical quills seemingly writing on their own. The quills are mostly undisturbed by the intrusion and will not stop writing even if parchment is taken from it; it will simply produce another piece of paper and continue its tales. If you happen to read the parchment, you may notice that there is a daunting similarity between your story and the ones being written here. Tales of Thesa birthing new races and sending them from the sky, for example, are very popular in Khalo Village. They mark July 15th as the day in which the Moon Goddess, Thesa, created more people in her image and brought them to El Nysa as saviors. The coincidences don't end there: specifics about your home world might be found in the writings if you search deeply enough — but it's not without its exaggerations. These stories are given all sorts of poetic and literary forms, from short stories to limericks, biographies to something similar to haiku. If asked, the Khali will inform visitors that the enchanted library has access to vague parts of your memories, and thus it is duty-bound to record. The Khali have not seen stories as strange as the ones being made by refugees, which is largely why they are interested in them. NOTE: This is entirely optional! You may make up your own "stories" (fanfiction) and it could be as accurate or inaccurate, or as serious or silly as you'd like. While tales of the Thesa's descendants are still being written, visitors of the Enchanted Library might find intrigue in the more complete works — KING AND KIN. If one is willing to delve deep, they may also find parts of Wyver's past that have been removed from their own archives. These pages will recount the tales of Shanrian and Rasyc. Though a lot of the narrative seems to divide at certain points in the story, it becomes obvious with some quick reading that Rasyc is not only the son of Shanrian, but that he glorifies the Wyver of old, more bloodthirsty and brutal than it is today. Unlike his father, he does not take kindly to Olympia and the threat they will always pose for their people. He has not forgotten Olympia's past sins and he believes that, in his foolish quest for peace, the king has gone soft and no longer possesses the real will to fight. His present voice in affairs of state is not a loud one, as he chooses to speak in whispers and move in the dead of silence. In these quiet murmurings, he boasts of his unwavering belief in the power and dignity of his people. Of how they should all return to what they once were — the kingdom, its citizens, and naturally the father who he had once admired greatly. Though perhaps it can be argued that any estranged son would wish the same. It's difficult to pinpoint what becomes political and what is and always will be more personal for him. But, it hardly matters. It's clear that Rasyc will stop at nothing to achieve his objectives, even if it means never returning to place he calls home. Even if it means turning his back on his own father, Shanrian, King of Wyver... DRAGONFIRE. While tales of the Thesa's descendants are still being written, visitors to the Enchanted Library might find intrigue in the more complete works. In particular, tales of Ysverai, the last of Wyver's great high dragons. Ysverai is most commonly known for being slain by Olympia’s past king and legendary hero, Nithor, but here in Khalo he is depicted in another light. Ysverai is known to the Khali people as a wise being, old as the first inhabitants that walked El Nysa. The creature spoke in the common tongue to the early settlers, guiding them to refuge when his kin began to dominate the land at the cost of its own isolation. It ultimately becomes a tale of sacrifice, for its stand with Nithor became a testament against the Olympian Empire's long reaching influence. At the bottom, there is a quotation: Your hearts will fill with greed and malice the moment my own stops beating. Take care in the Eye of the Storm. Find strength in one another, before it is too late. It seems to end there. Refugees are naturally allowed to question the natives. However, keep in mind that many of their replies will seem more like speculation than fact. But maybe that can be fun too? If you have no interest in the library and the tales they've woven, feel free to explore any of the other areas of interest. Khalo Village is thrilled to be open for you all. THOSE THAT SEEK PEACE, AND THOSE THAT SEEK --     The morning of the 20th is marked by fairly dismal weather. The sky is overcast and a downpour seems imminent. Regardless of the poor forecast, those who signed up to assist in this mission will be required to come early in order to receive their briefing. Members of Group A: ▸ Jon Snow (song_of_ice) ▸ Daenerys Targaryen (dorzalta) ▸ Loras Tyrell (triplerose) ▸ Terra (earthy) ▸ Alisaie Leveilleur (adelphoi) ▸ Solider: 76 (personalwar) ▸ Ardyn Izunia (daemonized) ▸ Mai(maipokerface) ▸ Olivier Armstrong (wallsofbriggs) ▸ Atsushi Nakajima (gekkajuu) Members of Group B: ▸ Kale (kaleorbekaled) ▸ Diana Prince (wondie) ▸ Pheonix Wright (objectionattourney) ▸ Revolver Ocelot (shashka) ▸ Frederick (pebblestone) ▸ John Sheppard (impavid ▸ Ianto Jones (torchwoodteaboy) ▸ Lena Oxton (quevarly) ▸ Allura (quintessent) Due to the rain, members of Group A will have to immediately stop by the checkpoint at the East Watchtower. Additionally, the Royal Guard and Knightryders are well-prepared with extra cloaks for those who may require it. They also will provide basic refreshments such as water and bread. People are encouraged to take what they need prior to their departure on this mission. The checkpoints are a bit far between, after all. Members of the envoy will also be encouraged to utilize this time to become familiar with one another. Maybe some introductions are in order? You never know who will end up having your back... For both groups, the paths will be relatively straightforward with evenly spaced checkpoints along the way. The only issue seems to be the downpour, really. The rain is unforgiving and the roads easily become unstable and increasingly difficult for the carriage to be drawn through. Hence, there may be more than one occasion where you will be expected to lend a hand in prying out its wheels from a particularly pesky (and muddy) pothole. Or perhaps you will be called upon by a fellow guard to assist in getting a particularly stubborn creature out of the path ahead of you. Seems like it may be a longer journey than you expected. Dirtier, too. While weathering the conditions may have been a bit tiring, this journey isn't too bad, right? Well, maybe not. GROUP A. Once the carriage gets through the worst of the terrain and finally manages to depart from the watchtower, it won't be long until the group is met with a physical roadblock. A large tree trunk will be set down the center of the road, acting as a blockade. But, before the group can react or begin crafting a plan around this obstruction, the carriage will be attacked without warning. At first, it's unclear where the attack comes from or from whom, but you don't have the leisure to deliberate this. You hear one of your fellow guards mention something about bandits frequenting these parts, but maybe there's more to it? Either way, your task is clear: protect the artifact, Nithor's skull, and fight the bandits off. You'll be encouraged to try and capture them so that they may later be turned and questioned by the authorities. GROUP B. With clear motives to restock and collect a few more materials for the carriage, it's evident that the envoy will appear restless to arrive at the second checkpoint. However, despite their unspoken delight at seeing the South Outpost from a distance, it's clear something has gone awry. There will be several hooded figures awaiting them right where the mud path meets the cobblestone of the Outpost's road. Soon, several more of these figures will come to flank them from both sides. While they seem like bandits, at least from their physical appearance, there is something far more polished in their movements. They will be attacking the envoy in concise, practiced formations. For those who are more perceptive, it becomes obvious that they are moving around and acting as decoy to one central figure. This member is likely the "leader" of their group, but no matter how one may try to close the distance between themselves and this mysterious leader, someone will constantly get in the way of that. The fighting also seems to act as a distraction since by the time everything is cleared up... only two things are missing. The leader of this group of bandits and more importantly — Ysverai's heart. NOTE: Those RNG'd to thread out the capture and questioning of the bandits will have starters below. For everyone else that signed up, you will still have the opportunity to capture the assailants even though they were not selected to thread the interrogation; you are free to make up your NPCs with the same basic guideline: they will not reveal their motive or their organization. You may turn them in to authorities (Wyver or Olympia or otherwise) or find creative ways to get rid of them. FINAL OOC NOTE     To reiterate: you may use this log as a general mingle for everything from the May Outline, including all Khalo Village activities. In other words, your top-levels don't necessarily have to be related to the prompts written here. An AC-eligible thread in which your character participates in anything mentioned in the May Outline and/or Khalo Village location page may be submitted for 2 REP POINT FOR EITHER OLYMPIA OR WYVER. SUBMIT THE THREAD FOR OLYMPIA OR WYVER HERE OR HERE RESPECTIVELY BY June 10th 11:59 PM EST. For those who participated in this month's plot-related portion, to receive IC recognition for it, a summary of the thread must be submitted HERE by June 8th 11:59 PM EST. Please direct all queries to the question thread below. Thank you, and have fun! QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs ● bestiary taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp ● quest bulletin calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

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Ianto Jones | Torchwood | OTA, semi-closed, & closed

[torchwoodteaboy]

OLYMPIAN PRESERVATION
Ianto is a researcher. An archivist. He works with historical alien artifacts himself, or at least he had, back on Earth. So the thought of getting to peruse the exhibition that Olympia has put together is almost too good to be true. He spends as much time as he can strolling between row after row of sculpture and statue, weapon and suit of armor, reading every plaque he can locate and trying to place its historical significance. Soaking up as much information as he can on this new city he's settled into, in case for some reason it should come in useful one day. One never knows...

A.
So this is the Heart of Ysverai. Ianto wonders if it shouldn't be bigger, but then he doesn't know the first thing about dragons other than what he's heard or read so who can say. It appears to be glowing, and moreover beating, even though it has been separated from its body for more time than Ianto really wants to consider, since organs aren't supposed to function on their own period. There's no wonder it's a priceless artifact. Just looking at it gives him goosebumps, though perhaps it is for the wrong reasons.

"The Heart of the great dragon," he reads aloud. "And the Skull of the Hero Nithor, wasn't it? Seems rather morbid, if you ask me."

B.
The whole business with encouraging the visitors to spend the night in the Palace Court seems like a red flag, as far as Ianto is concerned. Especially when they are given no reason other than for the experience. He supposes there must be some special event or another, and so he returns after dark to wander the spaces between the artifacts once more, trying to gleam something that he might have missed the first go around.

He's just found himself in yet another row of racks of weaponry when there comes a sound from behind him. He turns, meaning to excuse himself out of the way of another visitor, and --

the sounds of metal ring all around and in the distance there comes the cry of a creature he has never heard before. an arrow spins through the air towards him and he raises his shield to deflect it easily. the arrow distracts him from the dagger in his neighbor's hand, which he does not see before it is too late and--

Ianto gasps, raising a hand to his chest and expecting to find blood there but there is nothing. No wound, no pain, no battle around him. What the hell?

THOSE THAT SEEK PEACE, AND THOSE THAT SEEK--; group b
Ianto really doesn't know why he's along for this journey. Well, that's a lie. It's because he's a member of the Diplomatic Council, at least in principle, because they need support staff and that's what he does, that's what he's good at. But he's no guard, and he's no diplomat. He's just there to make certain all the t's are crossed and the i's are dotted and everyone important enough to make this mission a success isn't wanting for anything.

Which is easier said than done considering he's still trying to get a feeling of the lay of the land himself. It would be easier if they weren't traveling by carriage, for a starter. And if it would just stop raining, for another.

"It's worse than bloody Wales, this is," Ianto mutters to himself, as he pulls his cloak tighter around himself and realizes that the party has, for the larger part, stopped moving. "Is there a problem?"

((ooc: could be potholes or bandits, open to either possibility!))

AFTERMATH; closed to jim
The party's arrival to Wyver was supposed to be a more celebratory event. The trade of Nithor's skull for Ysverai's heart, it was supposed to signal a gesture of goodwill between the two cultures, strengthen their trust. And instead here they have arrived, no Heart, tired, beaten, and bedraggled, and god only knows what's become of the other group.

So far, at least, it doesn't seem as though they're pointing the blame at the party themselves. They had tried their best, after all. It still doesn't help Ianto feel any better. They'd failed their mission, and he can see it in their faces, they all feel terrible for it. A priceless artifact, stolen from their watch.

It's no use turning around to head back now. No use trying to pick up the pieces and form some other plan of attack, not so run down as they all are. Ianto spends a little time wandering around the city with his roommate, John, but he can tell that their failure is bothering him as well and when he hands Ianto some money and begs off to meet up with other friends, Ianto lets him go. He finds himself something to eat and waits the appropriate amount of time to know that John isn't going to meet back up with him that night after all. And then he pulls out his mobile to make a call.

"Jim? It's Ianto." He sounds exhausted. "Are you there?"

((ooc: prose or brackets, will match style))

Olympian Preservation - B

[poolhall_killer]

It is a bizarre decision, though fortunately Venom isn't one to sleep at night so easily. Adjusting has been rough, so he too has decided to wander a bit. Initially, he hadn't planned on staying the night, but it was an important artifact. He figured he could lend some backup help for the ones chosen to escort it. But soon he hears some shuffling and moving, so he's off to investigate.

He's gliding the best he can in the confines of the palace, only to come upon Ianto guarding himself from some unknown threat. Yet there's no one around, at least no one that he can see.

Cue in hand, he carefully approaches the other man. "Ianto, correct? It's me. I heard a noise and came to investigate. Are you all right?"

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto's still feeling a bit shaken when the other man approaches him, and it takes him a moment to reassure himself that he really isn't under attack before he can respond.

"I, ehm. Yeah, that's right." He remembers him, from the forest. Venom, wasn't it? Something like that. An odd name, and the first person to mention to him the possibility that magic might be real. Well, little did he know. "I. Think I'm fine, I just." He glances around uncertainly. "I thought I saw something, I suppose."

It's more than that, of course, but how do you tell a person that you're experiencing hallucinations without sounding -- well. Mad.

[poolhall_killer]

Venom lowers his cue, visually sweeping the room for any kind of anomaly that might have scared Ianto. Nothing doesn't seem to be out of place, at least nothing he notices.

"The shadows were probably playing tricks on you. They seem to be all over the place." It's definitely unsettling as he comes closer, still remaining alert in case there is something lurking about. Both of their shadows look all elongated in the dim light, and the artifacts in the room look creepy enough without the scary mood lighting.

"However, if it was something tangible, they'll regret coming after you." Venom's using his stern leader voice in hopes of getting a reaction.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto glances around them. The shadows? But it had been so real. A battlefield, the knife...

He doesn't want to sound crazy, by saying any of it aloud, but the alternative is to sound stupid, so he shakes his head. "It was more than that, I. I think it was some sort of vision, perhaps? I've never experienced anything like it. There was -- a battle?"

He glances around, trying to understand what exactly had happened and whether he should be worried it might happen again.

[poolhall_killer]

Venom listens and tries his best to figure out what might have transpired here. Ianto sounds so convinced that something did happen, possibly more than just shadows messing with him. Perhaps an illusion caused by residual magic. He wouldn't be surprised if some of the artifacts had spells cast on them in the past.

He glances over at the surrounding displays. "Hmmm... many of these items were probably used in at least one battle. You might have been seeing what they saw."

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto glances aside at the artifacts that Venom references. A little warily because in all honesty the whole experience had been rather alarming and he isn't all that keen on having the scenario repeat itself again.

"Seeing what they saw..." he repeats. "I suppose that was something of the case. It was like I was reliving the memory of someone who was there. Their... Final moments, I suppose they were." He glances warily back at the other man.

"Is that normal, for these artifacts? Only it's just that, when I was visiting earlier, nothing happened of the sort." It was a normal display, giving him time to read up on all the inscriptions and everything.

[poolhall_killer]

"That I don't know, unfortunately." Venom glances over at the artifacts again. "Sometimes I feel enchanted items have a mind of their own. They can go weeks or months with nothing and then suddenly they inundate a visitor with their 'memory', so to speak." He can sense some tension in the room, but that might be from the gentleman with him. Not that Venom can blame him, after what he experienced.

"Are you spending the night here, as well?"

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto eyes the artifacts warily, before shaking his head. Glancing back at the other man in turn. "I hadn't exactly been planning on it," he admits. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm here, yes, but. Well, it just seems a bit odd, yeah? Insisting that we spend the night. I wanted to see what the fuss was all about, but I have a perfectly good bed to go home to and I don't see why I shouldn't return to it."

Especially if there are artifacts in these halls which are going to insist on giving him visions of being stabbed in battle. "It's not like they're going to be locking us in," he adds, before glancing warily at the other man. Are they?

[willrevile]

"Hey, Ianto. I'm here." Jim does not sound exhausted, despite having slept very little for the past few days up on Thesa. Fortunately whatever the network runs on isn't bothered by the poor weather conditions down on the planet, and his voice is clear. "Everything all right?"

He's heard rumblings about the artifact exchange going badly - fucking surprise - but not much in the way of detail. Currently he's in a commandeered lounge area going over equations to make sure he hasn't screwed up any math in his head. It'll be nice to know the station really isn't about to drop out of the sky or be slingshot out past the planet.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto lets out a dry laugh at the question, giving himself a moment to answer in some sarcastic or sardonic way, before running a hand over his face. "Not... Really, no," he replies. "It's all a bit shit, actually. We were attacked. Our caravan, or. Carriage. Whatever you would call it. I don't know. It's all a bit of a blur, really."

He moves to lean against the closest wall he reaches. "I don't suppose you've heard about it all already?" About their failure. Though he supposes it could have been worse. They've all made it out of the ambush alive, which is something to be grateful for, all things considered.

[willrevile]

"Jesus. You're in one piece, I hope?" He assumes so, given he didn't open with 'my arm's been blown off', or something, but still. He's a little surprised Ianto volunteered - he hadn't seemed to be too adept at this sort of thing. "I've heard some. I'm uh-- not in Wyver."

In the event Ianto is somewhere with native eavesdroppers, he doesn't want to say Thesa Station. Hopefully he'll piece it together.

"I was thinking about heading down soon, though. The situation up here doesn't appear to be worsening, and all I'm doing is monitoring an unchanging pattern."

[torchwoodteaboy]

"Yeah, yeah," Ianto reassures him dazedly. "I'm fine, I'm. A bit tossed about, but I'll be alright. I've made it to the city now after all the aftermath but I don't."

He lets out the huff of a laugh. "I don't really know what I'm doing. I don't mean to impose, but of course there was a part of me that was hoping I might find you here, but. Really, if you're busy, I can find my own way." To where, he isn't quite sure, but. He's not so pathetic that he can't figure it out.

[willrevile]

A beat of silence as the hamster wheel of his brain turns. "You're in Wyver?"

Buddy. Well-- at least the volunteers from his side of the fence ended up completing the mission, hopefully they're being taken care of in Olympia. (He wonders how bad Peggy's fuming...)

"Alright, give me a location ping and I'll send you directions to where I live. It'll be unlocked."

[torchwoodteaboy]

Oh, Jim. It's almost worth you not being in the city yet for this sort of a response. Ianto tries not to laugh as he fumbles with his mobile and tries to figure out how to send the ping as he's asked.

"Alright, ehm. There. That's it, I think? I'm near..." He looks around, but all the structures just look strange and foreign to him. Shaking his head, he leans back against the wall behind him. "Honestly, I've no idea, really. How does anyone find their way around in this city anyway?" Especially in this heat.

[willrevile]

How are you even alive.

Anyway, beep boop, directions sent. "Don't worry about it, just check your GPS. It'll take you right there. You might have to take a joke with the accommodations, but it's got a ceiling fan and nobody'll bug you. If you end up feeling really nervous, just wear the ring I gave you, and you'll be an honored celebrity instantly. Gets a little stifling, though."

There's a reason Jim doesn't ever use it.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Look, it's been a long day.

Ianto glances down at his phone, sighing in relief at the coordinates that pop up and the directions that follow. Though it's the mention of a ceiling fan that really does it for him in the end. "God, you're a lifesaver. Look. Just as long as that fan is working, I'll not complain." Once again, Ianto's not exactly dressed for the weather, although this has more to do with the fact that he would rather roast than wear short trousers, and the cloak he's had to carry around is stifling as well but he'll need it again if it ends up raining. Honestly, one day he'll invest in a proper jacket.

"I'll try not to cause a scene, yeah? Are you..." He trails off. Wow, he hopes that isn't too forward a question, but. He has to wonder whether this is just him, staying over at the other man's place, or whether Jim will actually be there this time.

closed to jim & john;

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto isn't entirely certain that this isn't a terrible idea, but Jim has dealt with these shamans before, and surely John would want to know more about them in that regard, right? They two men are as much similar as they are different and Ianto can see both the benefits to that as well as the negative aspects of it. He just hopes that they'll be able to focus well enough on the task at hand without hitting too many bumps in the road, which is where they might run into trouble.

He'd had a feeling that Jim had wanted to get an early start of things, and so he'd made it a point to be up bright and early. A gesture he hopes the pair of them appreciate, considering that Jim doesn't have a coffee maker and to say that Ianto is addicted is rather an understatement at this point. A text from John confirms the other man is on his way and that Ianto's efforts are not in vain, and he does his best to prop himself upright at the table and look alive as he waits for some sign of the other man's arrival.

[willrevile]

Jim has no expectation other than this going fine, because there's no reason for it not to. Anyway - as predicted, he's bright eyed and bushy tailed before Ianto is even conscious, having stayed awake to do some correspondence, slept a little in a chair with his feet up, then hopped up before dawn to shower and get ready to roll.

He's currently leaning against the counter, chewing on some leftover sandwich. It's a little soggy, and the lettuce has gone funny in the fridge.

"Sure you're gonna be okay? I could probably find some toothpicks to hold your eyelids up if you need it."

[impavid]

Try to play nice.

John can't believe that Ianto has asked him to play nice. He's always nice! Sure, sometimes he has a little trouble keeping his mouth shut but he's a nice person. People like him!

Well. People like him when he wants them to like him.

Which is the awkward part, probably. He needs to work on the whole antsy, defensive thing. It's just difficult, when he's already done this whole dance of proving himself and establishing himself and nobody here cares anyway so what's the point. He even feels angry at himself for it.

Still, he can try -- so after spending three quarters of the night awake on his little investigation he showers and changes up at the station. No need to confirm any bias by turning up looking too bad, even if he has a brand new cut on one side of his face. It's cleaned and not bleeding, and he's wearing his black Atlantis team jacket over a fresh short-sleeved t-shirt as he knocks on the door. It'll get hot soon enough once the sun is properly up, but John has been in heat before on duty and he'd rather have a jacket he can stuff in his bag and get out again in case it rains. He's even bothered to shave to minimise the judgement, because he's emotionally bracing himself for feeling judged at least fifteen to twenty minutes into this. He's turned away when the door opens, bag slung over one shoulder as he uneasily surveys the surrounding area. There's always a chance of more bandits following him, or shamans. Or both, he supposes. Or just the little kids from the old city who seem sure he has something worth stealing. The lines of his shoulders are tense and uneasy, but after a second he senses the door is open and turns. His posture snaps back into relaxed and easygoing reflexively, because look he's being nice, and John paints on his best we're all best friends this is fine smile. It's practised enough that it's pretty convincing.

"Hey, kids. Picked up some bread on the way up through the markets."

You know, so he wasn't just turning up and eating someone's food then leaving and all.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto grunts slightly in response to the other man's question. He had predicted that Jim would be one of those sorts from everything he's learned about the other man and everything he knows about his type as well, and he's somewhat amused to find out that he's right. He had slept well enough himself (in Jim's bed, which probably might have made it harder to sleep in if he hadn't been so damned exhausted), but he'd never been much of a morning person even without his caffeine addiction and the fact still stands.

He eyes Jim's soggy sandwich before shaking his head. "I'll be fine," he says. Wondering just how anyone can be so cheery so soon in the day before he hears John at the door. Glancing at the other man he pushes himself up from the table and runs a hand over his face and through his hair in the attempt to look a little more alive. Though he has to admit, he looks better rested than John does himself. He may be tired but he takes in just about everything about the other man, from the change of his clothes, the fact that he shaved, the new cut on his cheek, to the casual smile on his face and set of his shoulders.

Several emotions play over his face as he holds back the questions he wants to ask (also kids, really John?). Digging for something witty to say in return, before settling on simply, "Bless you. Here, come in." He tosses a glance back at Jim as he lets John in the door, before adding, "Maybe you can freshen up that sandwich."

[willrevile]

Bullheaded determination and good old fashioned spite is how Jim's so cheery. He spent entirely too many years with people expecting him to fail to have done anything but been on time to every single asscrack of dawn class, to be anything but instantly alert at any hour on the ship. He slipped up into bad habits, once. Never again.

Jim laughs quietly at Ianto, and then wolfs down the rest of the sandwich when someone's at the door. Too late to freshen anything.

"Hey, good morning," he greets, pushing off the counter. Maybe his own genuine ease can sooth whatever anxious knots John's secretly tying himself up in. "Thanks, man. I know my cooking isn't anyone's favorite, you might be saving a life." Jim will still eat it, though, because food going to waste isn't something he abides by, no matter what it happens to be. (While still being practical enough to understand not everyone wants weird leftovers.)

"So." He presses his hands together. "We're talking shamans and the Altar of Volkkra. Yeah?"

[impavid]

He watches Ianto struggle for a few seconds, lofts an eyebrow at him before finally reaching out to gently squeeze his upper arm as he slides past. He's fine, it's just a scratch, stop fussing.

"Help yourself," he says, and dumps down a paper bag on the kitchen table. The bread is fresh and also, slightly flavoured he thinks? He was hungry enough that it smelled good. His rucksack lands on the floor by a chair and John shrugs off his jacket, loops it over the back. There's a clean, new-looking bandage around his left arm where the bandit stabbed him -- along with a couple of newer (but still clean) scuffs and scratches on his skin. "So, good news everyone! Shamans drink dragon blood to become temporarily invulnerable and apparently it's spicy and therefore useful as a condiment."

This is not in fact good news but who's counting.

"Also, their hobbies include kidnapping, putting people in cage fights against chimeras and burning things. You still got a headache?"

The last part directed at Ianto, because he's thinking about his knock to the head and the no-fussing rule definitely doesn't apply to him.

"And if you lie to me," he adds, "I'm selling the coffee maker."

[torchwoodteaboy]

Wow Jim, that was actually pretty impressive. Ianto raises an eyebrow at how fast the sandwich had disappeared from one moment to the other before moving forward to fuss with the bread. He likes having something to fuss with, and it gives him something to fuss over that isn't John. Because he could have sworn he was in better shape the last time he'd seen him. Just what in the hell had he been getting himself into?

"It's fine," he says, as he digs around in Jim's little kitchen for some sort of knife to slice up the bread. (It does smell good.) Technically, he isn't lying to the other man by saying so either, even if he's not quite admitting to the fact that he's still got a headache either. It's fine. Just dehydration, or the damned humidity, or the fact that he hasn't had a decent coffee in over a day now. It really was only just a bump on the head, he's had worse, he'll live.

"Don't you dare touch that press," he warns over his shoulder. "Never get between a man and his coffee, John. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry." It's a deflection, pure and simple. Peppered with pop culture references which are John's favorite and thus will help his case, right?

"When you say 'invulnerable'..." he asks, turning with a knife he's managed to find -- maybe not the best for the job but it will do in a pinch. Sorry, Jim. You're the host but he's taken over hosting duties, it's what he does. "Do we know exactly what that entails?" He glances at the Captain. "Have you encountered any of this?"

[willrevile]

"That's about the size of it," he says. Sounds like John didn't need to make this stop, but he'll humor things. "They're not fully invulnerable when they're hopped up on it, but more annoying to take down than a human. One ignored a couple of hits from a phaser on a high stun setting, but getting punched in the face put him out."

Knock yourself out, Ianto. Jim offered him run of the place, after all.

"They're fanatics, all of them. Even the few remaining who've pleaded innocent, I don't particularly trust. Prior to the riots a few months back, they weren't regarded with such open suspicion, because - as far as I know - there wasn't anything to suggest they were ever up to anything sinister, just your basic, weirdo dragon-worshiping, magic-experimenting cult. They were even open to helping refugees learn about the culture here. Either there was an abrupt internal change, or the majority of them were playing a good, quiet long game.

"During the riots, they passed out tainted blood under the guise of it being a normal cultural ritual - which it was, except this time, the blood had the side-effect of turning anyone who drank it into a violent berserker. The same effect that a gas released in Olympia at the same time had. They were behind kidnappings in Wyver then, and they were behind the mass kidnappings here later, where refugees were taken, held, and tortured.

They use magic, usually through the form of potions they drink or poisons used on others, but they're inventive, so I wouldn't expect them to be limited to that anymore. I can't imagine there are many left, though. Wyver doesn't have much in the way of safe accommodations for prisoners. They weren't prepared to be taken alive. Was there magic being used in the attack on the convoy?"