❪ 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

Comments

[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.

[willrevile]

"It was working the last time I checked."

Jim's wrapping up what he's doing, up on Thesa - he was debating heading back dirtside, and this tips the scale that way. He wants to try and get an audience with Voss; ever since the idea was raised he's been stuck on it. Might as well give it a shot.

"No scenes to be caused, I don't think," Jim laughs. "If some giant bearded motherfucker pokes his head in just tell him he knows where the first aid kit is and the fridge is fair game." Things you have to put up with when you're friends with Batman 'Alan Foster'. "Speaking of, help yourself to whatever, and if you need to crash, go ahead. I'll be back in .. gimme an hour?"

[torchwoodteaboy]

Giant bearded...? He won't ask now, but he's sure you can imagine the look on his face just now anyway.

"Noted, on all counts. Though if you find me spread on the floor under the fan, try not to be alarmed," he quips. "I've only just collapsed with relief is all." It's only a slight exaggeration really. He will probably strip as far as he can within reason, drink as much water as he dares and doze until Jim returns, in all honesty.

He pauses a beat to let his awkward joking sink in before continuing, on a slightly more serious note, "Thanks, Jim. I don't mean to impose, but I. You know. I do appreciate it. It'll be good to see you again..."

[willrevile]

It's not so awkward, and Jim can be heard chuckling faintly through it. "It's not an imposition, and yeah, it'll be good to see you again. Take care, and I'll catch up with you soon."

A slightly abrupt goodbye, but Jim really does have to wrap things up on the station. He's been up there for several days at this stage, barely sleeping and only remembering to eat when chased down by mild mannered reporter Clark Kent with a sandwich. Woof.

Jim's 'apartment' is more akin to a studio flat in an area barely elevated from tents - and actually, the tents would probably be nicer, but this is where he was shuffled when he arrived, so this is where he's stayed. A rough rectangle, all greens and browns and brassy metal fixtures, it consists of a main room with a closet, a weird native steampunk tech kitchenette, a table and chairs, and at the far end of the room, a rounded alcove where the modest bed is - a small hallway leads from there to the bathroom. There is indeed a ceiling fan in the center of the apartment, though it looks curiously out of place. Inspection suggests Jim made and stuck it up there himself, running off a battery pack drilled into the ceiling, able to be turned on with a push of a button.

Left on the table is the charger for his phone, and a sealed bottle of whiskey. There are no other personal affects - no trinkets laid around, no decoration, nothing. Jim's left everything of value in the open, an old habit of living in shitty areas and expecting thieves. Inside the fridge he's got a half-eaten casserole filled with god-knows-what, some old takeout, a few glass bottles of cheap, local beer. His bed is made with military precision, and everything is tidy. If Ianto chooses to do some snooping, he'll find a couple of changes of clothes in the closet (all native styles), and no-frills supplies in the bathroom. No sign of the mentioned medkit or whatever clothes he must have arrived with.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto isn't certain whether he's really surprised by the other man's quarters or not. On one hand, they're... Spartan at best. Neat and tidy to the extent that they might as well have been Jim's quarters in some sort of barracks, lacking any sort of personal touch other than the ceiling fan and the food in the refrigerator. But Jim had said that he was military, and it. Makes sense, in a way. And reminds him of Jack in a way that almost physically hurts to think about.

Throwing his cloak over the back of the kitchen chair, Ianto inspects the ceiling fan before doing his best to turn it on without pulling the whole contraption down. He manages to find himself a glass for some water, downing it like a drowning man before poking through the fridge's contents and settling on a beer. Removing his overshirt to to join his cloak on the chair as he pours himself into the seat and wait for Jim's return.

It feels... Odd, to be here without him, and the discomfort of it just adds to the rest of the discomforts of the day. He doesn't really want to think about the mission, though. And the failure. And what it might mean for Olympia, if the bandits really do get that Heart to the shamans. (He'd really rather spend his night not thinking about much at all, if he can help himself.) So he sits, and drinks, and waits, and hopes Jim might have something else to eat besides that casserole...

[willrevile]

A little more than an hour ends up passing before there's sound of someone briskly approaching the front door - still within the realm of relatively punctual. "Hey," Jim calls as he opens the door, more to announce his presence as Not An Armed Robber than actually say hello. A dark blonde head pops in, followed by the rest of him, and Jim heaves a dramatic sigh as the door closes behind him.

"Being in crisp recycled air for a few days really drills home how awful humidity is," he laments, but it's in good humor. Jim grins. "Glad to see you made it in once piece. Everything okay?"

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto straightens himself in the chair he's sunk himself into, wondering whether he should stand and feeling a little odd for having made himself at home when the other man hadn't been home himself. Though it had been nearly an hour, and Jim had given him the invitation, so the way he feels is hardly warranted.

"Hey," he says, quirking a smile at the other man and raising his beer at him in turn. Ianto looks -- tired. Exhausted, really. There are a few bruises forming here and there but no real injuries from his confrontation with the bandits. He'd gotten lucky, and moreover he'd had his stun gun, which was certainly better than nothing. He also looks, well, warm. This Welshman has never been in a jungle atmosphere like this, and it shows. "I'm beginning to think I picked the right city just from the climate alone," he quips, though he knows it's not really what Jim was asking about. He'll get there in a second, he just. Needs a moment to appreciate the company first.

[willrevile]

"Yeah, it sucks," Jim says, though he doesn't seem all that bothered. A little sweaty, sure, but he's dealt with worse - and he's just not a complainer, in general. Unless it's superficial bitching, in which case: game on. He sets his backpack down on the table and unzips it, pulling out a plastic tupperware-like container. "Brought some sandwiches from the station," he explains. "I dunno how into my terrible cooking you'd be."

(He's also slightly weird about food going to waste, and between knowing most people aren't going to eat his awful attempts and the station being abandoned-- that's a story for ... never, actually.)

"Sorry to hear about the exchange going to hell, by the way. I'm sure there'll be plenty of noise about it soon."

[torchwoodteaboy]

The tupperware is oddly endearing, and Ianto smiles both at its appearance as well as in relief at the mention of food.

"I'm sure it's better than you make it sound but god, you're a lifesaver," he says, gratefully. He does have money for takeaway if it had come to that, but the money is John's and he'd rather save it up for something that might help benefit his roommate in turn than spend it because he's being picky about his offerings.

Speaking of -- he supposes he should start out with business, before he makes this entirely a social call. "It's pretty shit," he agrees. "And it's just going to get worse from here." He toys with his beer before glancing up at the other man, his expression sobering. "I don't suppose you might know anything about the shamans?"

[willrevile]

Either these are sandwiches Superman-made and they're amazing, or they're sandwiches Jim made and they're fine, but slightly haphazard. It is a mystery. Anyway, container on table, Jim puts the backpack away (chucks it onto his bed), and then goes about pulling his jacket off and fetching himself a beer as well.

"I do, in fact," he says, shaking his hair out. Feeling somewhat grimy after the transition from being very dry and tidy to suddenly drenched in hot humidity. In front of the fridge, he fusses around pulling up part of his shirt in puzzlement over trying to decide whether or not he actually smells or not. Smooth operator, over here. "I've been up in their labyrinth and seen the inhumane experiments they run, I've been involved in the investigations to find them after that, and was part of a team that rescued abductees in Wyver from them. What do you want to know?"

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto's done his best to clean most of the mud and blood off of himself, but he's not going to pretend he looks the best and god only knows how he smells himself, he won't judge one way or the other. He thinks about helping himself to a sandwich but decides that it would be polite to wait for Jim to join him first, instead watching him by the fridge as he fetches his beer and listening intently to his explanation of the shamans. Huh, he hadn't known that part. Figures he should have stumbled upon all of this, while he's still so new to the lot of this.

"I need to know where that labyrinth is," Ianto replies. "And what kind of experiments they were doing there." He winces slightly. "Intelligence from the bandits says they're taking the Heart there, and from what they've said..." He shakes his head. "It doesn't sound good. Anything you know -- it'll help, Jim. It's not just the mission that's at stake anymore."

[willrevile]

"Oh." Jim blinks. That's a little weird, if they're taking it to a known location. He sits down at the table, pries the top off his beer. "It's up at their altar on the mountain. Pretty easily accessible, honestly, though I think it's been relatively untended since it came out that so many of them are terrorists. Only a few who were supposedly not involved are left, most have fled, or were killed in the rescue operations."

He opens the container and motions for Ianto take what he likes first. "I don't know why they'd steal something and go put it there. Hell, I don't know why they'd even bother engaging in this sort of shit anymore when even the people here want all their heads on spikes Who all has the intel about where they're headed with the heart?"

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto reaches for one of the sandwiches at random as he puzzles out the other man's answer.

"I'm not sure whether it's the shamans themselves, or people who are looking to use their abilities," Ianto answers. "But so far it's just us, I think. Those of us in the group carrying the Heart, I mean. I don't know that we've made any sort of an announcement yet, anyway, I think we're all still... Processing."

He plays with the sandwich but doesn't take a bite yet. He doesn't want to admit to the rest of it, but he knows that he should, given how heavy the information is. He'd wanted this visit to be -- well, more than this. What's wrong with him that he does this, turns the moments between them so sour.

"They're going to try and resurrect the dragon," he says. "At least, that's the idea. And they've got the Heart now, so..."

[willrevile]

Jim listens, and for a while he just looks at him.

"You should immediately report that to anyone you know in the Guard, or the Knightryders," he says, extremely seriously. It's far from a rebuke, but given what he's seen, he can't take this lightly - he doesn't blame Ianto for not knowing, he wasn't here, and things have been peaceful since his arrival. "I don't know if it's possible, but if they think it is, there's reason to believe they're right. The Altar is accessible from Wyver and should be checked out sooner rather than later."

He's pretty tired, but not tired enough to blow this off. 'Processing' is a luxury he doesn't think he's ever had, even before Starfleet.

[torchwoodteaboy]

"There were members of the Guard there with us," Ianto points out, unable to help but feel at least a little as though he's being chastised for the way it's being handled so far. "I can't speak for their decisions -- whether or not they've informed the rest of the Guard or the Knightryders. I can only say that this is a pretty shit situation that I still really only know half the story about, but I've been doing my best."

Sitting back in the chair, he runs a hand through his hair, wincing as he hits the tender spot on his temple just beyond his hairline where there's a pretty substantial egg developing, a small cut just above it marking it's place. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm just. We're trying, yeah?" He's just so tired. It's been a really long day.

[willrevile]

Jim seems to catch himself in the middle of Ianto speaking, and his expression flickers into something of an apologetic wince. "You're right-- look, sorry, I have a hard time turning off 'Captain Kirk' sometimes."

Which is an understatement; Jim's not entirely sure who he is, if anyone, without being a Starfleet officer. (Before that he was a complete disaster, a victim before that, someone he's left behind. Someone who literally died. He won't go back, and he was happy to just be this officer until the time he kicks it for real. What now?)

"I'm - are you injured?" IANTO. Lineface. Jim gets up so he can lean over and get a closer look at his head.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Oh no, is he bleeding again? Ianto raises a hand to gently touch the area where the cut would be, but when his hand comes away it’s clean. It must have been something on his face then.

“I, ehm,” Ianto hedges, glancing down at his hand, because now it’s obvious what he’s just done, and then back up at Jim again. “It was a long fight. I wasn’t as careful as I should have been towards the end and...” He gestures towards his temple, where the egg is forming.

“It’s. Fine though. I’m alright, I’ve just been tossed around a bit and it’s. Only just a headache,” he tries to reassure the other man. “I’ve had worse.” He’s been concussed before and he’s pretty sure he isn’t. Like, 90% sure anyway.

[willrevile]

"I wasn't kidding about the ring I gave you having a protective spell in it," Jim reminds him, doing his version of fussing, which is to reach out to hold Ianto's face still so he can look at it. Hi. Personal space, it was nice having you for a moment. Anyway, he lets him go and stands up, heading to the fridge to fuss around in the freezer for an ice pack.

"I'm gonna tape this to your head," he informs him, "and you're gonna tell me what all went on. It'll be fun, like gossiping. Right?"

Right, Jim. A beat. "And no more beer."

He comes back over and plops the ice back (somewhat gently) on the top of his head. No tape, that was perhaps a dramatic threat and not true. Half to himself: "Man, if me trying to medic somebody doesn't wake Bones up.."

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto doesn't mind the fussing so much. Two attractive men holding his face and fussing over him in one evening -- maybe he should get himself beaten up more often. (No, he really shouldn't, he gets himself hurt enough as it is.) At the mention of the ring he at least has the courtesy to give the other man a sheepish look, because he, well. Had forgotten it was an option, really.

He raises an eyebrow at the mention of waking up any bones, but makes no comment, understanding that Jim had been speaking more to himself than not. No protest that he's taking away his drink either, even if he regrets it in turn. He reaches up a hand to hold the ice pack in place, thinking back to try and put the pieces back in place in the best way he can. "They were ready for us," he says. "On the road near the South Outpost. It was an ambush, really. They knew we were coming, and they were. Organized. And they kept us preoccupied with defending ourselves from the attack while their leader made off with the Heart."

[willrevile]

People who want alcohol should avoid head injuries, Mr Jones.

Jim sits back down and gets his phone out, opening up a textpad app to take notes in what is clearly his world's military shorthand. He's got a killer memory, but it's still good to have a record while he's doing the planet's most informal debriefing. This is more Spock's habit than his own, but without Spock here, Jim's picking up the slack.

"Some ended up captured after the leader escaped?"