nysalogs | [ FINISHED/CLOSED ]

"A sister," he replies, because there's no point in asking questions he's not willing to answer in return. "Rhiannon. She's... Four years older than me. Married, two kids. David and Mica." He shrugs slightly. "I see them on holidays sometimes, but you know. Torchwood didn't really give us days off." He wasn't sure he would have wanted to take them if they did.

He doesn't need to say that they're all he has left, now. But they are. And he's a pretty shitty family member himself, when it comes down to it. It's not like he's off on some mission in the stars, he's just in Cardiff. But it's his job, yes, and everything he's seen, and everything he can't talk about. He's always found it easier to just stay away.

"Yeah," John allows, because he knows how that feels. He didn't exactly get much in the way of days off either. He pulls the gently glowing alien tablet from one of his pockets, checks it again to make sure no shamans are sneaking up on them. It resolutely shows him two dots, surrounded by darkness.

There aren't going to be any days off here, either. No holidays to see your family. Is Dave in the pods? John realises with a jolt he never asked for him to be saved, so he doesn't know if he is. Or how he feels about that. Did Ianto ask for Rhiannon and her children to be saved?

"I can take the first watch," he says finally, "if you want to get some sleep."

Ianto can tell when John has deemed a conversation to be over, and that is decidedly a sign. He hums softly, deciding that it'd be better to save the rest of the food he's been picking at for if and when they might actually need it, and setting it aside.

"Yeah, alright. But wake me up, yeah?" He glances up at the other man, frowning at him slightly as he does, trying to get a good idea of how he's doing and coming up short. "You're going to need to get some sleep too. I can take second shift." He pats the pocket of his bag. "Should anything go awry, you may rest well and remember I'm armed and dangerous."

"Sure," John says, in an airy sort of way that commits to nothing. He needs to teach Ianto some unarmed self-defence, really. He needs to get both of them proper guns.

The night passes quietly, and once Ianto has been asleep seven or so hours John finally nudges him awake so he can sleep a couple. It's not exactly an even split, but Ianto needs the sleep more than he does. He passes Ianto his scanner, tells him to try and keep it shielded so the glow doesn't draw any attention and to wake him if anything shows up on it.

Not that John is a heavy sleeper. He wraps himself up and drifts for a few hours, blinking awake at one point as a light shower of rain hits the leaves woven into the shelter, then again properly as the light begins to fade up. Not that the lack of sleep seems to have done him much harm, he's up quickly and stretching himself out -- checking through his pack and squinting at the sky to judge the weather. It's better if they get going before the midday sun really heats up everything, since they'll probably have to stop at that point so Ianto doesn't collapse.

It's not an even split, which Ianto does grumble about, but there's not much he can do about it after the fact. He huddles with his cloak tucked about his shoulders for the hours that John dozes, oscillating between staring at the pair of dots on the screen before him, staring out into the darkness ahead, and glancing back at John where he's curled himself up nearby.

He helps John deconstruct their little shelter with the uncomfortable knowledge that they're going to have to prepare for another day of walking in the sun. His feet and legs already protesting from the journey thus far as it is. Again, stripping to the waist he resigns himself to the help of being lathered in sunscreen for the start of the day.

And thus starts their journey once more. Ianto can't say that he's a terrible traveling companion. But he's hardly the best either, and he knows it. He really isn't good with this sort of weather, it's a lot of walking, he's the one who slept the most but he can feel himself dragging them down as John keeps politely accommodating for him. Stopping to make sure that he's drinking enough water, maybe have a piece of dried fruit, keeping up with the sunscreen when all Ianto wants to do is get out of this place as fast as they can.

It's about at the point when they see the forest approaching in the distance that Ianto realizes what this means. They've talked about it a little more on the walk -- they've had a lot of time to talk after all. But it isn't until he's standing nearly face to face with the forest itself, his head fuzzy already from the heat, his body aching all over from a day and a half's walk to get there, that he realizes this could go one of two ways. Maybe it really is just like a little bit of weed. Maybe there really is nothing to worry about. Or maybe he's about to walk into a nightmare forest hopped up on hallucinogenics. There's really only one way to find out...

He forces himself to take a breath as they get closer, letting it out slowly in the attempt to relax. He's feeling wound up, from the journey, from the uncertainty of what's ahead, from his own incompetence in this situation, and from his continued close proximity to the other man and John's own handling of the situation in turn. "Surrounded by swampland with an ominous jungle looming before us. Clearly the logical next step on this threshold is to stop and roll a spliff. Really helps a man appreciate the beauty of nature as he stumbles off the path to his doom." Okay, maybe his attempts to relax aren't going so well after all.

"Might do your nerves some good."

John slows his pace, shrugs his bag off his shoulder as they walk and begins to dig.

"So, Mr Jones, can I interest you in getting high with me and developing a deeper understanding of nature?"

Or, at the very least, walking through the mysterious fungi forest until they find Khalo village. He pulls out some supplies since, yes, this really is the next logical step Ianto and unfortunately he did pick up some fyrra for this purpose so there's no backing out. John drops his bag and pushes his sunglasses into his hair, alternating between shoving things vaguely under his tactical vest to free up a hand shooting the forest ahead a suspicious frown. There's a slight shimmery haze he can see around it, and it makes him just a little uneasy.

Ianto can hardly argue with that. He squints suspiciously at the forest in front of them, overall not feeling too keen on crossing that shimmering threshold himself, before glancing back at John. Watching him as he works on rolling out the fyrra and wondering if maybe he shouldn't offer to help. If that wouldn't shatter another conception of himself that the other man might have.

"I thought you'd never ask," Ianto quips in return, unable to help a witty reply even now. He hooks his fingers in the straps of his bag, rocking on his feet anxiously. Wondering if John had somehow procured them some matches as well or how he was expecting to be able to light this up. "We should only need the one. Unless you've got anything against sharing." He raises an eyebrow.

"Not especially, they didn't really say how much we needed to smoke."

Smoking to specifically dodge a sleep inducing haze isn't something John has a lot of experience with. He makes a vague attempt to pack the fyrra as evenly as he can, frowning in concentration.

"I would recommend we wait outside for a few minutes just to make sure this isn't secretly going to make either of us vomit or develop weird rashes.

You know, before they wander aimlessly into a mystery hazy forest right after smoking it and possibly become lost.

He glances aside at the other man in vague alarm at the suggestion of a bad reaction to the herb. Have there been reports of those sorts of things? Never mind, he isn't certain that he wants to know. Especially not just before he's gathered up the courage to experiment with alien substances.

"I expect we will find out one way or another," he replies. The sooner they get this over with the sooner they can get on their way. Speaking of which. Not that he doesn't appreciate the care in which John is taking with his work but he's taking way too much time doing something Ianto himself could have had done by now (though maybe that's just his nerves talking). He fidgets at the other man's side for a moment before holding his hand out toward the other man, unable to just stand by and watch any longer.

"Look, just. Give it here." Delicately plucking the work out of the other man's fingers before he has a chance to say otherwise, he makes sure there's enough of the herb in the paper before rolling it between his fingers. It's the nervous energy, he'll vibrate out of his skin before too much longer. At least he can do this -- even if it is only rolling a joint, he thinks a little bitterly to himself, as he hands it back to the other man. "Have you got a light or are we going to be sat here while you rub two sticks together for fire as well?"

His eyebrows shoot up as Ianto grabs it from him, then John pulls out a book of matches (branded from Shades Darker, these are work matches) and holds them out.

"Here you go," he says lightly, because clearly Ianto is in a hurry and John doesn't feel like picking apart why. "Knock yourself out."

John busies himself scanning the area for any signs of life while Ianto rolls for them, hauling his bag back onto his back and trying to think ahead. If it does give them some weird reaction, might there be another way? Should he be prepared to just wrap Ianto in a blanket and calm him down if he begins to go off the rails? For that matter, should he wait a little to see how he behaves before smoking any himself?

Ianto doesn't mean to just be grabbing things out of John's hands. It's just a culmination of things, he's crawling out of his skin, anxious, uncomfortable, and way too in his own head, and honestly if there is a chance that this will help him calm down then he's all for it.

He does at least mutter a word of thanks as he takes the book of matches from the other man, lighting one to light the little roller up. "Here goes nothing then," Ianto says, glancing to the other man a little anxiously, because he's well aware that this is uncharted waters and probably a terrible idea, before he puts it to his lips and inhales, letting the breath out in a slow cloud of smoke.

It tastes... Pretty much how one might expect, having seen what it was before it was rolled up. Ianto brings the little roller to his lips again, inhaling again because it's pretty much go big or go home at this point, and tries to get a handle on how he's feeling. If it's making him feel anything. He thinks there might be something there. Maybe he should just keep smoking it to find out.

Is... Ianto just going to smoke the whole thing? He's definitely going for it. John watches him with a bemused look, feeling as if he's waiting for something to happen.

"Feel like sharing your experience with the class?" he prompts. He's not instantly choking and falling over, which is a good sign. He's also more comfortable with this than John would have expected, but maybe this all comes under lock-picking territory.

Can he blow smoke rings, John wonders idly. Maybe he can teach him how if not.

Ianto lets out a shaky, smoky breath before he holds it out to John as well. "Sorry, sorry," he apologizes. "It's... Well, I've obviously not started breathing fire yet or anything, which is a good sign. Here."

He reaches up and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. He has a sense he's going to need another few puffs of the fyrra before he really starts to feel it, but it's already more. Comfortable. He's already feeling more comfortable than he had been before.

"It's not bad," he concludes, making a face as he watches John himself.

"I was more worried you'd start to freak out and I'd be bundling you up in a blanket until you calmed down."

Which, so far so good. He watches Ianto for a long few seconds before giving in. Sure, he could wait and that would be sensible but the 'sensible approach' road has long run out of tarmac for him. He's way off the beaten path by now, building his own bumpy road to some completely inadvisable location. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

He blows out a slow cloud of smoke, frowning as he tries to decide how he feels about it before holding the joint back to Ianto. Who clearly is still more in need of it than him.

Ianto takes the joint back from the other man, taking a few more pulls on it before passing it back. At that point... He's feeling pretty good, in all honesty. And as a matter of fact, he does know how to blow smoke rings, which he demonstrates after they pass the joint back and forth a few more times. Though it does take him several times to get it right. Yeah, that's right. He may not be able to build a shelter to keep out the rain but he's great for party tricks.

By the time the joint has burned itself out, Ianto feels a lot lighter than he has in the last few days. At least, as far as his nerves are concerned. Physically, his body feels pleasantly heavy, and it's just as well that they're on a mission because he'd honestly just like a nap at this point. It's just as well that the fyrra is taking care of his anxiety for him, as John places an arm protectively around his shoulders and leads him through the shimmering barrier into the forest itself.

The further they walk, the more everything seems to. Glow? Ianto's not sure whether that's his eyes or whether it's something in the distance and he leans sideways to stage whisper about it conspiratorially to John, who still has his arm around his shoulders. That's alright, it's a nice arm. John's a nice man. He's been very good to him over the past few days, even if it has been a little weird. That's not really his fault either. And he's doing a good job of keeping Ianto on his feet. Which is harder than it sounds. Maybe he should have shared more of that joint than he did.

After not too long walking there stands before them what appears to be... A line of mushrooms? Ianto squints at it, leaning into John again, bracing a hand on his chest to keep himself steady as he says, "It's just the fyrra to get into the village, right? I dunno about you but I really like to draw the line at one potential hallucinogenic at a time, thanks."

John has his arm around Ianto because, his brain says, Ianto is unsteady and high and he needs to stop him falling over. The fact that he also is both of those things doesn't really factor in. He's responsible for Ianto, obviously, and that includes bringing him here and making sure they stick together. Don't get lost. Don't fall over.

Having his arm around him is a logical solution to all these things.

The fact that Ianto is pleasantly warm and steady helps, and John finds the vague mumble of his voice a soothing background noise that he's not really focusing on.

"Yeah," he says absently, then realises he's answering a question and should focus on what the question was. His brain catches up -- mushrooms, right. There's a rule about mushrooms, he thinks? What's the rule? "No," he says, because that's probably the right answer, and he takes a step back now that he can see them -- which means Ianto, who is now leaning into his chest, stumbles back with him. His other arm vaguely comes out around him to stop him falling over, and he frowns down at Ianto. "No mushrooms," he says firmly, just in case his muddled answer had been unclear. Ianto looks different and he finds himself unable to place why, and momentarily confused by it. Does fyrra make you look different if you smoke it? Does he look different? Were Ianto's eyes always this blue? He has no idea.

Speaking of Ianto's very blue eyes, they widen for a moment as he falls off balance, moving to catch himself against the other man as John pulls him closer in turn. Studying the other man's face as he studies him back. John looks puzzled and Ianto hasn't the faintest idea why. He pats a hand where it rests on the other man's chest, as if this will help in some way, tilting his head to the side and cracking a smile at him in turn.

“Steady on,” he urges him gently. “No mushrooms then. Not to eat anyway. Probably shouldn’t be rolling in then either. Best stay upright from this point out.” He smooths his hand in place again before stepping forward to sneak it around the other man’s waist, turning back to the mushrooms as he does.

“Right. Mushrooms. Big old forest of fungi. Fungle?” He swings his head up to rest on John’s shoulder, because it’s easier to look at him from this angle if he does. You know. Fungi jungle? Follow along, John. Isn’t he hilarious?

"Fungle," John repeats, and slips his arm back around Ianto in turn -- hooked around his waist since his head is now on his shoulder. He feels warm. John feels distantly concerned he might fall asleep on his feet if Ianto keeps attaching to his side. "We need to get through the fungle," he declares solemnly. "Which means you need to keep your feet under you."

He rests his cheek against Ianto's hair for a moment, absently rubbing at his side as he thinks. How much further is it? More importantly, how much will it be for a room? He may wipe out as soon as he gets there. He gave Ianto most of his money, too. Maybe they should just sleep in the fungle --

"Move," he says finally, and takes a deep breath as he straightens up and tries to encourage Ianto to move with him.

Ianto is distantly pleased his word has stuck. Not all of them do. Owen might have had something to say about fungles but Owen isn't here now is he. John is. And John is very warm and solid against him and honestly a little sweaty but Ianto doesn't mind so much, it's nice too. Very masculine. Ianto likes it, it's very... Him.

All too soon however the other man is coaxing him forward and he groans slightly in protest at the thought of more walking, even as he obeys the command. Stepping carefully forward over the mushroom ring and into the fungle -- yes, that's what it is now -- itself. He's trying to do his best to watch where he's walking but it's difficult when his coordination feels so off as a whole.

"What happens if I step on something?" he asks, because he keeps feeling dangerously close to doing exactly that. He tightens his arm around John's waist on principle.

"Well then I assume the fairies kidnap you," John assures Ianto. "But don't worry, I'll come rescue you."

He tugs Ianto along further into the forest, eyes skipping around the area curiously. It's all brightly coloured, covered in strange plants that John doesn't recognise at all. It's beautiful, in a haunting, menacing sort of way. This had always been something that fascinated him, though, when you walked through a place so distinctly alien, somewhere that reminds you how far you are from home. He slows a little and lets his eyes drag up a large tree, stares at the forest canopy for a long moment.

"Pretty cool," he murmurs finally. Everything feels so colourful, like someone took the whole place and ramped the saturation way up.

"Fairies," Ianto repeats, wishing John hadn't mentioned the creatures, his eyes darting around the area uncertainly. There can't be any fairies living here, can there? No, they're native to Earth, been there since the dawn of time, and with any luck they probably died with the planet too. Still, it has him thinking about more than he'd like and as John pauses them at the base of the tree he recalls a poem they'd dug up during that investigation, a piece of which he mumbles aloud.

"Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild,
With a faery, hand in hand..."

Glancing aside at the other man, he studies him for a long moment, cocking his head to the side as if it will help him concentrate (it doesn't).

"Better not let go of me, then," he concludes. "Just in case. No wandering off the path after the pretty lights. Next thing you know we'll be... Sinking in a bog or something, I don't know. Growing extra heads." The sky is the limit, okay.

"Sure you're not just looking for an excuse to hold hands?"

Even though John is holding him closer than that already, arm slipped around his waist as it is. It's hard to block out how close he is, and John is blearily uncertain of his own reasoning. It's a bad idea, he remembers, though it doesn't feel such a bad idea right now. Ianto's eyes are still very blue, and John thinks of McKay who also has blue eyes. It makes him pick up his walking again.

"Anyway," he assures him, "I'm much scarier than the fairies. I mean look at them, they built a place you get high to get to."

Not exactly hugely intimidating, in John's book.

Edited (spacing) 2018-06-11 23:44 (UTC)

Ianto shrugs in response to the question. He doesn't really need an excuse though, does he? John's certainly not asking him for one. Though on the scale of things, fairy abduction is a pretty good reason to be clingy as far as he's concerned.

Although, speaking of. He glances aside at John uncertainly as he tries to piece this together. Which is difficult, considering he's operating at limited capacity. Fairies. Built this place. What does he mean this place? What does he mean fairies?

"They... Fairies? ...Khalo?" This is a difficult concept to grasp, okay.

"Yeah," John says, as if this is a normal conversation. "I mean they call themselves Khali but they're little green... flying people."

So essentially fairies to John. He steers them around another suspicious looking mushroom, tightening his grip on Ianto for a moment as he makes a course adjustment. Don't fall over, keep walking. Simple rules really. Also don't follow the pretty lights, according to Ianto. He can keep that one in mind too.

Ianto narrows his eyes in concentration, walking even closer to the other man as he allows John to pilot him while he considers this. Little green flying people. Little green flying people who live in a mushroom forest, and the only way they'll let you in is if you get high first.

"This place is mad," he decides at last. Because while he could fuss over the little green fairy people they're supposedly off to visit, he really can't find the energy to do so. Mostly he wants to know why he's only just hearing about them now. Still, they're not fairies, not in the sense that he's used to. Khali, he has to remind himself of that. And they've got a whole village, and they've invited people in and everything.

"Right. So the bandits are hiding with the fairies. Here we are in a magical mushroom forest. Swamp. I'm starting to wonder whether we haven't stumbled into Neverland after all." He casts a glance up at the glowing canopy, swaying a little dangerously on his feet but luckily he's still got that arm around John, right? "Think they'll give us any pixie dust if we promise to behave? I've always wanted to know what it would be like to fly."

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