nysalogs | [ FINISHED/CLOSED ]

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."

"Well I hope so. The real question is, which one of us gets to be Peter Pan? Since I'm guessing you're not up for being Wendy."

Though, in his heart, John is pretty sure Ianto is Wendy in this situation -- and John is dragging him into increasingly foolish plans. He leans into Ianto a little more, lowering his voice to a playful whisper.

"You'd look good in a blue dress, though. Just saying."

It would bring out the blue in his eyes.

"Would I, now..." Ianto's eyes trail down from the canopy above them to study John beside him. Study him as thoughtfully as he can, given as much as the fyrra as there is muddling his thoughts. This is a question that deserves careful consideration, after all. Which one of them is Peter?

In the end, there's really no question at all. John really does know how to fly, never mind the fact that he needs a machine to accomplish it. But more than that, he can do magic. Ianto's seen it. And truth be told, no matter what the other man's hangups are on the matter, he thinks it's wonderful. He's wonderful. And he knows he doesn't see it in himself. That's what makes him such a good man. A good roommate. And a good friend.

"Never grow up, John," he concludes. As though the statement makes any sort of sense, out of the context of the conversation he's been having with himself.

John smiles at that, broad and playful, because it's an easy reference to place even without Ianto's internal dialogue.

"Well then it's a good thing you're coming to Neverland with me," he says, "so we can both stay young forever."

He grabs Ianto and turns him in a quick twirl, as if they're dancing -- or perhaps flying? Either way he stumbles a half step at the end and laughs, an obnoxious, low, dirty old man chuckle. Ianto is coming with him to Neverland and John wouldn't have it any other way, because Neverland is boring without friends to hang out with.

Ianto allows himself to be spun, stumbling along with him as he does and laughing, harder when John laughs because the sound of it is contagious. He tightens his arm around John again, the other coming to help catch himself before he finds himself spinning off into the mushrooms beyond, fingers hooking in John's tactical vest as he does.

"Good thing," he says, leaning in close, a broad smile across his face, breathless from the laughing and the spinning and the other man's happiness. "Just don't you dare drop me in these mushrooms," he warns, as if John's arm around his waist is the only thing keeping him upright. In a way he supposes it is. "Then you really will be carrying me the rest of the way there."

"Alright, alright, no mushrooms."

He lets out a last huff of laughter then steers Ianto onward -- leading him around and between mushrooms again.

"C'mon, Wendy, let's go on an adventure."

An adventure to Khalo, at least. He works his way deeper into the forest, picking a meandering path between the mushrooms. The gentle glow of them in the lower light under the forest canopy is fascinating and unsettling both, leaving John uncertain what to expect. Are there dangerous creatures, here? What kind of creatures do you even get in a mushroom forest?

"If you're Wendy," he says after a long moment of deep contemplation, "I guess I really do have to protect you from jealous fairies."

John's arm is warm and solid around him and honestly pretty nice. Ianto likes the feeling of being wrapped up like this. He likes the fact that it's John. John makes him feel safe. No matter what he thinks, for as long as he's known him he's always been there for him. It's more than he can say for a lot of people in his life, really.

He's starting to feel kind of... Floaty. Like maybe if John weren't holding on he really would fly away. Or maybe without the contact grounding him he'd simply leave his body and just. Stop, for a little while. Maybe that would be nice too. But then he'd be leaving John alone and that wouldn't be very fair for him. So no floating away. Not yet.

It takes him a moment to process what John had said, come back into himself enough to use his brain. "Jealous?" he asks, frowning. Jealous of what? "Of me?"

"Yeah!" John continues, as if this logic is obvious. "Because you're my Wendy!"

Wendy is important. Wendy loves Peter even though he's too immature and selfish and cocky to understand that and love her back. The thought sinks in, slowly, and John absently wonders on how many levels Ianto really is his Wendy. How many times Ianto will pick him up when he makes a mess and hurts himself. It's probably not good, he theorises, to sympathise with Peter Pan of all characters. Especially when Peter Pan kidnaps children. In fact, if Peter Pan never grows up but is still alive when Wendy has children... how old is Peter Pan? It's probably still creepy, right?

All of a sudden, the Neverland concept is a lot more complicated than at first glance. Huh.

Ianto tries to follow along, but he already knew that he was Wendy in this analogy so the clarification hardly helps. Why were the fairies jealous of Wendy? Because of Peter, somehow. Because Peter could only direct his attention in so many directions at a time, and when you were the object of that affection, you felt like nothing else mattered in the whole wide world. And when he moved on you would give anything have him back. Maybe it's something like that. Ianto almost can understand how they feel, in a way. But he isn't Tinkerbell, he's Wendy. And Jack left him, and it's been months now without a word and now he's on a different planet and maybe he found his own Peter to carry him off to the stars in a way that Ianto never could.

John is a better Peter in this analogy anyway, Ianto concludes. And leaves that train of thought at that.

"Are you threatening to duel with fairies in my honor."

He's still dwelling over if Peter Pan is creepy, so it takes a moment for John to process the question. Duel fairies? For Ianto's honour? Why would he -- oh, because he's... Wendy? Right. Yet at the same time, that doesn't make sense. Ianto was his Wendy even before he was Wendy. Ianto his important. Doesn't he know that? Maybe he doesn't. John turns a frown on him and slows to a stop, rests his hands on the man's upper arms and runs them down toward his hands slowly. He's momentarily distracted by Ianto's hands, which he realises he's never paid attention to before, but then his eyes track up again and study him with focused intensity.

"I'd do anything for you," he assures him, "even before you were Wendy."

Just in case the Wendy situation needed clarifying. It seemed important, on some level he cannot fully explain.

Ianto doesn't know why they're stopping at first, but he slows anyway. John reaching for his hands and he looks down at their hands as well, because something about them seems to be fascinating, though it escapes him exactly what. He squeezes slightly in return, because it seems like the right thing to do, before he glances back up at him.

Oh, he thinks to himself, as he stares into John's eyes and his stomach does a funny little flip in turn. John's hands are very warm in his, and the look in his eyes is very intense, and Ianto thinks that he might just actually believe him, in truth. John has never let him down before, after all.

Is he making a stupid face? He's probably making a stupid face. He makes sure that he closes his mouth as he tries to piece together some form of response to make in return. In the end the words are out before he's thought them through, his fingers tightening hard on John's as his eyes widen a fraction, as though he's surprising even himself.

"Then don't leave me."

Because Ianto may be very contentedly stoned within an inch of his life, but even still. On a deep, subconscious level, John has him worried.

John's face scrunches up in confusion, because why would he leave him? They're going to Khalo together, right? Unless something changed?

"No," he confirms, "I'm not going anywhere."

Other than Khalo, together. Right? That's what they're talking about, right?

"C'mon," he manages, and tugs at one of Ianto's hands -- tries to pull him closer again so he can swing an arm back around his shoulders and continue on through the forest.

The forest is deep, and the foliage gets thicker and rougher, but John is just about aware enough of his surroundings to tread carefully. Every so often he sees something he thinks he should be concerned about, some enormous plant half digesting some strange creature, but he can't really focus on it. His body feels heavy and yet light, like he might just drop to the ground in exhaustion or somehow lose all gravity. His weight sways into Ianto every so often, and he mumbles things: Ianto has very blue eyes, the moons are so close, did he tell Ianto that New Lantea had five moons? The forest is so colourful, nature is amazing. Isn't it strange how similar so many planets are? They're the same, yet they're not. Like fingerprints. Fingers look the same, but they're not. Ianto's fingers are different. He holds an intense, several minute session scrutinising Ianto's fingers before stumbling onward -- then the forest thins out again and finally they're in Khalo village.

It's beautiful, but John is barely awake by now. The tree guardians mesmerise him, the buildings, the water and the Khali flitting around. It's all so ethereal, so awe inducing that he just gapes for a long moment before wobbling onward into the village with Ianto.

Edited 2018-06-13 21:25 (UTC)

Ianto stumbles along with John through the fungi forest (fungest, he can't help but thinking to himself here and there), observing the scenery and doing more listening than talking, in all honesty. He's content to listen though. John says a lot of interesting things. Five moons on New Lantea, that's right. He remembers something about a telescope, but the details are fuzzy. Ianto looks up at the sky and tries to imagine it. Five moons. Even just the two is fascinating.

Speaking of fascinating, John seems to be pretty fascinated with his eyes, and his hands. Ianto doesn't mind that either, really. He likes looking at John, holding hands with John. And he likes John's hands. He endures the several minutes' study of his fingers John puts him through, pointing out the differences in John's as well, before he curls his fingers in the other man's and the pair of them set forward again.

The village itself is beyond words, though Ianto doesn't really have the capacity to process it in full. They've built everything in the trees. The tree guardians are frankly more than a little intimidating but also amazing. All of it is amazing, even despite the fact that he feels a little ill making the way up to the mid-level of the trees where the guest accommodations are. He has just enough common sense left in him to be able to negotiate a room for himself and John, the other man obviously flagging and Ianto starting to feel warm and floaty again as he pulls some of the money he’s saved out of his bag to settle the pay. He even manages not to call any of the Khali fairies to their faces as he and John are shown to their room.

Tinkerbell, he thinks to himself, as he watches her — her? — fly away before turning back to dump his bag on the floor and finally, finally strip off his shoes and overshirt. There’s a sound behind him as John collapses onto the bed, having done much the same with his shoes and tactical vest himself and Ianto stands back, taking one look at him before deciding that he looks comfortable and that separate beds is lonely, and John makes him feel safe and wanted. Crossing the room, he drops to curl up beside the other man, who makes vague noises about how hot it is but throws an arm around him in return, curling against Ianto’s back and sticking to him like a limpet. And Ianto holds onto that arm around him as though it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. As though his touch is the only thing keeping John there as well, which is perhaps the most important part, as he slowly dozes off, feeling the other man’s breathing slow and heavy at his back as he does the same.

Edited (ianto jones never forgets) 2018-06-14 11:32 (UTC)

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