nysalogs | [ FINISHED/CLOSED ]

"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)

It's far too warm, but John sleeps anyway. He feels tired and a little spinny, and he can't really stay upright anymore. Ianto crowds him and that's too hot but he hasn't the energy to push him away, and besides which if Ianto is Wendy then he should stay close anyway in case the fairies get jealous. There some logic in there, somewhere.

He's not exactly sure how long he sleeps for, but when he wakes up he feels clammy and has a foggy, low level headache. Which is plausibly because when he was traipsing through the mushroom forest (fungi jungle? Fungle, his memory suggests?) he spent too long debating who was Peter Pan and not enough time drinking water. He shifts, and becomes vaguely aware of Ianto beside him. Ah, right. Wendy. Wincing slightly John eases off and flops over onto his back, rubbing at his eyes and forehead to try and lessen the ache a little. There's some water and painkillers in his bag, he knows. He packed them in case of Ianto's head still hurting. Maybe just water first, though, before breaking out the painkillers. Sitting up John rests a hand on Ianto's arm to get his attention, assuming he's probably some degree of awake already from the movement, then digs in his bag for the water he packed.

"Hey buddy," he says, in a soft voice that distinctly smacks of 'handling a potentially delicate person' tone. "How you feeling?"

Ianto's head had actually recovered from the knock he'd received, which is why he's confused that the aching is back when he wakes. He's confused about a lot of things, really. Why he's so warm, why he's so disoriented, why he feels like he's got a mouth full of cotton. And why there's someone in bed with him. He supposes that's why he's woken up, them moving around. Them being John, of course. He knows it the second the other man's hand comes to rest on his arm, even before he speaks. Though he's not sure whether that makes it better or worse.

Curling himself up tight, Ianto moves to throw his arms over his face and groans softly. Bits and pieces of their journey are coming back to him, and he's not sure he wants to process any of it just now. Waking up next to John makes ignoring it completely slightly difficult though.

"Yeah," John replies, "you're not wrong."

He feels like groaning too. Uncapping the bottle he takes a long pull of the water before re-capping it and leaning over Ianto to set it near his hands.

"Drink some of this," he encourages, since no doubt he feels somewhat the same. "You're probably as dehydrated as I feel."

Giving Ianto's arm a last reassuring squeeze he tugs his bag closer again, begins digging through for something simple to eat. There's a little bread left, at least, along with some crackers. Khalo probably has food shops but he doesn't... quite feel up to going outside their room just yet.

Ianto may want to crawl under a rock and hide but John's chatter does help. Reluctantly, he uncurls himself, reaching for the water bottle John set by him before moving to sit up and taking a few tentative sips. Glancing around the room and trying to re-orient himself as he does. They'd made it to Khalo, at least. And managed to find a room before they'd crashed, well done on their part. There are two beds in the room, though Ianto vaguely remembers preferring to stick close and the thought of it heats his cheeks a little. He takes another sip of water.

“What time is it?” he asks at last. His voice rough with sleep as he tries to take stock of himself and their situation. How long had it been since they collapsed into bed together? It’s difficult to tell, underneath the leafy shade of the canopy above them out the window. Everything is cool and dark and blissfully shady.

Good question. John glances down at his watch, then squints around them at the light levels.

"Eight PM, though I'm a little fuzzy on how we got here so I have no idea how long we slept. Or how we picked this room, for that matter. I'm hoping we paid for it."

He moves some bread and crackers to be within Ianto's reach, scanning the room again and tries to think of a neutral way to inch into discussions of what happened.

"Did I dream that this place has giant tree people?"

There we go, that's a safe topic.

Ianto lets out a huff of laughter in response to the other man's question, reaching forward to snag some of the crackers as he does.

"Unless you and I had the same dream, they were real," he answers. "Are real. I suppose they're still out there, somewhere." He makes something of a face at that thought. They're a bit terrifying to really think about, truth be told.

Taking another sip of the water to fortify himself, he continues to clarify, "Don't worry about the room. I took care of it. I'm not quite sure how long we have it for but I didn't pay that much so it's probably the next day or two." He shrugs slightly. "We can clear it up with them tomorrow. Oh."

If John doesn't remember how they got there then it's important to specify. "Unless you really can fly, be careful walking about out there. We're halfway up to the canopy -- it's a miracle we managed to get up here in the first place as it is."

"My dreams are normally a little less tame than this."

Nobody was in danger, nobody died, there wasn't even any sex. Overall, it would make for a disappointing dream in John's opinion. He reaches across to snag the bottle of water back from Ianto, frowns at the exit from the room in thought as he uncaps it and takes a sip.

"The Khali are basically fairies, right?" He squints sideways at Ianto, turning over the thought. "Think they can pixie dust us? So we can fly too, at least for a bit?"

He really, really hopes so -- in a quietly intense sort of way. John would dearly loved to have what he deems a much cooler superpower, a real superpower. ATA gene doesn't feel like a real superpower to him, even if it now seemingly works on other things.

Ianto vaguely recalls a similar conversation in the forest before, and a moment of spinning, John's arms around him and thinking that even if they couldn't, this might be the next best thing. He shoves a cracker in his mouth, chewing methodically before he offers anything in the way of a response.

"It's possible," he offers. "Maybe not pixie dust in the traditional sense, but. They might have something. We could ask around?" Or look. They hadn't had much of a chance to do that, when they first arrived, tired and disoriented as they were. "At least they have the vines set up, I suppose. God knows how they'd expect us to handle this otherwise."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject