❪ introlog: #6 ❫ city of secrets

[natha]

You've spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Now, the time to put all your survival training into practice has arrived: El Nysa needs you, and you're here to help the planet thrive. Are you ready? THE DESCENT     All refugees on the station are called to the hangar, where a large-scale teleporter awaits. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait; everyone will be sent down to the planet together. Before they depart, all refugees will be given a cold weather survival kit with warm clothing, rations, and bedding. The arrays build into a brilliant wash of light, creating a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa, teleporting the refugees to the planet on an aurora. Once on the planet's surface, refugees receive one last message from Darma. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet we must ask you to brave further peril. Within Nadril are the secrets to how poor Ysverai's revival was hidden from our sight and how this disaster has come to our star. Find the first refugee from beyond this planet, a man named Magda. He will not speak to us, for much has come between us, but to you… If you prove yourselves, he may be willing to answer your questions. We beseech you, for there is a veil over Nadril that hides all within from us. There may yet be more untold dangers waiting to befall this planet. For the good of all who make this world home, we ask you to lend us your aid. There is yet one more favor we would ask of you. In warding off the Storm's encroachment, the physical aspect of ourselves that you call Thesa Station was damaged. We must remain to continue repairs to El Nysa and to deal with Ysverai, but there should be suitable technology within Nadril that could be used for spare parts. If you have the chance to find it and can return it to us, it would hasten— Darma's message crackles with static, another image overlaying hers — her broadcast is cut off and replaced with another. A more sullen and alien voice takes Darma’s place, overlapping on itself in an ominous reveal. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet you’ve only just arrived here. To say I’m not disappointed in your… generation would be to lie, and I am nothing if not an honest creature. But I suppose these have been unusual circumstances. You must ask yourself this — are you only here as Darma's lapdogs? I can assure you, it's not worth being on the Natha's leash. With time, that will be something you'll have to learn for yourself. If you're so determined to come find Nadril, then follow the path north, and you'll find the border. What awaits you is revelation, if you're up to the challenge. A FROZEN LAND     The refugees land on a literally frozen world, both in temperature and time. Curls of icy wind hold swirls of snow aloft and an uncanny silence is broken only by the crunch of hoarfrost underfoot. Only Darma's protection allows the refugees to move through this frozen world — and movement is very necessary. Bitter cold sneaks through even the thickest clothing and without warning, a snowstorm rises: unnaturally quickly, a wall of white howls directly in the refugee's path. Bizarrely, the way back is perfectly calm; it's obvious that this storm is no product of nature. Magda's challenge becomes clear: the only way to Nadril lies through this storm. Visibility within the storm is near zero, the whiteout hiding any landmarks from view and making navigation near impossible. The only guidance refugees have is a sporadic path of faint, greenish lights, easily lost in the raging storm. Refugees need all the survival skills they practiced on Thesa Station to survive, for getting lost alone is a death sentence. Luckily, those separated from the group can happen upon guiding lights Magda has planted throughout the tundra. These blue-white sparks cause frostbite if handled recklessly, but they also serve as directional anchors, turning into ghostly flames that lead lost souls back to the path to Nadril. The trek through the storm will be no mean feat and will last for the better part of three days. By the time the refugees reach Nadril's gate, most will find themselves exhausted and running on fumes. As the snowstorm dies away and a gap in the glittering forcefield around the city opens to usher the refugees inside, it's clear that Nadril is a different beast. A WARM(?) WELCOME     I. Despite the unforgiving journey, entering Nadril is painless. Once inside, characters will be greeted by their predecessors: the original refugees who made this advanced city. They'll immediately be offered medical attention, as well as warm cider and blankets. But it's obvious that the Nadril citizens prefer higher tech to fend off the weather: they also offer wristlets and ear cuffs that that double as mittens and earmuffs by creating warm bubbles of air. The earrings also feature a few quality of life programs, such as timed alarms and thought-to-speech messaging. However, both programs are in beta stages so it's not unusual for a stray thought to accidentally slip through or an alarm to accidentally ring at an inopportune time. II. Refugees are offered free lodging in a large, crystalline building crafted from ice. Despite the coarse building material, the ice is unmelting and surprisingly well-insulated, and the beds are as warm and cozy. The rooms are, however, small. The sleeping quarters house two people, and are some cross between an igloo and a capsule hotel. Though built for efficiency over comfort, all rooms are also outfitted with the latest Nadril AI, RoboAlfred, or Ralf for short. This helpful program is installed in practically all the furnishings: the closet tells guests to bundle up, the bathroom sink reminds them to brush their teeth, and the mirror offers helpful fashion tips. Ralf's personality matrix still needs polish, though: it may very well insult your clothes and passively-aggressively question your lifestyle choices for the entire stay. III. Though not as advanced as Thesa Station, the colony has technology far beyond the rest of the continent, such as rudimentary AIs and mechanical transportation. Nadril's skyline is a point of pride — refugees can take a (literal) lightrail that gives an aerial view of the colony, which is hewn almost entirely from ice and rock. Despite its tech, Nadril is much more sparsely populated than Olympia and Wyver, and its residents stay near a central hub: a Natha refugee drop ship, Central, which has crashed and long embedded itself into the earth. Central is similar to an older, smaller, grounded model of Thesa Station, in functional order with round-the-clock solar power. Within Central are lounges similar to ones on the Station, though many of the damaged areas have been converted. They include repair stations, different wings dedicated to science, botany, astrology, and mechanics, and a research and history facility, which has a smattering of technology from planets beyond El Nysa — including your own. The staff here don't mind if anything is sampled and studied, but objects cannot be taken from the labs. IV. On the outskirts of the central hub, many will find several curious looking bots with insect-like wings perched about high traffic walkways. Simply passing the bots will cause a dizzying flash before a series of photos print out. Upon closer inspection, people will find that these images reflect stills taken from their home worlds as they remember it. Unfortunately, these photos only last a couple of hours at best. At that time, they will revert back to regular pictures of the refugees. People will be encouraged to share these images of their worlds. The residents of Nadril comprehend the value of remembering one's origins, and will be pleased to see that people still hold memories of old homes close to them. RECREATION IN NADRIL     I. Small, mechanical creatures scampering through the city are a common sight. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you that they come from a shop called Paws About Town. They’re very useful, as companions, gophers, and couriers (though the more mischievous will note that they’re just small enough to keep tabs on people without being noticed). Premade robotic pets are available on display inside the shop. They come in all shapes, but small sizes; one may be able to find robots that even look like miniature creatures from their homeworld. These are a part of a new, highly customizable line with programmable personalities. Customers have the chance to take pets for a one-day trial run. Those who don’t know how to program may want to enlist more knowledgeable aid, but the pets come with instructional pamphlets for basic personality traits such as obedience, helpfulness, playfulness, and bloodthirst. For returns, the switch to wipe the robot's personality to a blank slate is on the back of its neck, right between a switch to invert all traits, and a switch to have them learn by observing. Try not to press the wrong switch — you might wind up with a pet with a mind of its own! II. A. The Frosty Tap Cantina is a thriving hub of activity, but one of the major draws is the self-service bar: molecular mixology is wildly popular here. Playing with drink compositions can be a game in and of itself, and newcomers to the cantina will find that the bartender — a cheerful woman with lilac skin and three eyes — is always happy to give them a few tips on how to use the wide array of tools within reach of the barstools. All manner of drinks are possible — from glowing, layered cocktails, to clear drinks with colored, spherical bubbles and vividly-colored shots that give off their own smoke. There's a nightly contest in the cantina for the most creative drink created by a team — this may be as good a time as any to partner up with someone and see what can you come up with. Winner gets all their drinks for the night free! And, hey, even if you don't win, you get to drink whatever you make. The well-lubricated patrons of the bar are eager to challenge anyone nearby to a different sort of drinking game… Just how well can you hold your liquor? B. Holo-screens in the cantina are nearly always broadcasting some match or another of a game that looks very much like hockey, albeit played with sticks that light up and a puck that changes shape from time to time. Colonists here merely refer to the game as "the sport," and one of their favored pastimes is betting. However, they don't use currency — they wager dares. Nadril colonists are a tough, weathered lot, and they prefer to speak with actions over silver. Colonists will urge the refugees to take part as well. Common dares range from the ridiculous (lead a sing-a-long, attempt to make someone with a poker face smile) to the suggestive (kiss the person in the cantina you find most attractive, strip off a piece of clothing), to the outright reckless (venture out into the snow for a certain amount of time, and no one will judge if you find some company to keep warm). The colonists are unfazed by even the most insane or tawdry of dares — but you'll certainly be called a killjoy for refusing too often! Why not grab a friend and give it a whirl, or challenge a rival to a dare yourself? THE MISSION     I. On the outskirts of Nadril is the communications tower of the old refugees. This is where Magda resides, monitoring Nadril's technological protections, the extent of the Natha’s influence, and running his own personal projects for El Nysa’s technological advancement. It is isolated, filled with research labs and relics of the past refugees who have come to El Nysa — a living mausoleum of worlds swallowed up by the Storm whose peoples have refused to forget where they came from. Crew photos line the walls of the tower: pictures of alien families and friends, the refugees who came to Nadril before you. Each group of photos gradually becomes smaller in number, and the most recent of the pictures are from half a century ago. Magda's picture can be found among the first group of refugees, an unusually small cluster of photos dating back centuries in El Nysa's past. I have been on this planet for nearly two centuries. Life has come, evolved, and collided in an ever expanding culture. But Darma fears interference, and made this place a prison, with she our warden, stifling the growth of the creatures native to this world rather than encouraging them to flourish. She sent you here for answers in her stead because she knows I'll spurn her, and after seeing what that fool Raysc has wrought, I'll give you them — not for Darma's sake, but because I trust after all the Natha have done to you, you'll understand my decision. Mistakes were made, and I won't hide them. You've made it here so there's some mettle to you, and unlike the Orbiters, I'm not interested in hiding the secrets of the dangers we face. I gave Raysc what he needed to keep his actions hidden from Darma's eyes — what he needed to advance the primitive magics the Natha had doomed him to. It was old Natha tech, Darma's very own used against her. Hilarious, isn't it? Raysc learned of Nadril, and like you, braved the snow to find his way here. He proved his worth and his determination, and he spoke of a brighter future, El Nysa coming into its own, its people realizing their true potential, unhindered by the shackles that had been put upon them. I believed him. He had vision — or so I thought. In truth, he was a fool. A madman. He wasted the opportunity I gave him on his petty vengeance. But not everyone on this planet is such an idiot. Surely you lot aren't. The Natha are hiding things from us — about the Storm, about everything. And here in Nadril, we're going to find all those secrets. What's it going to be? Will you help us, or are you going to stay obedient dogs on Darma's leash? Magda isn't too talkative yet; after all, the new flock of refugees may just be here as eyes and ears for the Orbiters. But what he has said leaves you with plenty to talk about, and if you can earn his trust by helping out around Nadril, he doubtless has a great deal more to reveal. II. Central isn't the only Natha ship that made its way to El Nysa — another, crashed just outside Nadril's borders, is little more than a junk heap. It's here that you'll find the spare parts Darma asked you to retrieve for Thesa Station. What remains of the ship's hull serves as a windbreak, and snow has built up against it, turning the piles of old Natha tech inside into something of a snowy morass. Holes in the deck offer would-be scavengers passage to the ship's innards, barely illuminated with flickering lights — the tech is old, but hardy enough to withstand a crash landing, the severe weather, and the passage of centuries. Deep in the wreck are the remains of living quarters, research labs, VR arenas, mecha bays, cafeterias, and a host of other rooms, many of which may seem familiar from Thesa Station, albeit with a decidedly older feel to what remains of the smooth curves and sleek surfaces of the Natha architecture. Most of the ship's systems are damaged and the technology is nonfunctional, but that just means there's plenty of spare parts to be found. The wreck isn't in the best shape, its structural integrity damaged, and the drifting snow threatens to block off exit routes. Be careful while exploring and be sure to bring a partner. As it turns out, Darma isn't the only one interested in the wreck — Magda is also eager to get his hands on Natha technology. In his own way of taking some responsibility for Raysc, he's asking scavengers to bring him parts, muttering about seeing what he can do about Ysverai's curse. Bring him anything that looks useful, and he may have a chance to succeed, though whether he'll be more effective than the Natha Orbiters is up for debate... FINAL OOC NOTES     An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 NADRIL REP POINTS may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD HERE BY AUGUST 5TH, 11:59 PM EST. As always, feel free to create your own prompts and explore the Nadril location page! There are a variety of activities made available, including fishing and cave exploration! Please direct questions to the questions thread below! Thank you! QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[evite]

( the thing is, most people don't know what the winter soldier looks like. they've heard of him, whispers and rumors of strange abilities and impossible feats, but few and far between have ever seen him in the flesh. even fewer know the name behind the title.

daisy qualifies under neither category, so the hand extended and now taken is simple camaraderie, an attempt to stave off the misery of the day with good old fashioned teamwork. practicing her leadership skills, if you will. )

You came prepared, huh?

( her own smith & wesson lies tucked in a holster on her hip, hidden by the low hemline of her coat. it's mostly there for emergencies, but it's there all the same; she couldn't in good conscience leave it behind not knowing what was ahead. )

[shikomizue]

No thanks- [He waves his hand dismissively - the whole process is intriguing, but he's more interested in meeting one of these demons of hers.]

I've had my own army of demons - I can't be content as anything but their leader.

Though, maybe we'll end up testing our soldiers against one another, someday. [He doesn't have any... here... who are awake.

Details.]

[mollymocked]

[Molly's scarlet eyes go wide and there's an almost childlike mirth in them that you wouldn't expect to see on someone with eyes quite like that. He is absolutely delighted.] I can honestly say I have never heard of anything like that, but that is amazing, and if the non-living variety of rocks are your brethren in any way, I will give the utmost respect to any baubles I come across.

[That last part is a bit facetious, but he's so utterly endeared that he's talking to a SENTIENT DIAMOND that it's hard to take as offensive or insincere.]

[illuminating]

[For many reasons, she replies. Even if I wasn't already a little different from wolves, and capable of enduring more than average, wolves naturally have the capacity to adjust their own body temperature. My body is the same as theirs, with some minor differences. Summers give them the most trouble, and it's no coincidence they wound up in northern hemispheres.

She slows if he needs it, still continuing: Unlike dogs, with thin hair, the cold doesn't reach my skin. We have two coats, wolves. The top wicks away cold and moisture, below is something like wool. Have you ever felt wool? It grows tightly and coarse but plush. And I suppose like wolves, I'm inclined to movement, I don't feel like lying or sitting, which keeps blood circulating. I'm cold, if you're wondering, but I don't feel it the same way you do. Or at least I imagine not; I've never had a human body.

Forgive her for the brief national geographic lesson, she's simply honest to a fault, and he asked. She tilts her face at him, See? Many reasons. I'll still bring forth a fire, if you need a break. It's not about how fast you arrive, but that you arrive well and in one piece. Have you the items to set up a camp?]

[mollymocked]

Excellent. I'd love some. I hate sight-seeing alone. [He grins toothily. Nott and Caleb are elsewhere and he's left to his own devices, which is terrifying because he hates being alone. Of course he'll glom onto the first person who is willing to deal with him and allow him to make that an enjoyable experience.]

I'm Mollymauk, by the way. Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly, if you like.

[godslay]

[ She watches him expectantly, nodding along in agreement. ]

I've noticed Terrans seem to have experiences with milder food and drink.

[ Because Earth is so archaic, obviously. ]

[notwagging]

[ big ol' puppy dog eyes and sniffles is what he would've gotten. maybe. despite having a wonderful relationship with so many humans, it doesn't mean he lost his pointy teeth or his gloved fists... or his Beaststone, which would certainly complicate things!

but that's not the problem now. there is no problem--- in fact, he's simply elated to have Ren be part of the 'don't hurt Keaton' club. ]

Eh, I'm not worried. [ he doesn't have a hose or a bathtub, so he's pretty sure he's safe. a surprise bath would probably hurt his feelings more than anything right now, especially after having taken SO MANY (read: one?) in the past week or so.

and he leans into the stroke, looking at Ren carefully with one open eye while the other stays closed. ]

I'm guessing you've never seen anything like me before, huh.

[ he's no Mythic Beast Fenrir, but. hey. ]

[notwagging]

[ it's... well, yeah. there's probably a good reason for that. despite the attention they're both getting with Keaton's incredibly unusual method, the sound IS definitely getting softer and softer! one might ask 'how many licks does it take to get a weird piece of technology off of someone's ear' and get no answer, as Mister Owl has nothing for them.

but the deed is done and as soon as the tickling has begun, it's basically over and Keaton finally pulls away with a satisfied smirk. there's no more alarm noises, just a sad buzzing noise as he spits into his hand and reveals the ruined earring soaked in Keaton's spit. ]

There! Didn't taste that good. Your ear was fine, though.

[ he wouldn't mind going for that other ear, but not unless invited. ]

[notwagging]

[ only if she's super gentle and promises to replace anything that falls out with something 'fresh'. ]

By yourself? [ he turns his head so he can look at her in his peripheral. ] Why by yourself? Isn't dancing supposed to be like, something you do with others?

[ with a click of his tongue, Keaton is... well. he's trying his best to find his way. honestly there's a reason why he shouldn't go places alone despite having a good nose. his sense of direction is atrocious. ]

[evite]

( she's spent the majority of this first day shepherding the flock, trying her best to train her vision to pick out stragglers blotting the expanses of white with their greyscale parkas; by the time makeshift igloos begin to pop up around the trail, daisy is too tired to argue much about which one she winds up in.

it's serendipitous, really, that her sheltermate happens to be agent carter. the universe might be throwing her a dozen curveballs, but it's at least kind enough to give her a reasonable temporary roommate. )

Three out of ten, probably. ( it feels good to sit down, taking the weight off her feet and letting the hard packed snow provide support to her spine. ) Getting dropped into a blizzard is not the sleepaway camp experience I begged for as a kid, that's for damn sure.

[godslay]

[ bless her little goblin heart

Gamora leans her elbow on the bar, still considering Nott levelly. ]

I am Zehoberei, not orc.

[ Which seems like an important distinction, because Gamora's never met an orc before. ]

Do you have A'askavariians in your world?

[shikomizue]

[A few lives.

Thousands of lives.

No number of casualties is large enough to weigh on Takasugi's shoulders.]

He wants the people of this planet to achieve their full potential.

Don't you? Or do you think it's best they stay stunted?

[godslay]

No. I'm the only one.

[ She says it with a tight jaw, a small clench of her fingers around the pieces of the photo. She's at least found Nebula in the pods – but she's also found the more unwelcome members of her twisted little "family." ]

Most are still loyal to him, so the longer they stay in stasis, the better it will be for us all.

[ If the Black Order happened to be wandering around... life would become much more difficult. ]

[thetaintedsorrow]

Don’t worry about it. I’ll live.

[Even if it does fall, Chuuya can just use his powers to push the snow aside and find it.

He’s only seen snow a handful of times himself...]

Really? Was it tropical where you come from? Or just hot all the time?

[thetaintedsorrow]

[Chuuya takes the pin back without much fuss. He won’t deny that the cold wind is biting right through his clothes...]

It’s probably rude to ask, but why the blood? Are you sick? Or injured?

[He doesn’t have healing powers, but he’d still rather know just what he’s dealing with here.]

[godslay]

[ Gamora is in the middle of plunging her hand into the icy water, trying to catch the end of her spear, but—

Ah, another voice.

She just barely brushes her finger over the trident before it sinks past her reach, and Gamora growls with frustration as she draws her arm back out of the hole in the ice. Properly looking over to her new company, she sits back on her heels, lips pressed in a thin line. ]

This earring is malfunctioning, and it made me drop my spear.

[ She tugs at the communicator on her ear with a huff – clearly unbothered by the fact that she'd just sunk her arm into freezing water almost up to her shoulder. Her sleeve is soaked now, and she'll probably want to ditch her coat before it starts gathering frost or growing stiff with its own ice. ]

[hedonistic]

[Isolation, ha. Ha ha. If All Might happens to be watching his expression carefully, he might notice where his grin turns slightly bitter, like there's a joke in what the older man said that only he is privy to.

But anything Kagari might have had to say dies in his throat when All Might says he's from Japan. He even stops walking for a bare second, before his legs catch back up with his brain. Really, he shouldn't even ask; Japan is dead and gone and he never has to see it again, but discomfort has seeped into his spine already and it's too late to put that metaphorical genie back in the bottle.

Notably, he doesn't look the older man in the eye when he speaks up again.]

You ever hear of something called the Sybil System?

[For the first time in his life, Kagari's been able to be something more than a latent criminal. On some level, he realizes if he keeps his mouth shut, nobody needs to know. But he's never been someone who could pretend to be something he's not. He needs to know for sure if this guy is from his Japan, or it'll bother him all the way through this miserable blizzard.]

[godslay]

[ Gamora has largely been content to ignore almost everyone in the bar up until this point, but her attention momentarily refocuses on Bucky. She's already aggravated by her persistent company, and she's ready to bristle more at the human (?) leaning on the bar.

However, she's pleasantly surprised when Bucky's leaving her to her business instead of some misguided chivalry. ]

Yes, I can. And I've already said I don't want it.

[ The man with the drink turns back to her, but instead of trying to just hand her the glass, he moves to slide his arm around her shoulders.

Oh, absolutely not.

Before he can even touch her, Gamora's in motion. She grabs the man's hand, stepping to the opposite side and taking the whole arm with her until his shoulder gives an audible "pop!"

And now the guy's screaming while Gamora keeps ahold of his palm with just her fingertips. ]

What part of "no" is so confusing for you?

[shikomizue]

[There on the hot day they'd all gathered to help make the farm into a home, and there on the dark day the sky had lost all glow, sun shrouded by the dragon's wings. Takasugi watches the joviality drain from the hybrid's face.

But he doesn't mirror the boy's frown.]

You'll have to focus more on working than rolling around, to clean it up.

[Almost remorseful, but-] I was there when the dragon raged in the sky.

There's debris, and upturned roots.

But the house still stands, and the crops are still growing. [He doesn't manage to sound comforting - more like he's somehow bragging? - but at least he's telling the truth.

That's pretty rare.]

[summertimeblues]

How can anyone stay loyal to a baby butcher?

[Of course they could. Even as the words leave his mouth he knows he's got his answer already. Cultish devotion made people excuse the strangest things. Love and authority and admiration concocted excuses for even the worst atrocities. Still, thinking that any thinking person could fall under that sway was beyond his understanding.

Gamora got out. And she's safe. At least for now. All it would take is another wave of newbies to flip the situation.]

You said you couldn't take him. Do you think there's anyone here that could?

[A wild guess, but with the mishmash of superpowers and alien races there could be a trump card. If it's alien might and biology she's talking, then maybe a wizardish swish and flick could turn the tables.]

[willrevile]

[ 'Idyllic' is a hilarious way to think of Olympia's thinly veiled fascism, Wyver's wildly dangerous prioritization of violence, and Nadril's extreme conditions.

But Jim's a filthy socialist, so. ]

I want to know more about everything. The Storm itself is probably the thing I have the least trouble wrapping my head around. Though I'm still not convinced it's what they say it is, especially consider the non-linear way they're moving us around through time and space.

[ofhousetarly]

[ Whereas Sam is more interested in writing notes on the little robots, maybe even sketching a few of them. All in the hopes that Gilly and baby Sam would soon awake and he could share with them the incredible sights he has seen in this world. ]

Yes, we have them back home. But I haven't seen one in a long time.

[ Much as he tried not to think of his own world and responsibilities, Sam couldn't help it. ]

Do you want to continue looking?

[fisherwife]

I prefer Olympia generally--I'd been working at the Sanctuary there, a place of healing. They've taught me quite a bit about treating people beyond just using my magic.

[She looks curiously at the slate--she can't say she ever really understood how it all worked, but it's disappointing to hear that it doesn't seem to be working very well.]

That's unfortunate... But at least you could record your adventures and the like. That's still useful. [She gives his hand a little squeeze of reassurance] And who knows what could be done to it here... We might be able to give it some other new upgrades we couldn't dream about back home.

[almaredemptoris]

Once Rumlow begins removing more clothing, Jean Valjean lies down again to politely avert his gaze to the ceiling that hangs not far above his head. But he catches a glimpse of the network of scars marring the man’s flesh, and he wonders what manner of life had marked him so. He himself has his own landscape of scars cut into his back, kept secret beneath his shirt, a constant reminder of the past that shadows him. Although he has lain down, he leaves the light on for the moment, as the other man continues the conversation.

“There are not many here whom you might use it on, unfortunately.” Perhaps, he thinks, that is for the best.

“As to the Coalition,” he continues, “I have heard of nothing since then. Preparations were no doubt underway, but what labors were begun are now on hold.”

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto moves to sit up from where he's been pressed against the other man's side, shooting him another incredulous expression. Gross, John. Honestly, he had simply been aiming for light, vapid conversation but if you're going to be like that.

"I'm pretty sure pimping you out to anyone would be against my better interests," Ianto comments. Raising an eyebrow at him before he turns away and runs another hand through his hair.

"Anyway..." he says, trailing off. "That'll teach me to make any attempts to lighten the mood. Clearly I should just leave the humor to the professionals." That means you, John. Ha ha.