John has never liked people who interrupt to make little speeches. It kinda smacks of villainous monologue, and villainous monologues are not a thing John is fond of.
Especially not villainous monologues from people who live in mysterious secluded place you have to access by walking through snow storms.
John, at least, is used to the cold. He spent a while out in Antarctica before he was sent to Atlantis, so getting through it isn't a big deal -- but it's still tiring. Walking through snow takes a lot of stamina, especially in high winds.
That means they need to take breaks, especially for anyone he's travelling with who may not be as used to it as he is. It's a long walk in the biting cold, and even though moving is better for staying warm exhaustion is a thing. The spot he's chosen to pause in is sheltered from the wind, and John is watching the surroundings with a sceptical squint before he finally says --
"He sounds like a man who owns a white cat. You know? Calling us lapdogs. I mean really! Is that meant to make us want to trust him?"
He's still stuck on bond-villain Magda.
A WARM WELCOME:
Finally making it to Nadril is a relief. The fancy ear-cuffs and wristlets are cool, but John feels wary still after listening to Magda talks. There's every chance these things are actually being used to spy on them in turn, and he puts them away in his bag after a moment of thought rather than using them.
Instead, he walks around the small lodgings, pokes around the drop ship and finally finds himself exploring the research facility -- where he quickly ends up locked in a heated debate. The object he's gesturing at is small and dull looking, but from the sounds of it John recognises it.
"It won't work for you," he's saying, gesturing at the item they won't let him take. "That's why it looks broken. Listen to me, it's gene activated -- I know what it is! It won't work for anyone in this place unless they're from my home and even then it's a pretty low chance they'll have it!"
It doesn't look as if the staff are especially willing to budge. Neither does it look especially like John is going to give up, though.
RECREATION;
John dodges all the little skittering robot pets long enough to make it to the Cantina, and then pulls up a stool to eye the smoking drinks.
He's drunk smoking alcohol before. He hasn't forgotten the last time.
Still, for the moment he's mostly trying to subtly listen in on some local gossip -- try to acclimatise himself to opinions on things and generally blend in as much as he can. The sports games are interesting, John likes sport enough to be curious about it, but the rules are all alien and it's going to take some time to work out how it's played and which teams have a good reputation. Which means he probably shouldn't be wagering anything yet.
When he spots someone sitting down and considering a drink nearby, though, he finally pipes up --
"I wouldn't drink that."
Speaking from experience.
THE MISSION;
Magda is clearly being just as cryptic as the Natha for now, so after a quick lap of his tower John makes for something else -- the other crashed Natha ship. It's been there a long time, but the faint flickering of lights on the panels says it isn't dead yet. If it isn't dead yet, John thinks there's always a chance he can get something out of it. He's half laid on the floor with his hands in a panel, muttering under his breath.
"Come on, show me what you got. Come on, wake up --"
There's a momentary surge of power, and John switches a hand up to vaguely touch a patch of wall near the control panel.
"There we go! Logs, come on, give me logs--"
But it begins to drain again after a moment and he sighs, drops his hand and squints back into the panel with a sigh. Something, something is still just a little wrong. Not surprising, considering how the thing's been scavenged, but if he can just find it and get this thing up and running maybe he can learn something.
[ ooc; I default to prose but I'm happy to switch to brackets for anyone who prefers that! If you want anything not listed, just shoot me a PM! ]
John Sheppard | Stargate Atlantis
John has never liked people who interrupt to make little speeches. It kinda smacks of villainous monologue, and villainous monologues are not a thing John is fond of.
Especially not villainous monologues from people who live in mysterious secluded place you have to access by walking through snow storms.
John, at least, is used to the cold. He spent a while out in Antarctica before he was sent to Atlantis, so getting through it isn't a big deal -- but it's still tiring. Walking through snow takes a lot of stamina, especially in high winds.
That means they need to take breaks, especially for anyone he's travelling with who may not be as used to it as he is. It's a long walk in the biting cold, and even though moving is better for staying warm exhaustion is a thing. The spot he's chosen to pause in is sheltered from the wind, and John is watching the surroundings with a sceptical squint before he finally says --
"He sounds like a man who owns a white cat. You know? Calling us lapdogs. I mean really! Is that meant to make us want to trust him?"
He's still stuck on bond-villain Magda.
A WARM WELCOME:
Finally making it to Nadril is a relief. The fancy ear-cuffs and wristlets are cool, but John feels wary still after listening to Magda talks. There's every chance these things are actually being used to spy on them in turn, and he puts them away in his bag after a moment of thought rather than using them.
Instead, he walks around the small lodgings, pokes around the drop ship and finally finds himself exploring the research facility -- where he quickly ends up locked in a heated debate. The object he's gesturing at is small and dull looking, but from the sounds of it John recognises it.
"It won't work for you," he's saying, gesturing at the item they won't let him take. "That's why it looks broken. Listen to me, it's gene activated -- I know what it is! It won't work for anyone in this place unless they're from my home and even then it's a pretty low chance they'll have it!"
It doesn't look as if the staff are especially willing to budge. Neither does it look especially like John is going to give up, though.
RECREATION;
John dodges all the little skittering robot pets long enough to make it to the Cantina, and then pulls up a stool to eye the smoking drinks.
He's drunk smoking alcohol before. He hasn't forgotten the last time.
Still, for the moment he's mostly trying to subtly listen in on some local gossip -- try to acclimatise himself to opinions on things and generally blend in as much as he can. The sports games are interesting, John likes sport enough to be curious about it, but the rules are all alien and it's going to take some time to work out how it's played and which teams have a good reputation. Which means he probably shouldn't be wagering anything yet.
When he spots someone sitting down and considering a drink nearby, though, he finally pipes up --
"I wouldn't drink that."
Speaking from experience.
THE MISSION;
Magda is clearly being just as cryptic as the Natha for now, so after a quick lap of his tower John makes for something else -- the other crashed Natha ship. It's been there a long time, but the faint flickering of lights on the panels says it isn't dead yet. If it isn't dead yet, John thinks there's always a chance he can get something out of it. He's half laid on the floor with his hands in a panel, muttering under his breath.
"Come on, show me what you got. Come on, wake up --"
There's a momentary surge of power, and John switches a hand up to vaguely touch a patch of wall near the control panel.
"There we go! Logs, come on, give me logs--"
But it begins to drain again after a moment and he sighs, drops his hand and squints back into the panel with a sigh. Something, something is still just a little wrong. Not surprising, considering how the thing's been scavenged, but if he can just find it and get this thing up and running maybe he can learn something.
[ ooc; I default to prose but I'm happy to switch to brackets for anyone who prefers that! If you want anything not listed, just shoot me a PM! ]