❪ 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

[impavid]

John frowns at the scanner for a long moment, then scrunches his face up in a cynical sort of sneer.

"Everything's lighting up. Great, we've got ourselves a smart home."

Which may well be watching them at every moment. He drops the scanner onto the bed and scowls around the room.

"Make sure you jerk off in the bathroom."

You know, to give Magda an eyeful if he's watching. Screw you, Magda.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto sputters slightly in response to John's suggestion, again not really knowing where it's coming from or whether the other man is serious or not. It's, well. It's not like he's never done it in a bathroom they've shared, but is this some sort of commentary on the matter. Is this some sort of commentary on him?

Something in the direction of the bathroom makes the same tone as before and pipes up, Masturbation has been clinically proven to relieve stress and improve self esteem.

Ianto presses his lips tightly together in response to this piece of advice before shooting John a look as if to say, 'this is your fault'.

[impavid]

He squints over at the bathroom, face scrunching up again for a second before he shrugs.

"Probably has a point."

Masturbation probably is good for those things. John, however, is now going to continue unpacking since he cannot do anything about the stupid smart-home voice for now. He's annoyed, but he's also tired and everything aches from travelling through the snow. Honestly, he can tolerate the stupid thing if he can sleep while warm.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto shoots the other man another look, a mixture of confusion, exasperation, and embarrassment coloring across his face as he does. What's that supposed to mean, exactly? Is it supposed to mean anything? John can't just make comments like that and then go back to unpacking as though he hadn't. It really isn't fair.

"Thanks for that," he replies. "It'll probably start giving me pointers now."

[impavid]

"Well, if you'd like you're welcome to try and persuade the thing you're proficient with your hand. I'm hoping to take the high road here."

That is to say, he's hoping if he stays quiet enough and doesn't feed it the thing will stop chipping in with advice. How true that is, and how decent he will be at staying quiet, remains to be seen. In general, John can't actually keep his mouth shut for long. He has a lot of opinions, and a defensive streak a mile wide. Everyone has their flaws.

Still, he continues unpacking with (for the moment) quiet determination. You won't get to him, smart-home AI voice. He is blocking you out right now.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Take the high road with words like that? Ianto narrows his eyes slightly, furrowing his brow as he does. This is just so typical John, and yet it makes him want to take him by the front of his shirt and shake him. If you'd like you're welcome to--

"I don't think the robot really cares how 'proficient' I am," Ianto shoots back. "Though perhaps you'd like a practical demonstration yourself, if you're so interested in my techniques."

John is the one who brought it up in the first place after all. Ianto raises his eyebrows at the other man again. Two can play at this game -- how does it feel to have a taste of your own medicine?

[impavid]

John hesitates a moment in unpacking his clothes, because --

Well, because this is an awkward path to begin down before sharing a room with someone. It's deeply precarious territory, and he's pretty sure they both know that. He feels like no answer is really a right answer, and everything has a potential to end in him finding a separate room away from Ianto later on when things inevitably go wrong.

"There's a danger it might give you a rating out of ten at the end and suggest pointers."

Did he forget to answer the question? Oh well. Can't have been deliberate.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Oh Ianto is aware of how deliberate that sidestepping is, and he's even partially aware of why he's done it, because it's no doubt for the same reason that he's avoided bringing up certain topics of his own for discussion. On the same hand, if John feels comfortable enough to joke about it... Why shouldn't he?

He stays seated on the bed where he is, watching the other man unpack as he weighs his next words carefully and deliberately.

"Perhaps. But what would a robot voyeur understand about satisfaction?"

[impavid]

Oooh boy. John wets his lips nervously and stops unpacking, half turns toward Ianto and tries to weigh up what to say.

He feels tense. He's pretty sure Ianto can feel the tension too. He has no real idea how to handle it, though.

"You know what?" he says finally, "I have no idea."

About what robot voyeurs understand. About any of his, honestly, it's a blanket statement really. I have no idea what to do about any of this. I have no idea what I'm doing about ninety percent of the time.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto can certainly feel the tension. But he's felt the tension there between them for the last few weeks. On and off as John has popped off a comment like that and then casually evaded anything he might have meant by it. As he had allowed Ianto to weigh every moment over in his mind, struggling without knowing what he'd meant by any of it, really. Ianto wonders just how long this dance will go on and how much longer before he snaps, really.

He wonders if he's snapping now. This is hardly the time nor place to push the point, when this room is so small and John will be right on top of him the entire time they're sharing it. Then again, maybe it is...

Ianto watches the other man's nervous shifting and hedging and thinks about it. Really thinks. He really has no idea either, but that's no reason to keep holding himself back. He could -- get lost and freeze to death out in a snow drift tomorrow. God knows what trouble John might get himself into next. Does he really want to waste this time hedging himself because John's convinced he's going to mess something up? Of course he is. And Ianto will be there to pick up the pieces when he does.

Well. That's decided then, Ianto concludes to himself, watching John for a moment longer before he speaks up again once more. "You know," he says, moving to clasp his hands in his lap before he continues, "if you make me attempt too much more blatant innuendo I'm going to start thinking you're ignoring me on purpose."

[impavid]

Maybe that's because he is. Maybe that's because he doesn't want to do this. Maybe that's because he's hoping, if he waits long enough, somehow this problem will vanish and Ianto will stay his friend and everything will be easy and he won't have to muddy the waters.

"Maybe I just like blatant innuendo," he tries, because maybe he does. Actually, he genuinely does -- even if that's beside the point. That isn't the real reason, and they both know that. John is just dodging it again, like feelings are bullets and he thinks he's Neo in the Matrix. Like he has to keep avoiding this topic even when they're both well aware of exactly what they're talking about.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto's expression tightens slightly, because there he goes again, even after Ianto's pointed out he's on to him at this point too. On to the fact that he's dodging his questions, and avoiding Ianto's interest in him as well. Ignoring his interest when Ianto knows for a fact he hadn't pushed him away before.

"Is that all you're interested in then?" he pushes. "A little verbal back and forth to keep you amused? Is that why you're keeping me held out at arm's reach?"

[impavid]

He winces visibly at that, rubs his face and lets out a slow breath. Is that what he's doing? Something about the sharp way Ianto words it hits hard. To keep you amused, like he's just toying with Ianto heartlessly. He doesn't mean to do that, he just --

John sits down slowly on the edge of his bed, tries to moderate his breathing. To keep himself calm, keep his head clear. It's the only way he'll survive this conversation.

"Ianto..." he tries, and there's wariness in it. Are we really doing this? Do you really want to? He's not good at this. There's no way they'll get through the conversation without someone hurting, he's pretty sure.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto can tell that John is uncomfortable. He can read it in his body language and the way that he keeps hedging on answering his questions. Even now, when he's being as direct as he can without stepping up and physically pinning him down to get his replies. But he doesn't understand. How can he, when on one hand John will openly flirt with him and on the other, he'll go out of his way to avoid pretty much anything to do with Ianto being accepting of that fact. To wanting more.

Ianto sighs, knowing that they're both tired and that it's only a matter of time before this AI decides to provide any 'helpful' input into their conversation. But enough is enough, John. He's probably already let it go for too long. Enough.

"The thing is," Ianto continues, "you could have told me off a long time ago if you weren't. It's not like I've kept this a secret from you. I'd like to imagine the kiss was a pretty big tip."

[impavid]

He could have, it's true. He could have and probably should have. Maybe then, all this would be easier. Maybe then he wouldn't be in this mess at all.

"It's not like that," he manages finally, as if that explains things. What is it like, then? John doesn't know. Something else. It's just not -- it's not some... cruel... scheme designed to upset Ianto. He isn't -- well, okay, he's maybe avoiding the topic on purpose right now a little bit but...

It's not... for his amusement. It's not like that.

[torchwoodteaboy]

It doesn’t really explain anything, no. It’s frustrating, the way that John keeps clamming up here. It’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want to answer Ianto’s questions, but Ianto wants to understand why. Why, when he’s pretty certain that John is interested too. Even if he won’t admit to it so directly. He’s seen it, here and there, in moments John has let him get away with. In moments John has gotten away with. And yet.

“Then what is it, John?” Ianto presses. His expression tight for the fact that he has to. It’s not like he wants to make the other man uncomfortable. But he doesn’t know why John just can’t answer the question either. “Just talk to me. Make me understand. Because right now... I don’t know what to think. Are you trying to protect me, then? Is that it? Are you trying to protect yourself? Is it because I’m...” He gestures at himself, awkwardly.

[impavid]

"There's nothing wrong with you," John says, and he sounds a little tired as he says it. There's nothing wrong with Ianto, but there's everything wrong with John himself. He knows, on some level, that they needed to have this conversation at some point. He knows Ianto deserves some kind of answer. He just doesn't know how to do it. All the words die in his throat, and he finds himself flailing like a fish stuck on the shore.

Maybe that's better, though. Maybe it's better Ianto is disappointed in him now instead of later. Maybe then he'll understand.

[torchwoodteaboy]

“Isn’t there?” Ianto counters, searching the other man’s face as he does. Trying to look for something, anything that might hint at what the other man is thinking. He’s beginning to think he’s going to have to take up kind-reading to get the answer out of him at this rate. “You really can just tell me that you’re not interested. If that’s the truth.”

The way he says it, he doesn’t think it is, but. Give him something. He isn’t sure how much more of this he can take, demanding answers of the other man and receiving nothing in return.

[impavid]

"Stop," John snaps, and his hands come up to rub at his face. He's tired and the conversation is raking over his nerves, rubbing his fur the wrong way so he feels increasingly on edge. "This is not about you, alright? None of this is to do with you, it's me. I just -- can't."

It's not you, it's me. God, isn't he a cliche. Not even the good kind, either. The pathetic kind. He's a tragic mess, and he deserves every inch of judgement he's probably getting right now. He drops his hands and skims his eyes around the room, everywhere but Ianto, then flops backwards onto the bed and stares at the ceiling.

Great. Way to go, John, you're messing this up pretty well. Add it to the list.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto jumps a little at the sudden sharpness of the other man’s voice. John has never told him off before and Ianto hesitates, honestly wondering if he has pushed the other man too far. I just — can’t.

He sits still as John flops back on his bed, watching the other man for a long moment before he moves to push himself to stand. Pausing as he does, clenching his hands tightly into fists before he takes a step forward and drops to take a seat next to him. There is a part of him that wonders whether moving closer is a mistake, especially while John’s mood is so volatile. Whether all of this is a mistake. Well, he supposes there’s only really one way to find out.

“Can’t,” Ianto says softly, “or won’t?”

[impavid]

He feels the bed dip and John's fingers curl, because Ianto is persistent. He's probably grown so used to John being an asshole it's just normal now, but why even try? He can hardly be worth this after all the trouble he's put Ianto through.

"What's it matter? I'm pretty sure you can find a different pilot here to try. I've met a couple. I mean I know Kirk was a Captain but commanding a ship is pretty close too, right?"

Ianto clearly has a type, after all. John has noticed, he's not stupid.

[torchwoodteaboy]

A different pilot to try. The insinuation in the other man's choice of words is enough to make Ianto want to reach out and thump him in the stomach. As it is, a muscle in his jaw twitches slightly as he clenches it tightly before he replies, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? It'd be so much easier for you if I would just give it up and find someone else to pine after, is that it?"

He moves to stand again, pacing the several steps that he can across the floor of the little room -- he just can't sit there next to the other man and listen to this. He just can't listen to it period.

[impavid]

John feels a flash of satisfaction for a moment as Ianto stands up, because that's what he wanted. Distance.

Still, it only lasts a moment before he feels the unease settle in again. He wants distance but he doesn't want Ianto to actually leave. They're frustrating, conflicting goals. There's some middle ground he needs to aim for. He hesitates before pushing himself up again, sliding to sit at the head of the bed and grip his hands onto the edge of the mattress.

"It'd be easier for both of us," he offers, because it would be. They wouldn't need to work through any of this. Ianto would need to get hurt, John wouldn't need to watch him suffer.

[torchwoodteaboy]

"Don't!" Ianto throws back at the other man, whipping around from where he's paced across the room.

From somewhere within the room the musical tone of the helpful AI sounds and pipes up, A problem is never solved with--

"Oh for god's sake," Ianto exclaims over it, exasperated with both of them, truth be told. But especially with John. "Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said to you the past few months?”

[impavid]

"Have you been listening to me?"

Since he feels like he's made a solid case for why this is a terrible idea.

"I'm not good at this, Ianto. I'm terrible at it, and I'm pretty sure that... that whatever is you need, I'm not the right person for it."

Not unless Ianto wants to be disappointed. To be left bitter and alone, pushed away, closed out and frustrated.