❪ 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]

"It proves you have terrible taste."

Honestly.

"For one thing, Ghost Riders in the Sky is not just any cowboy song. It's been covered by Peggy Lee, Bing Crosby, Burl Ives, Elvis Presley, Tom Jones and Johnny Cash. It also featured in Blues Brothers 2000 -- 1998, sung by Dan Aykroyd and John Goodman."

So there, Ianto, get some culture! Still, he unzips his thick jacket with a sigh and studies Ianto -- moves his hands away from the edge of the mattress further onto it so he can lean back onto them.

[torchwoodteaboy]

"And now one Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard," Ianto counters, recognizing most of the names in that list but feeling as though he probably shouldn't admit to the fact for fear of a lecture on the topic that might bring them further off topic.

Then again, as John leans back on his hands in front of him and Ianto becomes acutely aware of his hands where they rest on the other man's knees, he's not really certain what topic that is anymore. He hasn't gotten his answer back, not directly at least. But John doesn't want him to go. Despite all this. John hasn't pushed him away yet. And that has to count for something as well.

"I stand corrected, then," he replies. "That I should have been so lucky to be serenaded with such a historical tribute." He tilts his head at the other man and offers him another tentative smile. "To flaming cows..."

[impavid]

"And ghostly riders."

It was mostly a tribute to the ghostly riders, actually, but to be fair Ianto never heard the whole song. He studies Ianto a long moment, then winces and reaches out to tug him up.

"Get up off the floor already," he prompts, because it's generating some crawling discomfort watching him kneeling like that. There's a weird mix of something worshipful and desperate to the action that John can't quite stomach right now. He can sit if he wants, just not... that.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto glances up at the other man before he allows himself to be tugged up off of the floor with the pull on his hand. Standing awkwardly before moving to sit back beside him on the bed again. He'd been there before and it seems like an invitation, he supposes. He's not sure what to do with himself once he's there, of course, fidgeting slightly before he turns to glance beside himself again.

"John, I..." he starts, though he can't quite find the right words to continue for the moment either. Licking his lips hesitantly, he collects himself before he starts again. "It's. It's alright. I mean, I'm not. I'm not going to --..."

[impavid]

"Don't worry about it," John says smoothly. Then, after a moment of hesitation, "probably better you don't risk yourself getting the AI rating you out of ten."

That's absolutely the reason, just that. Nothing else. There's no other reason for his discomfort. Probably. Not that it's not a pretty solid one in and of itself, he's pretty sure tips from your smart home would ruin the mood.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Even though it's a joke that John has already made Ianto lets out an abrupt bark of laughter at the thought of it. John's not the only one who's felt the tension rising during this conversation, and it's good to let a little of it out with that.

Sitting forward, he runs his fingers through his hair, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, before he speaks again. Feeling the need to make one final point clear.

"John..." He presses his lips together, keeping his eyes directed down to the floor as he tries again. "There may have been a part of me that compared you to Jack when we first met. And maybe there are pieces of you that are similar. I expect there are pieces of you that have to be. But that's not why..."

He trails off again, before deciding to just go in for the kill. Turning in his seat to look back at the other man, his blue eyes a little guarded and a little uncertain, but oh so honest. "That's not why I-- like you. I just. I need you to know that, yeah?"

They both know he might have used a different word in that sentence. You don't weep over the thought of losing someone you like. But Ianto figures he's pushed the other man enough for one day and anyway, his point is clear enough.

[impavid]

Right. John flicks his eyes uneasily sideways, then after a moment of mental debate reaches out and runs his arm around Ianto's shoulders -- tugs him to lean into his side.

"My jokes are better, right?"

That's totally what it is. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, letting his fingers lift to rub affectionately at Ianto's hair.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto tenses for a moment as John's arm goes around his shoulder, before he relaxes against the other man's side. He can feel his heart racing a mile a minute, but this is... Good. This is a good sign. John's fingers in his hair. He resists the urge to shiver at the touch, a little over-stimulated by it through his nerves, but certainly not enough to want to pull away.

"That must be it," Ianto replies, aiming at his best light tone. "And you haven't referenced sex with alternative alien lifeforms even once." Yet.

[impavid]

His face scrunches up at that, and John turns over the sentence a few times before he finally replies.

"Alternative alien lifeforms?"

Really? He supposes, depending on your scale for alien lifeforms, he's had conversations about non-earth Tau'ri so... in that sense, he has? Yet all the same not... you know.

"I mean, Darma is kinda hot."

Is he serious? Who even knows.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Now it's Ianto's turn to make a face, turning aside to give John a look of his own.

"Darma," Ianto counters, a little incredulously, "is, by all accounts, hundreds of years old and will likely murder you in your sleep."

He turns to settle himself back against John's shoulder again. "There's an idea, though. Magda and Darma. Rumor has it he was in her pocket before he decided to uproot into the mountains like this. Maybe you're on to something."

Or maybe Ianto is just humoring you, John. It's definitely easy to talk nonsense than it is to dig answers or feelings out of you, he'll certainly give you that.

[impavid]

Where is this going though? John frowns in thought, then side-eyes Ianto. Onto something in the sense of Darma being hot? Onto something in the sense of... what?

"I can't tell if you're pairing them up or pimping me out to get information."

Which he is not especially into right now, thank you very much. He really has enough problems without adding that to the pile.

[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.

[impavid]

"For all I know you might be into that kinda thing. I'm not here to judge."

You know, pimping people. Or maybe voyeurism or something. He tugs Ianto back close into his side again and sighs.

"Listen, I know I'm..."

Difficult? Awkward? Incapable of finishing a sentence? There are so many ways to end that thought. John winces, tries to regroup. He can feel Prior's judgement long-distance, somehow.

"Just... be patient with me. I'm... I am trying."

It may not look like it sometimes, he supposes, but he really is trying.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto allows himself to be pulled back against the other man's side again, trying to let himself relax against his solid warmth. He stays quiet, letting John struggle through the end of his thought and collecting himself enough to gather one of his own before he replies himself.

"Yeah," he says quietly. He supposes he does recognize that much, at least. That he is trying. This -- this is trying, at least.

"I have no idea what I'm doing here either, I hope you do realize that," he adds softly, after a beat.

[impavid]

"Well you know more than me. If you think I'm going to take you under my wing and show you the ways of the world, you are sadly mistaken."

I mean in the sense of... how to shoot someone? How to build a shelter? How to fly a helicopter? To tie a safety knot? Sure, John can teach people that. Anything interpersonal here, though, John is adrift in deep water.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto can't help but smile a little at that, shaking his head as he does. "No," he replies. "That's alright, though. I'm not looking for a mentor, John. I want..."

He flicks his eyes to the side, glancing at the other man again and fidgeting slightly. How best to explain himself here? Now that John's made the comparison between him and Jack, he's extra conscious of doing so himself, and yet.

"It was fun," he says, carefully. "Working for Torchwood. Being with Jack. ...discovering who I am, what I liked, what I wanted, and what that -- what that all entailed." He swallows, a bit nervous for talking about this aloud but hey. Maybe it will help?

"He was good at that. No judgment. Not with sex, anyway. But I could never..." He presses his lips together, glancing back at John before shrugging helplessly. "He would never let himself get close, I suppose. Or maybe I was too afraid to try. Too afraid I'd push him away if he did, and then maybe. Then maybe everything my tad said about me was right." He flicks his eyes down to his hands where he's laced them in his lap, not really wanting to get into his whole family dynamic with John, but he supposes the other man might have guessed at some of it as it is.

"I'm not going to make the same mistake again, John," he says at last.

[impavid]

John wants to argue with that, argue that Ianto at least worked with someone open about this and that he doesn't even know how to be open --

Yet at the same time maybe it... doesn't strictly matter, if... If Ianto was never... close with this guy, anyway, whatever that means. Then -- maybe he really hasn't got much of a benchmark for this either.

"Just so long as your expectations here are pretty much on the floor already."

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto leans further into the other man's side, bumping him lightly with his shoulder as he does.

"My expectations," he repeats, dryly. "Well done, putting it like that... Like it's just one step away from some set of demands I've laid on you.” Tell him how you really feel about it, why don’t you?

Which is pretty much the crux of the matter, as it stands. Ianto is acutely aware John hasn’t really given him much of an answer to his own desires in this, beyond an arm around his shoulder and the reassurance that he doesn’t want him to leave because he appreciates his jokes.

[impavid]

"You are very demanding. I'm just waiting for a list at this point."

He tightens his arm around Ianto in response to the bump, squeezing him closer for a moment.

"And, you should probably get some rest. You know, so you can write your demands with a clear head."

A three day trip through the snow was definitely tiring for Ianto, he knows that. It was tiring for John too, but John also hardly slept. He kept awake as much as he could, like an uneasy ghost watching over Ianto and their surroundings.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto lets out a soft sigh, sinking further against the other man's side as he does. He's probably right, of course. They'd been walking for days, and the promise of a warm night's sleep on a real bed nearly brings tears to his eyes, he's so relieved to think of it.

He's not certain he's gotten anywhere, with this conversation attempt. Not as far as he might have liked, at any rate. John is... Surprisingly stubborn about all of this. And surprisingly soft for that matter as well. Nervous and uncertain, and Ianto supposes he'll have to tread carefully. Be patient, as John had asked. He will certainly do his best to try, at any rate.

"I'm pretty sure that we're both running on just fumes at this point," he agrees. Leaning quietly against the other man's side for a few moments longer before continuing to ask, cheekily, "Is this a subtle request for me to give your bed back, then?"

[impavid]

"No," he says, because it wasn't. It was a subtle request for them to stop talking in circles, if anything, but not really for his bed back.

He doesn't really mind where Ianto sleeps, as long as he does actually sleep.

"Although," he adds, "you may as well shove the beds together if you're planning to leech all my body heat."

Since they're not very big beds to begin with.

[torchwoodteaboy]

It takes a moment for that to sink in for Ianto, because he actually had been readying himself to peel away from the other man's side and give him the space he'd assumed that he'd want. He turns to glance up at the other man, his blue eyes searching John's face in the attempt to find whether this is just something he has resigned himself to or whether it's actually an invitation. He's... Going to hope that it's the latter. He really would like for it to be, anyway.

He'd like to pretend it's the chill in the air that brings the color to his cheeks, but they both know better than that anyway. There's about a thousand questions that go through his head as he meets John's eyes. Are you sure you'll get any sleep if we do? Do you resent the fact that I want this? Do you want this? Would you promise to tell me at least if you didn't?

"Well..." Ianto says at last. "You... Are very warm..."

[impavid]

"I am," John confirms. His expression is mostly locked in a tiredly neutral expression, not giving much else away. "And --"

There's a gentle digital tone, and John's expression immediately drops into cynical irritation.

In cold weather, it is advisable to --

"Yes, thank you," he says, trying to talk over it. He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh, dropping his arm from around Ianto and pushing to his feet. "Why don't I see if I can kill off our friend here while you re-arrange the furniture?"

By kill off, John really means force a shut down. He can at least try.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto presses his lips tightly together and nods in response to the other man's offer. "Right," he says, pushing himself up to stand as well. "Probably for the best..." He's not sure he can take that much more 'helpful' advice from their 'friend' tonight himself.

Of course, the task of rearranging the furniture is easier said than done as well. After a bit of doing, Ianto shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it across his bed before really putting his back into it.

The beds, it seems, had probably not been moved in some time and may or may not have been frozen in place. A fact that Ianto learns quite suddenly when, with a sudden release, the whole thing shifts quite easily and slides to slam into the bed across the room. Rather loudly, considering this is a communal living space, of sorts.

Oops.

[impavid]

John has managed to turn off the control panels in the small living-come-bedroom area at least. He's thinking about searching the bathroom when the beds suddenly clunk together and he startles, turns around sharply to make sure Ianto is okay.

He is, though, and John lets out a heavy sigh as he shrugs out of his own jacket finally.

"These are all off now anyway. Might be one in the bathroom."

He doesn't really know or care, at this point, just drops to sit on the end of the half of the bed that was his and leans to begin unlacing his shoes.

"Anyway, if you want to use the bathroom first go ahead. Or if you want me to check it for obnoxious AI first, I guess wait and I'll turn off anything I find."

The one benefit to his gene becoming over-active, he supposes, is now he can turn stuff off too.