❪ 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

[torchwoodteaboy]

He's still a little self-conscious of -- a great many things, really -- yet he follows John's advice and plucks aside the blanket to slip himself underneath them nonetheless. It does feel better like this, though his feet will still take some time to warm up again. He glances aside at John, before down at his hands in his lap. Folded over the blanket as they are.

"John," Ianto says, quietly. "Is this. Alright? With you, I mean. Why are..." He lets out a soft sigh before he pushes himself to continue. "I hope that you aren't just doing this for my sake. Because I can. Technically they're still two separate beds, even like this..."

[impavid]

Is this alright? John turns slowly, t-shirt in hand, and gives Ianto a frown of confusion.

"You can what?" he prompts, then begins to pull on the t-shirt. "And if you're expecting me to go out there and demand a double you'll be disappointed. Use your imagination."

Of course they're technically two beds, what does that even mean? For that matter, why is Ianto trying to back-peddle out of this all of a sudden? After how hard he pushed earlier it's a weirdly mixed message.

[torchwoodteaboy]

It's not so much back-peddling out as just trying to feel the situation out and still trying to get a handle on what this really means to John. Though he supposes he could keep asking all night at this rate.

Momentarily bewildered by the other man's reply -- use your imagination? oh, about the double made of twins -- Ianto shakes his head in reply to the question, before forcing himself to answer it anyway.

"I can, you know. Stay on just the one." It's easier when there's a great crack of mattresses in the middle, after all.

[impavid]

He smooths the front of his t-shirt, the familiar panda face on it studying Ianto along with John's concerned hazel eyes.

"I mean that'd make shoving the beds together a waste of time, but if you've changed your mind go ahead."

Although it seems a very quick, uneasy change. Ianto had seemed pretty enthusiastic about the idea before, so presumably he's just... nervous? It's not like John really feels much more confident about the... general dynamic, but he can give this the good old college try. He can be... reassuring.

"I was kinda hoping you'd stay," he says finally. "Even though your feet are like ice blocks and you squirm."

[torchwoodteaboy]

I was kinda hoping you'd stay. Ianto doesn't really know how much he had needed the words until he's heard them. A smile quirking his lips at the next words even as relief floods through him at the first.

"Yeah, well," he replies. "Get used to it, I suppose. We're staying in a veritable ice hotel after all."

Ianto pauses a moment, before patting the bed beside him to invite the other man in. "Come on, then," he says, softly. "I'll try not to squirm," he shoots the other man a look at the word choice, "but these blankets won't be enough alone to keep warm."

[impavid]

"Good thing you've got me, then."

He sits on the bed and moves to slide under the covers, turns in toward Ianto and braces one hand the other side of him -- leaning into his space just enough to crowd him and lowering his voice to a playful whisper.

"I've been told I'm pretty hot, but I could always use a second opinion."

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto isn't really certain where this is going until John is leaning over him and whispering like that. Whispering what has to be one of the worst pick up lines Ianto has heard in a while, but he honestly wouldn't have it any other way. It's mad and perfect and utterly John, the ridiculous panda shirt and all.

"Is that so?" he asks, flicking his eyes up to meet the other man's, his lips quirking at the sides despite his better judgment, before he reaches a hand up to brace against the other man's shoulder. Just at the edge of his collar, curling his fingers just under the hem of the fabric. Playing his cool touch against the warmth of his skin below.

[impavid]

John squirms over onto his knees and straddles Ianto, lifts a hand to snag up the one Ianto isn't holding onto his collar with and encourages him to slide it under his t-shirt -- over the warm planes of his stomach.

"Well you are a researcher," he points out. "I'm hoping this will be a very scientific study. You'll need a control set to compare to, and we'll need to repeat the experiment a few times to make sure it's good -- possibly in a few different places to rule out any environmental factors."

The only sure way to know if John Sheppard is truly hot, of course. Hope you're taking this seriously, Ianto.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Oh. Ianto hadn't honestly been expecting this after all of John's earlier uncertainty on the matter, not for John's ridiculous little come-ons nor for the physicality that seems to be coming with it. He can hardly say that he's complaining, though he quirks an eyebrow to at least pretend he's putting up a good fight in questioning his reasoning.

Spreading his hand wide across the other man's stomach where John has directed it, Ianto strokes his fingers across his skin. His other hand slipping out of his collar to play against the back of his neck.

"Very scientific," he agrees, wryly.

[impavid]

"I appreciate the importance of data integrity."

He leans in and gently nuzzles at the side of Ianto's neck, slips his arms around the other man slowly.

"So what's your thesis, Jones? I'm expecting graphs and footnotes for this. A full bibliography of references."

References to what? John hasn't really thought it through but he's sure there's something Ianto can reference.

[torchwoodteaboy]

He tips his head to the side to allow the other man better access to his neck. This is -- nice. Better than nice, Ianto's not quite sure how or why John has started it now when they were supposed to be going to bed, but he'll take it.

"Research mission," he murmurs, sliding his hand up the line of John's torso to trace his fingers in idle patterns across the line of his chest. They may have been cool to start but John really is warm, and Ianto's hands are no doubt warming from the touch as well. "I might have known."

Ianto might be tired but the presence of John straddling his lap is doing a lot to keep that at bay. His heart feels like it's pounding a mile a minute in his chest as he slides his other hand up to tangle in John's hair. Pulling at it slightly, although certainly not to tug him away. "It may take me some time," he replies. "To be that thorough."

[impavid]

Because this is easy, far easier than the messy complexity of emotional conversations. This, John can do with barely a thought. Easy seduction is as second nature to John as breathing, and Ianto did want to be warm.

"We got time," he says, and John pulls back enough to touch his forehead to Ianto's -- moves one hand to brush along his cheek before pulling back to meet his eyes properly. "Just so you know," he adds finally, "I still think this is a terrible idea -- but, now it's officially your terrible idea. Not mine."

So, you know, don't blame him. He twitches a wry, teasing sort of smile.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto's eyes fall shut for the briefest of moments as John's hand brushes against his face before opening again to meet John's warm hazel ones as he pulls back. He brushes his fingers through the other man's hair, flicking him a smile in return.

"Oh, I see how it is," he replies. "Pinning all the blame on me so you can tell me that you told me so in case it doesn't work out? Well just for that, John Sheppard, I'm going to prove you wrong."

He tilts his head at the other man. Pausing a moment to simply keep stroking his fingers through John's hair and twisting him another softer, more private smile before he continues, "It'll be alright though. Even if this is a sinking ship, I know you'll keep my head above water."

[impavid]

That's a lot... softer and more earnest than John was prepared for. The playfulness fades from his expression to something hesitant, uncertain. He doesn't like that comparison, the idea that both of them may be drowning, even though he's thought it himself more than once. That he feels like he's treading water here, struggling to stay afloat. It's different including Ianto in that, though. He doesn't want Ianto to drown with him. I'd drown myself long before I let you go under, he thinks, but Ianto doesn't want to hear that. He probably already knows that, even. It's the wrong mood, here.

His hands slip down to brace Ianto's arms and he touches their foreheads together again, trying to steady both of them. Maybe it's at least good that Ianto thinks this way. That he knows they're sinking, even if it stings on some level to know he's given up denying that. What's he even going to prove wrong if he's accepting that they're drowning already? That hardly makes it seem like a good idea. Ianto's not a strong swimmer, in any sense of the word. He's easily overwhelmed, by waves and emotions both.

"Guess we need to work on getting you more swimming lessons," he manages finally, and his fingers squeeze at Ianto's arms gently. He doesn't even know who he's reassuring anymore, Ianto or himself.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto realizes that he's said something wrong from the moment John's expression falls. Which is really just his luck, here, considering how well it had been going, and how close they had been to getting this right. But whatever he'd just said -- however it had come across -- it hadn't gone well and certainly not as intended.

After a quiet moment he snakes his hand from where he's stilled it against the other man's chest to rest it gently against his back, shifting the hand in his hair to brush against his cheek. He's not entirely certain where it is that he's gone wrong but he feels it in the press of the other man's body against his and he'd prefer to at least try and make the attempt to redeem this. If he can...

"John?" he asks, softly. Not even bothering with addressing the metaphor or -- whatever it is anymore.

[impavid]

"We should get some sleep," he replies, because when does John ever slide easily into personal conversations? "It's been a long few days."

He catches the hand touching his cheek and pulls it away, pulls back and presses a quick kiss to Ianto's forehead before starting to slide off his lap. They're both tired, anyway, so this is probably a better idea. Maybe they can ease their way through whatever this is better once they're both properly rested.

[torchwoodteaboy]

No. No, no, no, this is wrong, all wrong, and Ianto feels his heart sinking as John presses his lips to his forehead and moves to pull away. Maybe they will have a better conversation on a decent night's sleep but Ianto doesn't think he'd manage one, not with so abrupt a change as that.

"Wait." He reaches for John's arm, moving to turn with him even after he's shifted his weight away. His blue eyes wide as he searches the other man's face for the exact point of distress. Doing a mad once-over of his words to find the crack there as well. "John, please. I can't. I can't always tell when I've got it right but I know bloody well when I've got it wrong. Please." He shifts his grip on the other man's arm down to clasp at his hand.

[impavid]

Tension snaps through John for a second as Ianto grabs him, a wave of bristly irritation that eases down slowly as he listens to him talk.

He turns back and watches Ianto's slide down to grasp his, processing slowly, then his eyes lift again.

"Ianto," he manages finally, "Take it easy, alright? You haven't done anything wrong."

Because he hasn't, not in John's opinion. It isn't his fault that John is still adjusting slowly.

[torchwoodteaboy]

"Haven't I?" he asks. Then why doesn't he feel as though he has? If he hasn't done anything wrong then why the sudden shift? Maybe he is too tired to handle this after all.

He searches the other man's face for a moment longer before he sighs softly. Glancing down at where he's got John's hand, squeezing it slightly and wishing he had the ability to be able to tell whether the other man was telling the truth or not. For now however he'll just have to trust him.

"Alright, well. Come on then," he says at last. "We're not going to get that much rest like this." He flicks his eyes up at the other man, one final glance to ask him one last time for -- permission? apologies? He's not really sure but he's hoping John will give it to him anyway.

[impavid]

"Yeah," John agrees softly, and he slips his hand free of Ianto's after squeezing it in answer -- shuffling the sheets and pillows around and sliding under as he wills the lights into dimming to nothing. He waits until Ianto is moving to settle himself before he reaches out for him, begins to pull him back into his arms so he can wrap them around him from behind. So he can begin to slowly soak body-heat into him.

"I just want you to be happy", he admits after a moment. It's easier this way, in the darkness when Ianto can't look at him.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto had been expecting the arms around him. He'd been expecting John's warmth, and his steady breathing pressed against his back in the dark. But he hadn't expected for the dimming of the lights to bring John's confession with it, and it takes him a slow moment to process — what to say or do in return. It's probably the first thing the other man has said at all about his own desires, and the fact that it's entirely about him...?

He moves to rest a hand on John's arm, stroking his fingers lightly over the skin there before he replies, "We've had a difficult time of things, the past few months. But this is where I want to be, John. You, and your... Obsession to make sure I don't get sunburned, and the way you let me sneak into bed with you even when it's too hot to think straight, and your..." He keeps his fingers trailing against the other man's arm. "Your obsession with cheesy fries and Johnny Cash. All of that makes me happy. Alright?"

He pauses a beat before adding, "I hope someday that you can be happy too." For he knows that for John that that's maybe easier said than done but that doesn't mean that he doesn't want it for him all the same.