[Open/Closed] There is life outside your apartment...

[doubledoctornocitrus]

Who: Rodney McKay (doubledoctornocitrus) & Annie Walker (smithsonian), & TJ Johansen (stargatemedic), & Felicity Smoak (alergictonuts), & Ianto Jones (torchwoodteaboy), & Various/Open
What: November Catchall
When: Various dates in November
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): Rodney is basically his own warning. I'm sorry.



Evening, Olympia (Closed to Annie Walker)

"You!"


Apropos of Nothing (Closed to Felicity)

Are you planetside?

Do you have a roommate?


Re: Your Destiny. (Closed to TJ)

This time, Rodney avails himself of the tools he's given, and looks up 'Tamara Johansen' in the little social media applet that's been treating him surprisingly well. With her as a medic, he should have figured she'd work in a clinic, and it's convenient that she's actually in Olympia. And, well, it's also convenient that the clinic is in Olympia as well, because he's stopped off at the...healers(????) once or maybe twice and if Beckett had practiced mystic bullshit, this planet's idea of the medical arts is beyond the pale.

Regardless. Rodney shows up at TJ's work with a smile and asks for her specifically.


A Stopped Clock (Closed to Ianto)

Whereas Rodney had, prior to his discussion with John, resolved to be Nice(tm) to Ianto, the discussion had had the surprise side-effect of forcing him to realize he actually needed to make an effort. Conveniently, the cafe-like place within which the discussion took place has pretty good coffee, which is as good an offering as any. And...honestly...Rodney has next-to-no clue what Ianto is actually like or would actually like.

Which probably wasn't good, considering the whole vague hand-gesture-y situation.

Armed with cafe coffee not made by someone whose optimal brew was 'nearly caustic with pesticide levels of caffeine', Rodney attempts to hunt Ianto down using his vague recollections of things that weren't his work and were also people-related, all while nervously trying not to admit to himself that it's important to not fuck up this actual human relationship. It's not even his relationship, which is somehow worse, because if he fucks up then it's not him who is going to be suffering the most.

And so, Ianto, Rodney comes bearing one (1) gift.


Making a Racket (Open -- Thesean Starter Housing)

Rodney keeps odd hours, even considering that they're on new planet and sometimes it can take a while for daily circadian rhythms to synchronize with diurnal cycles. Which means he's up in the middle of the night and there's crackling noises and flickering light coming from beneath his door as he does the Mad Science thing. He's bound and determined to learn how to make this world's technology for himself--and then try and apply a bit of his own know-how to it. But to do that, he's gotta break some eggs. So speak.

It's just very, very late and the apartments aren't very far apart.


Wildcard (Open -- Anywhere)


[Poke me for a custom starter elsewise! I'll match brackets or prose. Plx plot with me. :D]

Comments

[doubledoctornocitrus]

Rodney peers at Ianto, eyebrows raised. "Yes, but a job isn't a hobby. That's a...a thing you do for money. I can't hardly imagine that working here is your life's calling any more than working at the Institute is going to satisfy me after calling Atlantis home."

No offense to the cafe. Rodney's sure it's lovely.

"Fine, though. No hobbies on record. Do you have a calling then? Are you going to stay here? You were, you were a..." Rodney was tipsy at the time, but he's a hundred times more likely to remember occupations than. Names. "Researcher. Torchwood. From that to coffee? Please."

[torchwoodteaboy]

No, a job isn't a hobby. Ianto's job used to consume his entire life and now that he's here in Nysa without it, he doesn't know what to do with himself. So no, Rodney, he doesn't really know what to tell you. He makes coffee. He takes care of John -- or tries to. But those aren't really the answers you're looking for.

He glances down at the drink in his hand, frowning at it before glancing away at the crowd around the cafe. Yes, Rodney. From Torchwood Field Agent, Archivist, everything in between, to a barista. Because he doesn't know what else to do with himself but he's got to do something to start helping John pay the bills.

He thinks of giving him a sarcastic answer -- it would serve him right for asking him such direct, personal questions. But he means well so in the end he replies, a bit hesitantly, "John has suggested that I... Re-purpose my skills from Torchwood and become a detective."

He does like digging around, solving puzzles, after all.

[doubledoctornocitrus]

...Ianto might be attributing more good-will to Rodney than is at all deserved. Of course, of all the answers to his question about calling, Rodney did not expect the one given to him. It actually makes him pause over his tablet and blink.

"Really?" A detective? With only a guard force and not a police force, that would mean that John had literally suggested to Ianto that he become sort of private eye. A—a Sherlock Holmes. Of all the things that could possibly utilize the skills of someone with organizing a clandestine organization on their resume. With a frown, Rodney asks, "Did he suggest it because of your accent?"

Without even a breath after the question, he adds, somewhat more thoughtfully, "That's...actually not a terrible idea, considering the aliens. Would they have been the hiding-on-earth kind?"

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto raises an eyebrow at the other man's question. Because of the accent. Because of the accent, Rodney, really? (Is that really why John would have suggested such a thing? No, it can't be. Even Rodney seems to recognize that he has some sort of investigative talents. 'Considering the aliens' indeed.)

"They were indeed the 'hiding-on-earth kind'," Ianto replies, airily. Forgive him, Rodney, but you are beginning to bring out his snark. "They were in fact the hiding-on-earth, wanting-us-dead kind. In one form or another. Some of them had a more complicated plan than the next. There were the ones who wanted us to mess with the rift in time and space and essentially bring about the fracturing of time itself. And then there were those who just wanted to eat our faces off. Frankly, I preferred the latter. Much less trouble in the long-run," he adds, raising his coffee and tipping back another bracing swallow. Should he really be drinking another establishment's fare in his workplace? Probably not. Does he care at this point. God no.

[doubledoctornocitrus]

"Wanting us dead, well. That's familiar," Rodney says, not even registering the snark. He gets that tone a lot. It's never impacted him before and it's probably not going to start now. "I can't say that I prefer the 'eat our faces off' kind, but it does make things a lot more simple. Time travel and...time anything, really, just takes so many resources and you really never have enough."

A note on his tablet now that they're back on track.

"So that's 'detective work' as a long-term goal." He gives the tablet a satisfied nod, then looks up at Ianto with that same satisfaction. His coffee offering had been accepted. "Good. Yes, well. I don't want to keep you too long, so just one more question."

He narrows his eyes and then asks, "Why John?"

And yes. The face he's wearing? He's definitely going to judge the answer.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Well, that's very well and good, as Ianto's definitely going to give Rodney his own face in return.

Why John? Does he really want the answer to this question, or is he asking out of some misguided sense that he ought to protect his friend from -- what exactly. Him? He doubts that -- no, he knows that he's not exactly what one might picture John going for, but. Is it really that difficult to imagine? That John might be interested in him too?

Ianto's face goes through another somersault of emotions before he picks up his coffee and takes a sip of it to hide behind for a moment and gather himself once more. God help him, does he even need to answer Rodney's question? What if his answer isn't good enough?

What if he isn't good enough.

"He believes in me," he says, finally. "It's who he is. A giver. From the first day I met him, he's been nothing but supportive and -- kind to me." He glances back up at Rodney in turn. "But you know John. He'd give you the shirt off of his back if he could." He twitches the other man the hint of a smile. "I'm just trying my best to make sure he's got another spare for himself again, if you catch my meaning."