Inbox -- El Nysa

[doubledoctornocitrus]

●●●●○ THESA

RODNEY MCKAY
@phdphd (40), New Lantea

CONTACT

IGNORE

I WAS A: genius with minions. I'm now a relocated genius sans minions.

I'M SKILLED IN: Technology, Ancient and otherwise.

I'M LOOKING FOR: Tech I've never seen before that you don't want back.

ALSO, I'M: Irritated by the vast quantity of physics-violating objects and alcohols.

Video | Voice | Text

Comments

text; UN: J.SHEPPARD

[impavid]

So I'm pretty sure the dog is officially named Seren now, but she'll always be Princess to me.

Also we should really talk when you've got a minute.

[ THERE, PERFECT, JOB DONE good John can now mute his phone for like. Five hours! ]

[doubledoctornocitrus]

[The first bit makes Rodney snort. Sappy nonsense that Rodney will never in a million years admit he agrees with in the slightest. It's the second part that makes him narrow his eyes.]

Talk about what.

[Every second John doesn't reply ratchets Rodney's anxiety over what this 'talk' might constitute up another notch. What did they need to talk about? Rooming? Is he an Ianto getting a place and leaving Rodney in the slums? Is the dog taking his place? Does he need to dogsit? No, no, John would just ask that outright. Whatever it is, it's going to be bad.

Oh no.]

[impavid]

There's just some stuff you should know.

[ John replies about... five hours later, when he checks his phone at some painfully early hour after finishing his night shift.

Listen he still has a job, he needs to do his job, he's a bouncer and people need bouncing! ]

You got time later?

[doubledoctornocitrus]

Yes, yes, of course.

[The reply is desperately prompt. Five hours of Very Little Sleep and anxious stewing means that when his whasit plonks, he's already reading John's reply. He is half-certain he doesn't need to stew, but tell that to his highly-developed brain.]

When is later?

[impavid]

[ This is John, casually not checking the reply right away. Casually walking back from work first, getting changed, having a drink --oh, look, Rodney replied already? ]

Few hours? I need some sleep first.

[ This torture will not be over quickly, sorry Rodney. ]

[doubledoctornocitrus]

[Oh no you don't, John.]

You texted me yesterday like it was urgent.

[Yes. Yesterday, John. Like a monster.]

Have I been replaced by the dog? Are you dying of some horrible new disease?

[impavid]

[ Listen, he's been awake the whole time! It's not even 'yesterday' to him! ]

I'm not dying and Seren is only 12 weeks old, she doesn't even one phd and knows nothing about engineering.

[doubledoctornocitrus]

[He's mollified by that answer. Barely. Not enough that John gets to sleep yet, though.]

Good. But I'm at the Institute this morning.

I will show up at your door right now, don't think I won't.

[impavid]

[ This!! Is unfair!! He's just come off shift, he's had no sleep! He wanted to sleep first!! ]

It's too early you aren't allowed here, Ianto before coffee is like the beast before Belle softens him up.

text; UN: J.SHEPPARD

[impavid]

Hey.

Want to get a drink?

[ It's... 1pm, ish? Does this mean coffee or something else? John hasn't specified, who knows. ]

[doubledoctornocitrus]

Now?

[John might not have work, but Rodney likes to pretend.]

[impavid]

If you're not busy, or we can schedule for later.

[doubledoctornocitrus]

[Comparatively, no. No, he's not.]

Now is fine. Where?

[impavid]

There's a bar around the corner from Shades? I can meet you somewhere and walk there. Do you mind Seren coming?

[doubledoctornocitrus]

The bar allows dogs? Isn't that unsanitary?

[impavid]

No! She won't be in the kitchen or licking the glasses, Rodney, she'll just sit on the floor and probably beg for attention.

[doubledoctornocitrus]

If you're sure.

[There's OSHA for a reason, John. Well, there was.]

Meet you on the corner a bit past that cafe?

text - mid-december

[priorly]

Oh, physics-violating objects and alcohols. That's preaching to the choir. Can't stand them. Always picking fights in bars, getting rowdy on the streets. Spitting. Don't even start me on the non-newtonian fluids. Reprobates.

[doubledoctornocitrus]

I meant magic, or the magic-adjacent nonsense that this planet has to offer, but I won't have you slandering non-newtonian fluids. They are extremely vital to the simulations I'm not allowed to do in public anymore.

[priorly]

Oh? Where do you do them now, pay per view?

[doubledoctornocitrus]

If only someone would pay me for them, but this backwards little planet couldn't afford me if they tried.

[priorly]

Don't speak too soon, you have no idea how bored I find myself getting, some nights. Call me one rainy Tuesday and ask me how I feel about your vital viscous simulations.

This is Prior, by the way.

[doubledoctornocitrus]

You! You're the one who put your hands down my pants!

[Context is everything. He thought he'd recognized the avatar, if not the name.]

[priorly]

Well exactly, and then look what happens. You don't write, you don't call...

[doubledoctornocitrus]

I was not under the impression that it was that sort of encounter/relationship/heroic rescue.

But also I have been busy and forgot your name despite my every intention otherwise.