[Rodney frowns, taking in Peter's general appearance. For a moment he wonders; the black T and the cargo pants aren't unfamiliar and he searches his memory for the military personnel on base. But there are so many people on Atlantis and he definitely doesn't bother memorizing all their faces. Especially not of the grunts that he files away under people who prevent me from getting shot.

And now he's reading the letter which is so fifteen minutes ago. Rodney tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling, his hand making an impatient, circular gesture along with the tapping. Come on, come on, come on.]

Unknown entity called the Mayor has us trapped in this room, probably a simulation, maybe traveled through space and time, door doesn't open until we Rorschach our erythrocytes on it.

[There, does that speed things up?

Except then Peter mentions murder and that stops him short. His mouth opens, closes.]

You could but seeing as I am your best bet at figuring out what is actually going on here, that would be incredibly stupid and short-sighted.

[There's a pause, a hesitation as his eyes dart over at him again. He knows that tone and not-actually-serious-threat from his team and he thinks he'll be fine but...]

So don't. Murder me. It's very counter-productive.