"Hovercouches?" Jackson asks, grinning. He brushes sand off his own clothes and shakes his head vigorously to get it out of his hair. If Jono is looking for something future-y, there's something like an energy field acting as threshold just inside the door, blocking sand from being blown into the flat proper. It doesn't block anything else, though, and Jackson steps right through it into what appears to be the living room.

"It's not much, though," he admits.