(no subject)

[againsttherules]

Jack's been around since he came in.

He took a room that evening, because it was easier than anything else. Since then, he's been in and around, keeping up with his PT outside (He hasn't yet found the gym), even when the snow came.

Today, PT has meant a Snowball fight, rather than anything hugely strenuous, but it raised his heart rate and kept it up.

So, when he comes in, he's shivering and cold, so he heads over to the fire to have a dinner of Steak and Ale Pie.

Later on, he can be found with a 747 Manual, still by the fire, flicking through it.

Comments

[stuck_mynock]

Atton would steal that 747 Manual, but it's actually something he'd be vaguely interested in, which totally defeats the point of theft.

(He has, himself, just come back from the gym, dressed in a loose pair of longish shorts and a t-shirt, rubbing a towel over his hair.)

He does, however, hop up onto the back of the chair and perch there to read it over Jack's head. Because that's not unnerving at all.

[againsttherules]

Of course it does.

Jack notices the shadow before than the man, currently engrossed as he is in a section on taking off.

"'evening," he says as the shadow pauses.

[stuck_mynock]

"Evening," Atton says mildly, settling down on his haunches to read.

[againsttherules]

Jack glances at his new reading companion. It's that guy. Right.

He has to admit, he's surprised Atton's that interested in this, so there are just a few raised eyebrows as he keeps reading at his own pace.

[stuck_mynock]

"Earth starfighters are so low-tech," Atton says, a bit reproachfully. "They're practically pedal-powered. S'silly."

[againsttherules]

"It's not a starfighter. It's not sealed against vacuum." Low pressures, sure, but not vacuum. Never mind how it gets the Oxygen to burn as fuel.

[stuck_mynock]

Triumphantly: "See? Low-tech. Can't even vacuum-seal things."

[againsttherules]

"Hey, we can! We've made it to the moon. This model just doesn't need to be."

Because, you know, it's not meant to.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton snickers.

"Oh, you made it to your moon. Real impressive."

[gorgonfondness]

"Hello again," calls the woman from the makeshift fortune telling stand as Jack makes his way to the fireplace. "How are you doing?"

[againsttherules]

"Better than I was, thank you," he replies, pausing to talk.

[gorgonfondness]

"Good. I don't think we ever really introduced each other last time. I'm Mia."

[againsttherules]

"No, we didn't. I'm Jack. Good to meet you."

He glances at her sign.

"I think I know what I've got coming, short term, anyway." It might be a good test!

[gorgonfondness]

"That might help me figure out if I'm getting any of this right," she says a little hopelessly before closing her book. "I've never tried any sort of scrying before. But it's what has to be done at work."

Mia glances at the crystal ball, seeing if it's picking anything up she can see.

"What are you interested in?"

[againsttherules]

"Well, I anticipate my next hour or so, once I go out the door, to be rather awkward. I'm not sure when I'm going to be leaving here, though."

Probably when he's finished the manual? Maybe.

[gorgonfondness]

Mia taps the crystal ball before pulling the color-coded chart closer to her.

"I think this thing says you'll be well-grounded for what lies ahead. Or you're down-to-earth. I'm not too sure."

She's wondering if she'll need a bigger disclaimer on her sign.

[againsttherules]

Jack considers. "Does 'not killing the commander who left me for dead because it's not worth the Dishonourable discharge that would entail' count as down-to-earth? Because, otherwise? I'm not seeing it."

Although, who knows... Maybe.

He sees a take off in his future. Aeroplane.

[no_more_hiding]

Hank's been about himself...no really. He's currently enjoying a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese when he spots Jack and his manual.

[againsttherules]

Jack notes Hank on one of his glances round, but damn, this is...

No, he can't claim it's interesting, but it will certainly be useful if he has to do this himself.

[no_more_hiding]

And to Hank that book would be interesting.

"What year is that from?" He asks unable to help himself. He's spent time in flight simulators for a variety of air craft, even flew some, and the 747 was a pretty solid ride.

[againsttherules]

Jack looks up to check it is Hank who's talking.

"I'm not quite sure, I got it from Bar. But I doubt these things change much over the years. I hope they don't, as I intend to try to fly one in 1991 using this as my guide anyway."

The mun would be impressed if Hank's flown a 747, given the initial design request from USAF didn't go out till 1963. Then again, the SR-71 Blackbird never officially flew till 1964, well after the missile crisis of '62 so who knows how it went in Hank's world.

[no_more_hiding]

Well it was a prototype and rather bare bones.

"I wouldn't be able to say. I know in my time basic controls have changed much. More like new instrumentation is added to the old. Though there are some cases where new technology replaces old. Do you know how to fly?" That would make flying from a manual much easier.

[againsttherules]

"I know the principles, but I've never actually done it."

So, no, sorry.

If it's any consolation, the manual seems to be (as all these things have to be, for legal-cover-my-corporate-ass reasons) virtually an 'idiots guide to how to fly a 747'. In a lot more detail.

[no_more_hiding]

"Oh," Hank says, "It's not that hard really. I've booked a lot of hours in simulation and have flown a couple prototypes. In my opinion the most challenging aspects are the take off and landing."

[againsttherules]

Jack leans in a little, in a conspiratorial manner.

"Fancy trying one that's at least a decade older than that?" Jack asks.