how to wrap a cat [OPEN]

[charismatic]

Who: Will and ~*you*~
What: Running errands, doing inadvisable things at work, drinking, dancing, etc.
Where: He works out in Serpolet and lives in Mog Hill but wherever works. Just specify a time/place when you tag in.
When: All this week and bits of last week.
Notes: IF YOU WANT TO WORK OUT SOMETHING MORE SPECIFIC/A DIRECTION/WEVS, just poke me on plurk or something. Be prepared for a lot of unnecessary capslock. Also, there is no cat, I was just watching this video.
Warnings: None as yet!

He's starting to settle in, as much as anyone can settle in, here. He's got a job he enjoys and an apartment he doesn't mind and maybe a couple friends. Will figures he's doing reasonably well for himself. Everyone knows him down at Tinker's Lot now, his neighbors don't bother him, and he's starting to piece together his favorite places to go to blow off steam.

So he learns the train routes and schedules, he goes shopping occasionally, and he gets used to mundane things like carrying a messenger bag and having hard currency. Nothing seems too jarring when everything is wrong, and Will's adaptable. If he focuses on the immediate problems of livability and keeps himself reasonably occupied, he's fine. Things start to look familiar.

He doesn't so much ignore the tension underneath as set it aside, put it away for later. There's not much he can do about it now, and he's a practical soul. If he wants to get to a place where he can, he needs to have his feet firmly under him and a clear head. Hitting up dance clubs doesn't always help with that, but a guy's allowed his vices, right?

Comments

[controlledvariable]

"So you just had to write 'quick and stupidly daring' on your resume?" She was gonna leave off the -ly daring but she doesn't know him well enough to tease that meanly yet. "What did you do back home? It sounds like it must've been fun."

[charismatic]

“Fighter pilot,” Will says, because that's about accurate and takes less explaining. He can add the space bit later to see her reaction. “They don't really ask for references around here,” he adds. “Just if you're in good physical shape and have experience driving large machines.”

[controlledvariable]

"That's awesome, and would be a good way to get experience," she will stop being awed by Will's life soon, but probably not for a while, especially if he mentions the space thing, "My friend had a jet, but it was one of those I'm super rich and I need my own private jet sort of things so I never got to fly it."

[charismatic]

“I knew –“ dated, whatever, “– someone with one of those.” He did get to use it, though, even if he hadn't gotten to drive. “It was only planetside, though, so it wasn't that fun anyway.”

[charismatic]

“Sort of. More like I'm lucky they didn't require a longer commitment, considering how long I was in school.” He'd been pressured to stay, of course. But he hadn't had a reason to. Will waves a hand. “It was a high-aptitude draft type thing. I got sent in when I was thirteen.”

[charismatic]

“Seems like that would make it worse,” Will says. It would drive him crazy, at least. The downtime out in the field was always the worst, because it was impossible to predict if, when, or how it would end. Well. They generally knew it would end badly, he supposes. He leans his elbows on the bar. “What do you do to keep from –“ clawing your face off probably isn't an appropriate of phrase, “– turning into a bundle of nerves?”

[charismatic]

“I don't have any of them,” Will says, slightly bemused. “People around here are making plenty of stuff that's supposed to fly, though.”

[controlledvariable]

"I'll get to fly it one day, even if I have to hold him hostage," She is only partly joking; she'd totally hold Tim hostage. And she totally noted that planetside, "Are you one of the space people?"

Yes, space people is the correct phrase. Good work, Steph.

[charismatic]

“Yes,” Will says, delighted. “You've met other ones?”

[captaincocksure]

"That's still pretty damned impressive." Jim finishes his drink, signals the bartender for another, and turns to Will with raised eyebrows--him too?

"So what do you do here in Baedal? Besides being a good Samaritan?"

[charismatic]

Will nods in response to the non-verbal query. Sure, he can have another one. He's done with work for the day. “I work out at Tinker's Lot,” he says, taking another swallow of his drink. He's not quite done yet but it won't be much longer. “Test pilot.”

[controlledvariable]

"That's so cool," someone really needs to take Steph up to the Watchtower one day so she stops fangirling about space so much, "I talked to a woman on the network who was from the future and she lived on a not-Earth planet, and there's a guy who's a starship captain back home."

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan laughs, then tilts his glass of whiskey toward Will. "Generally this."

[wingwalker]

Xas drums his fingers against the metal beneath him, lips pursed until he asks, "Where do they get the parts?"

Maybe he should think about finding a job after all.

[captaincocksure]

...Which sounds like the best job, ever. "Test pilot. Color me envious. Are you building your own air or space craft? Or testing one for someone else?"

[charismatic]

"Around here, mostly," Will says, amused. "You can pick up scrap pretty easy if you go out to the edges and dig a lot. But you'll probably have to buy anything more advanced than that." Unless this guy has a better (any) grasp of the magic thing. Then maybe he can make an enchanted plane out of scrap metal or something.

[charismatic]

“For other people. I don't have much technical expertise, I'm afraid,” Will says. “They're building all kinds of stuff out there. Most of it doesn't fly, though. Some of it blows up.” And he enjoys that, too, but anyway.

[charismatic]

“I knew there had to be other people out there.” He grins, hopping over a stray bit of debris protruding out into the path. Someone should fix that. Anyway. “Most of the people I've met so far have been really surprised to hear about space.”

[controlledvariable]

"Space travel ism't huge in my world, but we have experience. We have people from space, but they mostly do the superhero thing, so they don't mix with the general population much," Steph's best friend is an alien, but that's sort of a secret, "And there's a space police that have a few operatives on Earth, but again, they're a special case."

[captaincocksure]

"...Do they need any more test pilots?"

This is possibly the worst idea ever.

Which means Jim thinks it sounds fantastic.

(Right about now, somewhere in the city, Dr. Leonard McCoy has a headache and he doesn't know why.)

[charismatic]

"Yeah, sure," Will says. He's at the point where he has more offers than he can fit into a day, so he's not particularly concerned about having some competition. Actually, it'll probably be nice -- he always does the best when he's being pushed. "I'm a freelancer. I can introduce you to a few people out there, if you want."

[charismatic]

"Ooh," Will says, considering. "We don't really have superheroes. Just soldiers." Which aren't the same thing at all, whatever he might have thought at 18. But there aren't any people who can fly without machines at home, either, or with -- whatever powers some people have, around here.

[controlledvariable]

"It's kind of my world's thing, apparently. Not a lot of other people here had them, unless they're in comic books," It's really weird, one of the things that makes her feel so out of place in Baedal because she grew up idolizing Superman and Wonder Woman, and it's odd to imagine people who didn't have that.

[captaincocksure]

"That'd be great," Jim replies, and if the enthusiasm of that reply doesn't clearly convey his sense of this is awesome, the wattage of the accompanying grin surely must. "Thank you. I'd appreciate that."

It's been a while since he's done anything dangerously exciting. He's overdue.

[wingwalker]

"Oh," Xas says, surprised. Pleased, too. He'd thought he'd have to buy everything, but he can dig. He has enough time on his hands. And this is some of the best news he's had since he arrived. He leaps down, landing with less grace but no more noise than a cat, and smiles. "What's your name?"