(alright!)
Jack stumbled slightly as he finished appearing, staring at the man by the candle. He himself was just out of the candlelight, but if the man happened to look up, Jack would be seen. Jack tucked the time traveling device in his pocket, eyes darting around the room. Damn it! It was supposed to be empty! He thought, biting his lower lip anxiously. He wasn't sure what to do, now. The minimum cool down time for the device wouldn't be reached for another twenty minutes. He stepped back, and cursed inwardly as his foot hit something, a clatter echoing through the room.
Lincoln nearly leapt out of his skin, whipping around to the person in his workshop “who is it?!” He gripped the lit candle in front of himself to the source of the noise. He squinted, “How did you even get in here?” Was he waiting for me?
Blackwell turned tail and fled to a dark corner. He hunched his back and hissed at whoever it was, claws gripping at the concrete floor.
Jack bit his lip. "Ah…my name is Jack Morgan. As for how I got here…that's really, really complicated." He said slowly, peering at the figure. He couldn't really see the man well. It was a he, that much Jack knew for sure, from the body shape and the voice. Other than that…he wasn't sure. He didn't know who this person was, either. In all the historical records, this room was empty right now.
Lincoln took a closer step forward to him with the candle to at least see his face, “Why are you even here?” He further asked with confusion. No, more than confusion. This made no sense, he didn’t hear anything when he first came in. And then his expression softened to compassion with an idea, did this man need man help? The corner of his lip twitched, “Were you looking for a place to sleep or be out of the cold?”
Jack bit his lip again. Ohh this is bad. This is really, really bad. "I'm here because, well…" He sighed. "Damn it." He muttered, taking the hat off and taking a hand through his reddish hair. "I'm here because of complicated reasons. And no, it wasn't for a place to sleep or be out of the cold." On second thought, maybe it would have been better if that's what he said. But it was too late to take it back.
Lincoln’s expression became colder again as the dim candlelight flickered across his face. His eyes were a rich brown, accusatory and defensive “Are you trying to steal my inventions? My ideas?” He stole a quick glance to the papers and drawings on his wooden table, “What did you learn?” He pressed, taking a step closer to the strange man.
Jack held up his hands. "Woah woah, calm down." He said. "I'm not here for your inventions or ideas or anything of the sort. I didn't even know this place was yours." Whoch was true. He had no idea who this man was. Which wasn't a good thing. This all should have been in the historical records. That there was someone here. But there wasn't. Why? Worst comes to worst I stall him until the cool down time is over, and then vanish. He reassured himself.
Lincoln relaxed at the reassurance. This man didn’t seem like a threat anymore, just..confused maybe. He set the candle back down on his table and lit a few others, “So, Ah..what’s your name?” He side glanced to him, squinting to see the vague figure. Once his desk candles were lit, he went to the side of the room to light the lamps on the walls so he could hopefully see his strange acquaintance better.
(I won’t be active much today or tomorrow but I’ll answer as much as I can)
"Jack Morgan. And you are?" Jack asked, eyes following the man's movements. He reached into a pocket, gripping the "pocket watch" in one hand. It wasn't really a pocket watch, it was his time traveling device, cloaked to look like a pocket watch. He wasn't sure how to explain his presence if this man pressed for answers again. He couldn't tell the truth, but he wasn't sure he could make up a good enough lie.
(Ok, that's fine! I won't really be either)
(Sweet! I’m back!)
“Lincoln Egle,” he responded, eyes briefly glancing to the pocket. He didn’t think much of it, dismissing the suspicious thought, “Well..” If this man didn’t have any evil intentions, he might as well provide some hospitality, “Are you too cold? I can light the fireplace for you if you need.” He spoke, chin slightly tilted down and away, but his eyes stayed glued to his guest’s face now that he could see.
Lincoln felt a small spark of attraction in the pit of his gut. Jack’s hair, the curve of his jaw. Sodomy might be illegal, but you couldn’t get arrested for just looking.
(alright, awesome!)
Jack nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Lincoln." He replied. He shook his head. "No, but thank you." He said. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at Lincoln for a long moment. He bit his lower lip slightly. Hot damn, this guy was attractive. He sighed softly. But this was the 1900's. Being gay was…illegal, and heavily frowned upon, too. Often punished with…a lot of very painful things.
("Sodomy might be illegal, but you couldn't get arrested for just looking." I think that might be the best quote from an RP to date XD)
(Lol! I’m honored XD)
“You’re welcome.” He sank down into his chair, “You can stay here for the night if you need. I would hate to make a guest leave shelter into the cold night.” He offered, only half attentive while he gathered his papers and sketches into a neat pile on his desk.
(lol)
Jack shook his head. "Actually, i have…business to do." Investigating news of the Titanic, infiltrating the opening of a new museum, and stealing an artifact. Then back to 2113, all before this time tomorrow. Too much to do, too little time. He put his hat back on his head. "Uhm…which way is the door?' he realized only after he spoke that that was a very odd question to be asking.
Lincoln tilted his head and pointed to the wall adjacent to his desk, “It’s right there, sir. There’s a dock just a few yards away right outside too, so be careful. It’s pretty dark and you could, Ah, fall in.” He stifled laughter at the thought. He himself had almost done that too many times in the early, early morning when he was too tired to think.
Lincoln was lucky enough to find a workshop with a living area upstairs, which was conveniently located across from the Southampton dock. It was where the Titanic would arrive in April when it was finished being fitted, and Lincoln couldn’t wait to witness the massive beast.
Jack smiled, flashing white teeth. "Thank you, sir." He said, and started for the door. If he fell in, no big deal, the traveling device was waterproof. Of course, he wasn't, but he could swim. He'd be fine too. He closed the door behind himself, and exhaled. "That was close." He muttered. Luckily, Lincoln seemed too preoccupied with his inventions and papers to really press Jack for details. Thankfully. He pulled out the device. "Tip, search "Lincoln Egle"." He whispered into it. "Tip" was the name of the AI that helped with the time traveling, and accomplishing historical searches like the one he was carrying out right now.
(What exactly would you like "Tip" to be able to find, if anything?)
(Hmm just the basics
Inventor of the Egle Gear and company Altair Egle
Attended Oxford University
Born September 29, 1891
Died September 30, 1976
Cause of death claimed to be illness
Born to an Ethiopian mother and American father
No records of marriage, but raised a daughter named Michelle)
“You’re welcome, sir,” Lincoln shrugged and watched his guest leave before looking back to his desk. He fished out a sketch of a gear he’d been trying to work out. If he was lucky this gear would be able to be used in cars. He didn’t know how it could revolutionize the concept yet, but he would think of something along the way.
He reached to scratch the back of his neck at a budding headache.
(thanks!)
"Inventor of the Egle Gear and company Altair Egle. Attended Oxford University. Born September 29, 1891. Died September 30, 1976. Cause of death claimed to be illness. Born to an Ethiopian mother and American father. No records of marriage, but raised a daughter named Michelle." Tip recited after a moment. The annoying thing about Tip was that it just recited facts in a list, not bothering to string together actual sentences. Jack listened, and nodded. "Right…" He sighed softly. "And…cross reference him with this location." He told the AI. He was wracking his brain trying to figure out why he had been told no one would be here tonight, when in fact there was an inventor.
(Sorry to keep asking, but I don't want to make up things about someone else's character XD so…what might Tip find?)
( maybe he has no record being there because he's registered at a dormitory at Oxford but he's (illegally) staying at an abandoned warehouse that nobody's using instead? Would that work possibly?)
Lincoln's cat hopped up into his lap after he assessed the danger had left. The fluffy cat jumped up onto the table beside his papers, spreading out as he laid down.
Normally Lincoln would be annoyed at his cat for laying across his papers, but now he was preoccupied thinking about his visitor. Who was he, well, Jack Morgan, but who was he really? He tapped his pencil on the desk; would he ever get the chance to talk to him again? Or did he miss his chance?
(alright! Yup that works fine!)
"No results found." Tip said. Jack frowned slightly. "That can't be right. Check again." After a minute, Tip said, "No results found." Jack sighed. "But…check the ownership of this warehouse, this year, this month." He instructed. Tip searched. "Abandoned. All records show it was not in use at this time. In three months, it will be purchased by the Johnson Shipping Company, and they will use it for storage." Tip recited. Jack frowned. "Huh. Illegal squatter, then?" He wondered, taking off his hat to rake a hand through his red hair. "No wonder he was so worried."
(Ok cool!)
Lincoln sighed, setting down is pencil to stroke his hand across his cat's belly.
His cat curled around his hand and lightly bit his wrist, which only made Lincoln chuckle, "Silly cat." He freed his hand before pushing back his chair to stand.
The cat's eyes glowed an amber hue as Lincoln took the candle from the desk, leaving his furry pet in the dimmer light, "You hungry, furball?"
His cat only meowed back in reply, which Lincoln took as an affirmation.
Jack sighed, and started walking. "Mystery solved, have to keep moving." He muttered, putting the time traveling device back in his pocket. He had a time limit to the, and he had a lot to get done. First he had to check about the Titanic, then a new museum that would be opening soon. A private museum, the invitations would be exclusive. Which was why he would be pretending to be the affronted rich American, blustering and angry about not being allowed in without invitation. Eventually he would be allowed in. He always was.
Lincoln scooped out a can of preserved fish onto a plate for Blackwell and set it down to the ground, 'There's your dinner, pretty cat. I hope you appreciate it," he chuckled before heading to his bedroom to change into his nightclothes.
Anyone who knew anything useful about the Titanic would have to be in a government standing or position, or a very in-the-know engineer. The bustling streets had dwindled down the later the night became, down to a few stray rambunctious teenagers or insomniacs seeking to be distracted from their boredom by taking a walk down the dock. A few remaining store-owners, including fishmongers closed up their shops for the night, preparing for the early morning opening when the sun rose back up.
Jack sighed softly. He wasn't sure why his superiors had made him do this. The Titanic wasn't quite a common thing to know about yet,, and well…it would be very difficult to find any information. Which was, perhaps, the whole point. He sighed softly, and struck up conversations with random people. He left a few letters for higher ups that would know more about the ship, giving his mailing address as an empty building, in the ownership of the Time Travelers Corp. Any traveler could have their mail from the past delivered there, no questions asked.
Lincoln sank down in his dining chair while he watched his cat eat. He tapped his temple, thoughts now permanently tied to Jack. Would he be around town for long? Should he go try to find him now and invite him for dinner tomorrow. He grimaced, no, that might seem too stalker-ish.
Blackwell looked up to Lincoln once he finished is dinner, smacking his lips happily and licking his muzzle free of any leftover meat.
Jack sighed softly. He couldn't quite forget that Lincoln guy. Damn. Maybe it was just because it had been such a close call? Yes, that must be it. No way was it because of those brown eyes, or…Jack cleared his throat loudly, catching glares from nearby people. Yes. That was all. It was disastrous to try and be… anything, with someone from the past. It led to questions, and questions led to…so many different things. He couldn't tell anyone from the past who and what he was. Especially not someone like Lincoln Egle, with an established future. Someone who needed to remain in the path they were on.
