Jack Harkness || Death Four || Canteen

[cpt_51century]

[It had taken him almost a full day just to grow his skin back, like something here was hindering what ought to have been automatic.  It...  Was frightening, and relieving at the same time.  Maybe, if they get sucked into the black hole, he'll only be forced to survive for a few thousand years being pulled apart and reconnected over and over again

Comments

[voice]

[whatistheremore]

["Please do not panic." "Full evacuation recommended."

They were trapped on a sinking ship. That was the only way Horatio Hornblower could make sense of the situation. He'd holed himself up in his cabin for most of the previous days, venturing out when he needed food-- or his lieutenant insisted he did-- and when a few notes had caught his eye.

Mostly, he'd been focusing on the equations he'd gotten. "Escape velocity." He didn't understand everything, but between a bit of research on the computer and his own sense at mathematics, he thought he might be getting a handle on the numbers. What they meant, he didn't know. But perhaps he could take the figures to someone else.

...And then the strange device piped up with a familiar voice.]

Harkness?

[cpt_51century]

Well well well! Captain! Does this mean you'll end my loneliness?

[Silly to flirt over the comm like this, but what's Jack without an overly healthy dose of the stuff to slightly over the top levels? He's got this reputation of being a playboy to uphold!]

Let's see. We've got some powdered pasta and some powdered meat which I can likely make into balls. [No pun intended.]

Do you like Italian?

[whatistheremore]

[If Doughty ever fed him Italian food, he didn't name it as such. Granted, he wouldn't put it past the man.]

I don't believe I've ever tried their cuisine.

I'd be happy to do so, though.

[After all, it wouldn't do to refuse the offer when he'd suggested himself that they dine together.]

I'll meet you in the galley, then? [Galley. Canteen. Where the food is.]

[cpt_51century]

Here and waiting!

[Jack turned off the feed, grinning to himself, and turned back to the canisters of powdered food. He knew how these things worked. Little water, little powder, the proper dish and a bit of time in the machine and--

All right, it's still mush. But after a taste, Jack decides it tastes just fine. Good enough. If only they had drippy candles?]

[selfrespecting]

Jack...

This might sound a bit odd, but... have some of the ghosts looked familiar to you lately? [She's frowning slightly, but doing her best not to let on her own anxiety.]

[cpt_51century]

Familiar... How do you mean?

[He's been sleeping most of the day.]

[selfrespecting]

Yesterday they just looked like random people, but today some of them... I recognize them. They look like my family members or like people who I work with.

[cpt_51century]

Maybe it's just facial association. That happens when you're stressed out.

audio;

[not_the_pastry]

I will!

[And she's already on her way, despite not knowing who he is. Someday, being this outgoing is going to bite her in the ass.]