"Jack?" Lincoln called after a few moments, gradually walking closer where he heard the voice, "Is that you? It's really cold out here.." He pulled the coat collar farther up his face over his mouth and nose. Was he talking to someone? Not that that was a problem, but…he hoped he wasn't busy at least.
Blackwell poked his head out beside Lincoln. His ears twitched in offense to the cold.
Jack jumped when he heard Lincoln's voice. "Huh? Oh, uhm…yeah, it's me. Need something?" He asked, tucking Tip back into his pocket. He would have to figure out this dilemma later. He couldn't risk Lincoln seeing…or could he? He remembered that Lincoln was an inventor, maybe…maybe he could help? No, he was getting ahead of himself. It was best not to ask someone from the past for help. Would lead to complications.
Lincoln shook his head, “No, I’m quite alright. But what about you? Are you lost?” He lifted up a hand to pet his cat’s head. “I was just out on a midnight stroll when I bumped into you again.” That wasn't true: Lincoln had gone out purposefully in hopes of finding Jack, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He stuffed his other free hand in his coat pocket.
Jack sighed softly. "Actually…" He shrugged. "I'm not lost, just…the place I was supposed to stay for the night…turned me out." He said. A half lie. He couldn't get home, but he certainly couldn't tell the whole story of what was happening right now. He bit his lower lip slightly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. He shivered slightly, and pulled his coat tighter against the cold.
Lincoln frowned, but at the same time he felt a flicker of hope , “Oh, well. I happen to have an extra bedroom in the living area above my workshop. You can stay there for the night if you wish, if you need. I’m sure Blackwell and I will enjoy the company. We don’t get many visitors,” he chuckled, sending puffs of visible hot air around him into the cold.
Jack hesitated for a moment, thinking. "I…that would be–lovely, thanks." He said with a small smile. He cursed inwardly. He had almost said "awesome", which was a slang term that hadn't yet come about in 1912. Then he raised an eyebrow. "Is Blackwell…the cat?" He asked slowly. He really hoped it was the cat, and not another person.
“Wonderful, and indeed,” the man laughed heartily, “I live alone except for my cat.” He took a few steps back and turned back towards the warehouse. He glanced behind him to make sure Jack followed.
Blackwell decided it was too cold and dipped his head back into the coat.
Jack nodded. "Alright." He followed Lincoln, pulling his coat tighter around himself as a particularly cold gust of wind blew up. "Thank you, Mr Egle." He said, not sure if he should use Lincoln's first name or not. "I can pay you for this." He said. And he could. He had enough money with him to get by for a while.
“No need,” Lincoln shook his head again, “What did you say your last name was again? Pardon my informality earlier; your surname slipped my mind.” He turned his head to give him a sideways glance. He rolled his shoulders back a bit to stretch, the cold having made his muscles stiff.
"Morgan." Jack replied. "Jack Morgan. You can just call me Jack, I don't mind." He said with a small smile. I really don't mind when attractive people use my name. He thought to himself, biting his lower lip slightly.
“Well, then,” he smiled, “You can just call me Lincoln, as well. Or if we really want to be personal, Link is good too,” he chuckled, looking back forward to make sure he didn’t slip off the dock and into the water, hah, that would be embarrassing. He snickered at the thought. What would Jack do? Would he jump in with him? Nah…
Jack nodded. "Alright." He said, adjusting his coat again. He glanced over at the docks. The water would be cold tonight, that was for sure. Would get hypothermia rather quickly, no doubt.
After a short walk, he eventually made it to his warehouse door. He used the key to unlock the heavy-bolt door and stepped inside out of the way to let his guest in, holding the door open for him. “Do you need anything?” He asked, “Anything to eat? Nightclothes?”
Jack hesitated. "Well…some nightclothes might be nice, please." He said, fiddling with Tip in his pocket for a moment, then pulled his hands from his pocket, and took off his hat, holding it.
“Of course,” Lincoln lit the lamps to illuminate the room around them. He shed his coat and hung it on the coat hanger beside the door, “I’ll be right back,” he grinned and dipped his head.
Blackwell leapt out from Lincoln’s coat just before he took it fully off and ran to his dark corner of the room.
Jack smiled. "Alright. Thank you." He took off his coat, and looked around for a moment, before hanging it on a hook beside Lincoln's, hanging his hat on top. He pulled Tip out of the coat pocket, putting it in his pants pocket. He pulled it out again, frowning slightly. "Come on, Tip." He murmured. "Work for me?" He asked softly. Tip was silent for a long moment. Then, just as Lincoln was coming back, it said loudly, "Cloaking features failing." It's form shimmered and changed from a pocket watch to another device. Still small, but obviously not anything that belonged in the early 1900s. Jack swore.
(By the way, starting late tomorrow and going through Friday, I most likely won't be on much, if at all, bc I'll be busy)
(Ok! I’ll probably be busy too)
Lincoln returned with an old beige undershirt of his he didn’t wear anymore and a pair of sleeping pants, “Will these work?” He held them out to him. He tilted his head at the small contraption, “What in the world is that thing? If you don’t mind my asking.”
(ok!)
Jack nodded. "Yeah, it'll work." He said with a small smile. He hesitated, biting his lip and looking from Tip to Lincoln. "Damn it." He muttered. "So…this is Tip." He held up the device. "It is…very complicated." He said, biting his lip slightly. He held Tip gently. He hoped he could figure out a way to fix the little machine.
He set down the items in a nearby chair, fascinated by the little machine, “What does it do? How does it work?” He held out his hand, just hovering over it without touching it, as if asking permission to hold it. His expression lit up like a child seeing a bag of candy or a new toy. He practically shook with excitement and curiosity.
Jack bit his lip again. He looks adorable… He thought, and he pushed the thought away. "Er… it's a…" He hesitated. "You can't tell people." He said slowly. "And technically, I'm not supposed to tell you, but…it's a time travel device." He said. "How it works is…very complicated." He said. "You can hold it." He handed Tip to Lincoln gently. Tip was silent for a long moment, then suddenly said, "You aren't supposed to show me to people, Jack." It said. "Especially not explain me." The little AI almost sounded like it was reprimanding Jack. Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know. But…he might be able to help fix you." He told the machine.
(bump. Not meaning to be rude, I just bump after a few days of inactivity)
(Np, I was pretty busy with school and wouldn’t be able to write a good, descriptive reply so I waited until the weekend
Now I can! :) )
Lincoln pulled the strange machine close to his face to examine it, turning it over in his hands. He was completely and absolutely enthralled at how it could talk, and understand language. “I guess I can see if I can fix it. How does it work and what does it do?” He looked back up to Jack. “This is incredible,” he laughed excitedly and went to go sit down at his desk where his tools were. He turned Tip over on its back to try and find and opening.
(alright! Awesome! :) )
Jack came over, leaning against Lincoln slightly so he could point things out. "Let me see." He said. He tapped a few buttons, and the back panel slid open, exposing a mess of wires. "I have the instruction manual…" He trailed off, clicking a few more keys on the device, and a holographic manual and plans appeared. "It works using, er…I didn't actually make it, so…I don't know. All I know is that it punches a hole through time and stitches it together. Like…like making clothes. It pulls two pieces of fabric together, except in this instance, it's not fabric, it's time. And I'm the thread, poking through from one time to a different one." He said slowly. "This device is the needle."
Lincoln listened with half belief and a sliver of doubt. He started laughing as he stared at the holographic images and heard a logical explanation for time travel. “No…” he smiled, “No, that’s not possible, you’re fooling with me.” He tried to touch the hologram, but of course his hand just went right through, “This is incredible,” he said again, “Technology beyond my intelligence. Beyond my professor’s intelligence!” He looked more at the mess of wires, “Tell me, what time did you come from? When were you born?”
"I'm from 2113, I was born in 2092." Jack replied with a small smile. "And no, I'm not joking." He reached out again, tapping a key on the device, and the hologram zoomed in on the same area of wires that were visible on the back. "I'm just…stuck. Two of the wires have failed, along with the chaos handler." He explained. "The chaos handler is for keeping me in one piece, basically. If it doesn't work correctly, I might get left behind somewhere on the journey between this time and my own, drifting forever in…blank nothingness." He shrugged slightly.
“Wow…” he scratched the back of his head, “I might not have the right tools for this but I suppose I could see..” He opened a few of his drawers to find and take out his toolbox, “There is a real possibility I might break it even more. But I’ll do my best.” He took out a clamp small enough for the wires.
Jack nodded. "I can contact the Corps for new parts, but…" He sighed softly. "Admittedly, they don't like me very much, so it might take a while." He looked around. "Is there room for me to sit down anywhere?" He asked, looking back at Lincoln. Tip made a soft chirping sound, but didn't say anything.
“Hm…” Lincoln tapped the table in thought, still looking at Tip. “Oh,” he registered the question, “Yes, there’s an old sofa over there but if you want to get ready for bed I have clothes in my wardrobe in my bedroom upstairs. Farthest door down the hallway on the right. Across from that is my washroom. Use whatever you need. There’s more comfortable seating up there.”
"No, i meant sit down here." He replied, biting his lip. "So I can help out with Tip." He looked at Lincoln. Also, he was sort of nervous about borrowing clothes. They would smell like Lincoln, most likely, and, well…Lincoln was attractive. He wasn't sure he wanted to put them on until he was in private. Didn't want to make a mistake.
Lincoln nodded in understanding, about wanting to help with Tip. He was completely unaware Jack actually had interest in him too. “Of course. There’s a chair like mine over by the fireplace,” he gestured over to the other side of the room. He looked over to Jack for a moment, inwardly glad that Jack had accepted his invitation to spend the night, but also anxious that he might make an utter fool of himself.