singillatim | he's got that dog in him

"Not a fan, huh? But you know, I'd like to eat fish again too sometime. I wonder how many feathers one would be worth? Trading can be another good way to work together, I think."

Makoto shrugs too, but it's light. He could probably fish, with patience greater than Hickey's. But he doesn't know much about doing it either, and scary things have come out of the lake so he's not too keen on risking that much to fish. Makoto's running list of skills to eventually learn grows again.

"If you're looking for a fishing rod, hooks, something like that, check out du Lac's general store. The man's a prick," so says Hickey's entirely unbiased opinion, "but he's a good businessman. Even if you piss him off, he'll give you a fair deal if you're trading something."

Case in point: he's managed to work with Hickey, a man who isn't hiding in the tone of his voice how much he doesn't like Louis (it's a lot, Louis sucks).

Makoto nods, looking Hickey over until that general store thought is complete. A bit of a lopsided grin creeps up on him before he asks, "... So, what'd you do to piss him off?"

"I wish I had a fun answer," Hickey responds, matching that lopsided grin with a smirk of his own. "Du Lac's just a prick. I'm not the first person he's gotten into an argument with, doubt I'll be the last."

"Me too." Makoto jokes back, but there isn't any actual disappointment in his tone. "Sounds like you're right. But don't worry, I'm used to dealing with guys like that. Comes with doing business in any world, I guess."

His smile turns polite, almost innocent, only a beat before asking, "So, know if he has any pet peeves?"

His pronunciation of "pet peeves" says that is not a term he's used often enough to sound smooth saying.

Stealing? Breaking and entering? Being a prick? Hickey just being Hickey? It's less that Louis has pet peeves and more of the fact that Hickey is a complete asshole.

"Just treat him professionally at the start of it," Hickey shrugs. "Keep things business focused and everything'll be fine."

Makoto's impression has been skewed by Billy and this whole teaching excursion. That and the fact that he hasn't seen or dealt with Hickey being an asshole firsthand yet.

"You know--That, I'm good at." he even has the gall to punctuate it with a wink. "Oh, hey, I never asked what kind of work you did before this place, did I?"

Murder, mutiny, and identity theft.

"I was a sailor," Hickey answers, with a little nod. "That's how Billy and I met. We sailed on the same ship together, ship called HMS Terror. Things...went south after a bit. Here's a thousand times better, if only because we've got some bloody space."

Your patience with your crewmembers gets lost very quickly when there's sixty or so of you crammed in very tight living spaces.

Edited 2024-08-31 16:09 (UTC)

"Well, this place isn't as cold as the arctic either. Probably. Less weird polar bears too."

Makoto says it lightly like a joke, but doesn't really want to dwell on whatever happened with the "irregular" bear Billy told him about before. Moving on--

"Were you and Mr. Gibson both sailors, then? Does that mean you did the same kind of work? Sorry, I don't know much about how boat crews worked back then."

"Nah, don't worry, I'm the same. I didn't know much about how boat crews worked before I joined up." Before he killed a man and stole his identity to take his place on the voyage, but sure. 'Joined up.'

"I was caulker's mate. That means it was my job to help patch up holes and repair things around the ship. Billy was the lieutenants' steward. He helped out the officers on Terror."

"Oh, I see." Makoto nods along, filing things away. Caulk for car engines, caulk for an old boat, it makes simple sense to him at least. Good thing he isn't interested in having a professional talk about the intricacies of engine vs marine caulking.

"Then what made you want to join up? That doesn't sound like an easy job either, even for a resourceful guy like you."

He needed to get out of London. No matter what, he couldn't stay there any more. He needed to leave by any means necessary.

Plus, there's the whole 'planning to desert in the Sandwich Islands' thing. Hickey's smart enough to keep that to himself right now.

"Have you ever been to London? Boring as all hell. I wanted to get out of there, wanted to see anything different. The Arctic might not have been ideal but the thought was once we got out of there, we'd swing back down to the tropics. I'd have liked to see that."

"Yeah, I have actually. Worked at an art auction house there for a while."

Makoto is also smart enough not to mention those auctions were part of a con job.

"Was that your first time out of London then?"

"It was," he nods. There's a moment where Hickey lets some of his true irritation shine through as he grumbles, "Didn't expect to be frozen in the Arctic for three bloody years. I'd have picked a different job if that were the case."

Getting out of London was top priority. But at the same time, he'd greatly prefer not freezing to death.

Makoto is nodding along again, commiserating with Hickey's irritation by the tone of his hum in agreement. After a beat of a delay, the words catch up with him and he nearly stumbles again.

"Wait." Makoto looks over to Hickey as he regains his footing, "Three years? Wow, that sucks."

That is some earnest shock from Makoto right there. And he's a little more blunt with his words than he usually is, but it's easier to do around Hickey than most.

"But, uh. At least you're here instead now though, right? That's something." his optimism still shines through, despite the tentativeness.

Hickey can't help but let out a little chuckle at that. It sucks? Absolutely it sucks. But it's so nice to hear that someone else agrees with the assessment that it sucks.

"That is something," Hickey admits. "And frankly? I'm planning on staying here as long as humanly possible. Even if people find a way to go back to our worlds, I'm not taking it."

"Can't really blame you there. I'd go back home, of course."

Makoto says it confidently, but what follows is a heartfelt sigh. The sort that someone would reserve to express longing for someone they love.

"...Man, I really miss good coffee." is what wistfully comes out instead of any pining for a spouse. A moment later, he blinks and snaps out of that reverie.

"Oh. Hey, if it was ever possible, would you and Mr. Gibson want to come to my world instead? Probably not going to happen, but who knows? My world might have its flaws, but it's way better than this place."

Hickey's immediate answer is no. Why would he want to go from this place, which is hard and tough but he didn't have laws and rules and other people's judgement over his head, to somewhere else where he'll have to abide by societal rules that he doesn't even know?

But the sensible part of his brain takes over and points out that he barely knows anything about Makoto's world. So he might as well ask,

"I'm not making any promises. But tell me about it. I don't know much about where you're from, after all."

"Well, I'm from Earth like you. Only it's the year 2020. Or, it was when I left at least."

Makoto glances over to Hickey again with a little laugh, gauging his reaction to that much. But he goes on, openly sounding equal parts proud and reminiscent.

"Anyway, I don't think there's a perfect world out there, but mine is the kind of place where you can worry more about living rather than just surviving, if you know what I mean. Plenty of countries are safe with nice people and lots of opportunities. Of course, there are places that are more, um, adventurous if you're into that."

A shrug, tone going pointedly flat. "We've also got more technology and you wouldn't have to worry about starving anymore. Anything else you want to know?"

Yeah, Makoto says that. He says you won't have to worry about starving. Hickey won't have to worry about starving and the voyage will just be a year long and we have enough provisions for the trip, everything will be fine. Sure.

All that tells Hickey is that Makoto never had to worry about starving. After all, there's nothing certain in life. Food, shelter, health, all of those could vanish in a moment's notice.

"You've got technology like this place, yeah? Cars and televisions and all that."

Hickey would absolutely be correct in that assessment. Though Makoto now knows what it's like to genuinely worry about where his next meal is coming from, it's only served to make his home world seem all the easier through comparison and nostalgia.

"Oh sure, but even better. Especially since it all actually works most of the time. There are cars, planes, televisions, cell phones, video games, vending machines where you can buy almost anything. All sorts of cool stuff."

Hickey already has a feeling like he'll know how the rest of this conversation will go when he points out,

"Right, what's an electrical plane?"

"Well, actually most are still fuel powered. But whether they're electric or not, planes really are amazing --an artistic fusion of chemistry and engineering. Jet engines work by compressing air, mixing it with fuel, and igniting the mixture to produce a powerful thrust that propels the plane forward at incredible speeds."

He rattles off in a genuinely excited tone that says Hickey has stumbled upon a topic that Makoto is confident in.

"They can even travel thousands of miles without stopping. And inside, hundreds of people can ride in comfort."

"But electric planes are a little different..." He hums a beat, before he snaps his free fingers and points to Hickey, "So, what do you know about batteries? Or telegraphs?"

Oh good God, he's gonna listen to someone talk about something he knows next to nothing about. Hickey's eyes start to glaze over, only slightly paying attention, jolted back to life by Makoto's question.

Fortunately for Makoto, Hickey knows about telegraphs. Unfortunately for Makoto...

"I've heard of telegraphs. That's a fairly new piece of technology where I'm from. You tap out a message and it's somehow transmitted over wires to a different telegraph, yeah?"

"Yeah, you got it. But the somehow is actually little pulses of electricity. That's what transmits those messages through the wires. Electric powered stuff is the same. Well, kinda." Makoto clears his throat, but recovers and continues on just as confidently. It's easy to hear his smirk, "Anyway, with modern stuff, the power is continuous. And they usually have batteries, which store all that electricity and release it when it's needed."

After what he seems to consider a clearly brilliant explanation, he beams at Hickey, "Pretty cool, right?"

he's got that dog in him

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