[open] and you can tell the sun in his jealous sky..

[starryeyed_cass]

[OOC: Just to let everyone know, Cassie is backdated to the thirteenth. Everyone else is on the current date. :)]

On the thirteenth, it is Cassie Riddle’s twenty-third birthday. In the early morning, she is up on the roof of Kashtta, playing guitar. She’s singing a pretty little folk song she was fond of from back home to the skies of the

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[ocptmycpt]

"Ooh, burn," he says sarcastically, grinning at her comeback. Jim's probably going to keep up with the Littlefoot thing--a) because nicknames are awesome and b) because the nickname comes from a movie about dinosaurs, what can be better?--so it's good to know she doesn't seem to mind.

"You're welcome," Jim replies with a wave of his hand. When she mentions it being her birthday, he straightens up a little. "Happy Birthday! You should've told me, I would've gotten you guitar strings. Or shoes that are a normal size. Or a kite that isn't possessed." Jim does love giving gifts, after all. Gag gifts or sincere ones; sometimes a mixture of both, because he pulls that off surprisingly well.

"Just got in from flying," he replies, unfurling his wings a little to make a point. The Chicago wind is crisp but not unbearable; it's been surprisingly warm the last few days. He'd argued with Bones for ages about being allowed to go out in a t-shirt (he'd lost, but the man had only forced a hoodie on him instead of grumbling about coats and hats like the mama lioness he is). His wing muscles are a bit sore from flying all night, and he folds them neatly against his shoulders. "Best time to fly is night when you don't run the risk of, y'know, getting confused with Superman or anything." Or alerting the general public to the abnormality that is a man with wings. "That would be a tragedy. I'd look way better in spandex," he adds jokingly.

[starryeyed_cass]

There's a mischievous grin on her face. She's not one for nicknames herself, but if Jim's going to continue with the one he has for her - it's only fair she's going to keep her's up!

Cassie shakes her head with a small laugh, waving her hand in a dismissive motion, "Oh no, it's fine - you don't have to, really," She laughs again and grins at him. She'd definitely be happy enough not to see another kite again for a long time. "I think today's going to be a normal day - just doing things I like: guitar, baking and drinks later on,"

She raises her eyebrows when he mentions his flying. She doesn't get how he'd have the courage to fly about so high up in the air. Yes, he's a Captain on a spaceship - but flying around by yourself, now that sounds terrifying. It sounds like a brilliant thing to do - but she thinks she'd be too scared to do it herself. She'd be terrified of falling.

"Yeah, that's true," she says with a nod, "With the way things are with Wanderers, people would know who you are - especially since the angels in this world don't fly," Cassie laughs, nudging him on the arm, "Don't flatter yourself, mate,"

[ocptmycpt]

"You can bake?" Jim inquires, in a tone that suggests such a talent should be on par with the ability to light a fire using only two sticks and sheer determination. "I wish I could bake. Or cook in general. I'm complete shit at it." This is true; Jim grew up with his uncle Frank and his older brother Sam, after all, neither of who showed any potential for meals beyond peanut butter sandwiches and chips. And on the odd occasion his mom was home, she wasn't much better off. Unsurprisingly, he'd grown up using a replicator to get his meals. It'd been a bit of a problem when he got here and realized replicators hadn't been invented yet, but thanks to the cafeteria in the Kashtta and his own mastery of using the microwave, he'd survived.

Jim sees the raised eyebrows and laughs. "It's awesome, I promise," he says, glancing upward for a moment. He misses being among the stars, but this new form of flying has its perks too.

"Pretty much," he agrees. "And with the CLF out and about, well--it's probably not the best idea to be zipping around in the air in broad daylight." Jim purses his lips a little after he says it, feeling the usual sense of damped down rage he still gets from thinking about the video from ages ago.

He comes from a time when individuality and peace is championed; the existence of the CLF itself is probably the biggest cultureshock of Chicago thus far. It rankles him to think that such groups are out there.

But he tries to shake these thoughts off--it's for a different day. Instead, he laughs at her nudge and grins broadly. "It's not flattery if it's true," he singsongs lightly.

[starryeyed_cass]

Cassie nods with a smile, "A little, yeah," she tells him, "When I was at university, I had to cook for myself. Well, it was either that or takeout. So I learned to make stuff. It wasn't always pretty, but it was edible,"

She laughs and shakes her head, "Oh, it's quite easy as long as you follow the directions in the cookbook," Her grandmother didn't even need a cookbook, she knew the measurements by heart when it came to making cakes. Cassie's not that good, but she's not poisoning people either. "Maybe you should get some lessons," she teases lightly.

Cassie plucks at a few guitar strings, "I'm not thinking it isn't," she says with a shrug, "It would be amazing... just.. a little scary," she makes a face, ruffling the hair on her side of her head with a little awkwardness, "Apart from that kite episode... I've never actually been flying, not even on a plane,"

She nods, "Yeah, exactly," she says with a sigh, "Stupid CLF. Although it's good there hasn't been anything since that video, gives us a little breathing space, huh?" She smiles weakly and shrugs.

Cassie laughs, "Oh whatever!" she replies with a grin, shaking her head, "You keep telling yourself that!"

[ocptmycpt]

"In my time, we had machines called replicators, that could basically synthesize any food you wanted," Jim says, a little wistfully. What? He misses being able to stumble out of bed and go to his replicator and get instant hot chocolate. His first try at making some in the microwave almost ended up with the microwave exploding until someone saw that he'd left a spoon in his cup and frantically told him to stop. It sort of killed his desire to try and make midnight hot chocolate. "The food that's made has the same nutrition content. Only tastes a little different. So I never really learned." He shrugs. When he was spending his years going through Europe doing fuck-all, he'd had to eat nonreplicated food. But usually he'd just bought it, unless a one night stand took pity on him in the morning or something.

"I've tried...cookbooks," Jim says with some bitterness. "It didn't turn out very well." By 'not very well' you can imagine him covered in flour with the fire alarm going off and a half burn pan of homemade lasagna. To be fair, he'd tried it when he was seven to make a surprise meal for his mom coming back from space after a six month voyage. But he's rather sure he wouldn't have much more luck now.

"Not even on a plane?" He asks, taken aback. Jim sometimes forgets that planes are generally reserved for long distance travel and expensive. Shuttles are pretty commonplace for jaunts between even cities and inexpensive. Even the longer flights are relatively cheap. "Huh. It's not really scary. It's amazing, being up in the air. I mean, some people don't like it--Bones hates flying--but if you do like it, it's great." he says. "You gotta go on a plane sometime, at least."

"Yeah," Jim says, a bit hesitantly. "I'm just...worried they're planning something," he shrugs his shoulders a little. "Something bigger, and that's why they've been quiet." He shakes his head again. "Ignore me, I'm probably worked up about nothing." It's a little strange going from fighting Klingons once a week to the civilian lifestyle; his intuition for upcoming face-offs probably doesn't apply to urban warfare. And yet...he can't shake off an ominous feeling.

He tries to ignore it for now, though. "I will," he laughs, before adding with fake pride, "I always tell the truth, after all, and that is definitely the truth."

[starryeyed_cass]

Cassie frowns at him at the mention of these replicator things, "But isn't that cheating?" she asks after a short pause, "Like.. at cooking? Where's the fun in that?" The fact that it tastes a little different causes her to make a face. She'll take that different as a weird different. It doesn't sound very appealing. It's all just trial and error, you make mistakes in cooking - but that's the fun in it. You just get better at it, making new things as you go along.

"You just need to keep practicing at it, that's all," she says encouragingly with a nod, "I'd be happy to try and teach you something. I mean, I'm no super-chef... but I learned how to make some things,"

Cassie laughs awkwardly, "Nope, I'm afraid not," she says with a shake of her head. "Back home, whenever my family went on holiday - we were just happy enough to get out of London for a week and into the countryside. We went to Wales a lot, or Devon. So we never went abroad," She shrugs lightly with a small smile, "I think it'd be alright. But y'know.. there's always those little jitters about doing something for the first time. So yeah, I wouldn't mind going on a plane one day,"

She sits back for a moment with a small frown at her brow, letting out a long sigh, "I know what you mean," she says with a nod, "It's alright. I guess it's just this city. Gets you on edge, makes everyone feel a little paranoid,"

Cassie scoffs, looking at him incredulously, "Blatant lies!" she says with a laugh, "The day you look good in spandex, I'll eat my guitar," The narration facepalms. Cassie, I don't even.