Flying the Friendly Skies

Ahra:
*He was sitting down as he awaited for the flight that he -had- to take. He sighed softly, his eyes flickering close for a moment. He did not overly like airports for a variety of reasons. They tended to be noisy affairs and he was not extremely fond of crowds. He was dressed in a suit, tie and black shoes in all. It was as if he had stepped out of wall street or was in his way to a business trip. His features were hard to miss, the hair that fell past his shoulders contrasting with his eyes. Ahra looks clashed, his face almost feminine while his body was obviously masculine, down to the seemingly sculpted wide shoulders and narrow hips. There was a paper in front of him, which he was reading. A few of the nearby women sneaking `peeks` at him when they thought he was not looking. He was flattered really, but he had no interest in them, his mind was busy elsewhere. When the singing starts he blinks, his attention drawn towards the source. Some people simply had no shame...*

*well of course he had no shame. And the only reason he wasn't dressed in a singlet and shorts, was that he'd just come from an Australian summer, and it was actually winter there* Down came a jumbuck to drink from that, billabong, up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee. And he sang, as he stuffed that jumbuck in that tuckerbag, you'll come a-waltzing matilda with me* As if just to annoy Ahra, he plopped himself in the seat next to him, and tossing his backpack at the ground at his feet, he continued to sing* Down came the Swatter, mounted on his thoroughbred, down came the troopers 1-2-3. 'Where's that jolly jumbuck, you've got in your tuckerbag'

*His attention was loosely on the singing man, and his rather horrid taste in music. He did not -care- what the man sang, as long as he sang it to himself. With a sigh filled with a sense of tragedy he -tried- to return his attention to his paper. His mind began to tune out the inane singing when he heard the sound come closer and closer. For a moment, there was a sudden air of disbelief about him. His luck could -not- be this bad. His eyes flickered over the top of the newspaper as he looked at Jack sat down, his nose crinkling slightly as he did so. For a moment, he thought that perhaps the man would be -pleasant- and observe proper etiquette. That illusion is dispelled when he continues to sing, a sigh escaping his lips* pardon me? but this is an airport not a pub. If you want to continue that racket, can you please find another place to do so? *his eyes flickering over -several- empty seats not next to him* I would rather not listen to your joy, some of us are trying to concentrate. *his tone is utterly polite and pleaasnt, this -was- a request. He hoped he did comply, for even the bums in the bowery of NY were not quite this rude. At least, they could not afford to be in an airport. Surely this man could take his singing elsewhere? For the first time since in the day, he actually looked -forward- to being on a plane*

Well y'know *actually stopping the singing to reply to the oh-so-polite businessman* mate, I was at the pub, but they didn't even have Slim Dusty on the jukebox! I mean really! Then I looked at the time, and I realised if I wasn't careful I'd miss my connecting flight, so here I am! Hopefully I'll get a conversationalist when I gets on the plane. Well either that or some sheila. These American sheilas always seem to go wild over my accent ya'know? *his accent obviously Australian, and then he lifted his hat off his head, put it on his lap and stuck a hand out* Jack Rogan. So what's on the news? Anything good happening, or you just reading the paper till some guy came up and introduced themselves so you wouldn't be bored out of your skull any longer?

*It was easily apparent that Jack had -all- of his attention, how could he not? When he begins the speak, a lot of the lingo goes over his head. He had -no- idea "Slim Dusty" was and had a feeling it was likely that he never would. When he goes on about the conversationalist, he silently hopes that they were not in the same plane. By now, the accent's origins had been narrowed down to the land down under. His following actions making him blink in surprise. Well, that was odd, this had not been the turn he had expected. Still, he had stopped singing and had introduced himself. Politeness, required him to do the same if nothing else. His right hand moving to clasp his own in a firm shake*Ahra Vera...*his following words making a thin smile form on his lips* nothing specially important, it's a habit. *obviously referring to the paper. A moment later, the paper is folded up and laying in his lap, his mind beggining to think that maybe this is not such a bad thing afterall. His last words making him pause a moment before he chuckles softly, a sound that perhaps hinted that he was not some uptight business-class prick. At least not all the time, he was sure that he would have to worry about his ass when he made it to his final destination* as long as the conversation is pleasant, it would be welcome. *he paused for a moment before curiosity got the best of him* may I ask what flight you are waiting for Jack? *he expected that if fate was the fickle woman he expected her to be, they would be in the same plane...*

Well hang on a moment, just let me get out my ticket! *digging into his backpack, he then tugged out his ticket, clearly labelled as American Airlines on the holder, and looked at it* Flight 471, seat 36F. I think I'm due to board pretty soon actually, if I've got my times right, and my jet lag is still paying havoc from the trip from Sydney.

*He watched him in silence as he spoke, his eyes flickering over him as he digs through his backpack. He seemed to be a nice enough person after he had stopped his singing. He had always heard that Australians were an odd breed, and here he was watching one in the flesh. As much as he was getting to feel comfortable around the `aussie`, he was looking forward to closing his eyes and listening to bach or beethoven during his flight. When he withdrew his ticket, he was all but confident that it was simply -impossible- for Jack to be with him in his flight. When he sees the label, his eyes widen slightly for only a moment. -Shit-, well, that only narrowed it down to a few hundred flights...when he -spoke- the name of the flight and seat number, he nearly groans. It takes a great deal of self-control to keep his face as passive as before. His eyes flickering over him and to the ticket as he added* I'll be damned...*his right hand dissapeared beneath the side of his jacket and reappeared with an american airlines ticket. His eyes flickering over it as he read aloud the information* flight 471, seat 36E...*he paused a moment, as if he could not -believe- what he had just read* looks like you and I are going to have a few hours in the friendly skies Jack...*his tone unchanged from before, still pleasant and calm. Inwardly, he was not sure what the -hell- was going on. They were seating next to each other for crying out loud! Still, so far so good...*

Aww mate! That's great.... *he snickered* Well if it weren't that we're not on Ansett we could sing.. I am, you are, we are Australian... *then he paused* Of course, you're not actually Australian, poor bastard. Though if it's a sheila sitting in 36D, you gotta share. Or at least give me a decent crack at her as well. Where are you off to anyway?

*He watched his reaction and smiled, he made it look good actually, even if his mind was still slightly numb from shock* Mmm, I am sure of that. *he blinked when he called him australian, an eyebrow arching for a moment. It was bloody obvious that he was -not- Australian. His following words making him laugh softly* you have my word Jack, I will share if its a sheila in D. *Of course he would, it was not as if seducing someone in a plane was an easy thing to do. Besides, even if he -could- do it it would be impossible for him to get the said sheila in the bathroom alone. That was one particular spot that he had -always- wanted to try. Sadly, he was a bit too tall to make that maneuver feasible. His attention returning to Jack as he spoke the last* mmm? oh, I am headed to Oregon. yourself? *if he said Oregon, he -HAD- to be a plant. He believed in coincidence, but that would be simply pushing things beyond statistical possibilities...*

Well I'm getting a connecting flight from Oregon to LA, from memory, and then I'm staying with a friend for about a week. Then I got check my umm.. itinerary whats-it. Oh bonus! Let's hope it's a sheila in D then huh? It'd just be great! As long as she's pretty of course.... *he shook his head, and checked the time* You'd think they would make it so that at worst you only had to get one connecting flight wouldn't you? They're almost as bad as the banks!

*He nods as he speaks* Los Angeles, good luck to you then. *he laughs softly at the enthusiasm Jack was portraying about the possibility* that has to be a pre-requisite of course. *he blinked at his following words though, he was taking a direct flight afterall* how many connections have you had to made to get to LA? *his tone puzzled as he spoke. He did not react at all to the banks comment, he was no banker. Actually, he agreed with his assesment. Banks were experts out of making one's money rather difficult to get a hold of...*

Well I just arrived her a few hours ago from Sydney, and then I gotta get this flight, and then take the flight to LA, so that'll be three flights in total. *he shook his head, and shrugged* *he then stood as the announcement for boarding came*

Ouch. you have my sympathy Jack, the only time I had so many connections I was going to the far east. *when the boarding call comes he stands after Jack does. Hell, they were sitting -next- to each other. It was then that his height was revealed, for he stood roughly five or six inches past six feet in height. He leaned his back a bit, stretching for a moment before leaning down and grabbing his carry on luggage. His eyes dart about the gathering crowds until he spots a rather pretty woman ahead* Mmm, hopefully -that- is 36D...*his words spoken mostly to himself*

*he eyed that pretty woman and then chuckled at Ahra's words* I'm hoping so too. *looking up at him, as Jack wasn't exactly tremendously tall... he was more the slim, wiry type.* Aah well... let's go eh?

I was hoping you would, it implies you have excellent taste...*his words spoken in a soft and hushed manner. His words making him nod as he follows the crowd of passengers. When he makes it to the people checking tickets he hands over his own and moves through the tunnel connecting the airport to the plane. He looks over his shoulder, making sure that Jack was on his way before concentrating on what was ahead. A moment later,he ducks into the plane and heads between the narrow corridors towards the middle of the plane. A few moments later, and several near misses between himself and an occasional passenger he arrives at his destination. He places his carry on back in one of the overhead compartments and takes a look to 36D. There was no lovely woman there, but there was no man either. Had he passed the woman allready? he turned, his eyes darting about the cabin of the plane for a moment. A second later and he shrugged, taking his seat and waiting to see what kind of hand fate dealt him. If it was not that woman...then he wanted no one at all in 36D. Actually, that was false...he wanted -another- one here, just as pretty as the first one*