Hannibal's house, Sunday morning

[sharp_as_knives]

Jono had slept straight through the night - a miracle Hannibal was perfectly ready to take credit for. He wasn't likely to sleep much longer, though, so Hannibal was headed back upstairs with the simple omelette he'd made for breakfast and a good-sized carafe of coffee.

[OOC: For the well-rested guy!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

//It's a little more complex than that,// Jono replied, a touch wryly. //It'd be like asking a pilot why he can't use a drinking bird toy to fly a plane and why he thinks he needs his hands for the job. Reaction time is different, for a start. Vocalizations and subvocalizations and deep breaths and... There's practically an art to it. And the collar was always for more than just flying, anyway.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal gave him an exasperated look. "You said the sound powered it; you hadn't mentioned the rest." He could probably learn to vibrate air with his flames, come to that, but it wasn't likely to be any easier than rebuilding himself, which would accomplish the same thing.

Then again, Hannibal had perfectly good vocal cords oh lord let's not even go there.

He sat on his bike. "You mentioned once that your existing power could be used to fly?"

[furnaceface]

//I mentioned that I had a friend who could copycat powers, who had used mine to be able to fly, yes,// Jono replied, shrugging a little. //But I still haven't been able to figure out how he did it. Trying what he said to try... mostly just wound up with a scorched bit of lawn.//

And Jono feeling like an idiot and never trying again. Details.

[sharp_as_knives]

"And how long ago was the last time you tried?" Hannibal asked. He put on his helmet and started his bike.

[furnaceface]

"Years," Jono admitted, fastening his own helmet. //But in this particular case, I think it's more a matter of how we both vented our respective energies. His powers adapted them, didn't mimic them exactly, and so he could channel it through his hands for... a sort of lift, I suppose? Mine has already figured out how it wants to make its exit.//

The horrible way.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded thoughtfully, and switched to thinking at Jono as they started off. At least you would be better able to balance, and you'd have use of your hands. If it's something you want, you should try it again.

[furnaceface]

//I suppose it can't hurt... Worst that'll happen is I'll put a few holes in something. Or, er, actually get off the ground and then neglect to land properly.//

Which could be disastrous.

//So I suppose it could hurt, but at least I already know how to land without breaking my bloody leg.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Maybe we should find an unused field, Hannibal suggested. The flamingos might object if you tried it in the yard.

[furnaceface]

//It'd take care of your flamingo problem pretty bloody quick if it didn't work out, though.//

Jono was teasing, yes. He was pretty sure Hannibal actually liked having the flamingos hanging out on the front lawn.

[sharp_as_knives]

The flamingos were a bloody nuisance! But probably best as not actually bloody.

Or it could end with the ones left attacking the house, Hannibal pointed out. I would prefer not to risk it.

[furnaceface]

//... What would they do? Fly into the windows?//

Jono was picturing this.

It was both horrifying and hilarious, actually.

[sharp_as_knives]

Clearly you've never cleaned up after a good number of birds. There would be feathers, and droppings, and peck-marks everywhere, most likely.

[furnaceface]

//I can honestly say that this is a situation that has actually never come up for me,// Jono agreed. //And I'd like for it to stay that way.//

[sharp_as_knives]

As would I, Hannibal answered. Left or right?