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Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center, Thursday

He was busy with the Congo situation again. Of course, it was only one of a number of ongoing, intertwined conflicts in the region, but with as much time as he had on his hands right now, Cable could afford to spend some diving into the area's history.

So he had his laptop set up on his desk again. Doing work during work about something else work-related; he was a master of multi-tasking.

[ open! ]

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As he's here.

Indiana wandered in sometime during the morning and nodded at Cable.

"Good morning," he said. "I heard through the grape vine that this was the place to go for target practice?"

"It is," Cable replied, looking up from his laptop, "Although I think you'd hardly need a grapevine to hear it."

"I'm still relatively new in town," Indiana replied with a shrug and then nodded in the general direction of what was the shooting range. "I also hear it's not exactly open to the public."

"I like to know who walks into my range," he said, considering Indiana carefully. The usual size-up, really. "Which I hope you can understand, considering the island."

"I can understand that," he said pushing his hat back on his head a little. "If someone's going to play in your backyard, you need to know if their going to play nice."

He grinned.

"Which I usually do. Indiana Jones. I work up at the school."

"Nathan Summers," Cable offered him in return, sticking out a hand. "Call me Cable. What would you be planning to fire off in my range?" Business was business. Even if it wasn't really a business in any significant kind of way...

Indy took the hand and shook it nodding to the weaponry in the store. "Nothing fancy compared to what you have in here. Just a .45 Webley."

He looked around at a particular armament and shook his head. "Which to you probably sounds like it should be in a museum."

"Depends on the situation," he replied, "I prefer the pragmatic approach." With really, really big guns. Or a big axe. Or a big spear. The options were endless, really. "Show it, please?"

Indy reached into his bag and pulled out a worn leather holster with a leather flap. He pulled out the gun and pulled out the chamber to show it was unloaded.

"Nothing fancy," he commented. "But it gets the job done. I assume you have ammunition available?"

Hey being almost 70 years in the future it's a legitimate question.

"I've been known to keep some in stock."

He was... almost sure he'd been shot at with a gun like that somewhere in the past, but that was really neither here nor there. "So do you have any kind of license?" Cable asked, sounding like he wasn't exactly unused to people not having one.

"I do but it's from 1939," Indiana commented. "However I can get a new one if that will satisfy your need."

"Actually, that puts you ahead on most," he replied, wryly, "That'll be fine. Time traveller?"

He'd kind of already had that hunch.

"Not professionally," Indiana said with smirk. "But yeah, I'm from the last century. Still getting used to a lot of things around here."

"I could tell. Us professionals get better benefits..." Cable deadpanned, "But I can sympathise. It takes a great deal of adapting."

"Oh really?" Indiana said raising an eyebrow. "So you're a time-traveler?"

He said this as though Cable was making a joke but then wondered if maybe he wasn't joking.

"Really?"

He smiled slightly, in that cordial way that was both honest and entirely calculated. "Let's just say I grew up a few centuries from now."

Indiana opened his mouth to say something but realized that... yeah he couldn't wrap his head around that at the moment so he closed it.

When he did open his mouth again it was to say "A few centuries? What the hell are you doing here?"

And somewhere in the back of his mind was the thought about going back in time and greedily using the ability to learn vast amounts of historical facts.

"The future doesn't work out particularly well," Cable provided, "I saw a chance to change it. I took it." That was the simple version of that particular story. The very, very simple, stripped-down, basic version that was all that mattered in the end. "So... your license, please?"

Indy raised an eyebrow at that. "Sounds like a pretty tough task," he said pulling out his license and offering it to Cable.

"I might still be working on it," Cable said, flashing him a wry smile. That was... well, an understatement and some severe confusion all wrapped up into one, and it was a lucky thing he hid these kind of things well.

He took the license, flicking his eyes over it. "That's '39 alright," he replied, finally, holding the license back up.

Indy smirked a little bit. "I bet you are," he said taking the license back. "So do you need anything else from me?"

"I think that's all," Cable said, kindly enough. "So, mr. Jones, what did you do before you came to my island?"

He liked to do his research. Especially concerning the radio.

"Professor of archaeology," he replied as he started to pack away his gun. "Mostly field work than lecture really."

Hm. Interesting. "You wouldn't happen to have heard of anyone called En Sabah Nur, would you...?"

Indiana tilted his head. "That's Egyptian for 'The first one'," he replied thoughtfully. "Never heard of a mythological or historical figure who might be called that. Perhaps a small tribal name for Amun the creator?"

"Not quite," Cable said, "But interesting..." He looked up at Indiana. "You're free to use the range," he continued, "Feel free to come by again. I have a vested interest in the past, myself."

"Well, if you need any help," Indiana said with a shrug. "Feel free to drop by the library. History is still big part of what I do."

"I might hold you to that."

Mod your meditation, or ask Cable for help.

Only accessible with prior permission.

Traffic is loud in Germany.

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Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center, Thursday

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Meditation Room

Shooting Range

OOC