"Always my luck," John said with a dramatic sort of sigh that was clearly more theatrical than anything. He didn't know how true or not it was, but he was pretty big on not being a fucking weirdo about it. Not that he still wouldn't flirt. He'd just space it out more like a gentleman. Or as close to a gentleman that a burned out punk rocker turned occult detective sorcerer could get.
He took a drag from his cigarette, and exhaled the smoke experimentally into the woods, but nothing happened, and so he shut the door for the time being. "Air force?" He asked, genuinely curious. "News to me, though not a great shock. You seem like the type t'want t'go fast." The glowing fist was interesting too. "And after piloting?" He prompted, nodding toward her hand.