Log:The Trans-Continental
From C2Wiki
| The Trans-Continental | |
|---|---|
| Emitter | Deirdre |
| Players | Clash |
| NPCs | Agony, Dr. Marvin Wilkinson |
| Place | Continental Airlins Flight 8722 |
| Time (IC) | October 24th, 2012 |
| Time (OOC) | October 24th, 2007 |
Continental Airlines Flight 8722 from Port Liberty to Los Angeles is on its way to O'Hare for the stopover. You know the gist. In any case, it has been a largely uneventful flight, other than the fact that turbulence is less than pleasurable and the part where the flight attendant sounds like a wacky sitcom neighbor and won't.shut.up.
That's all hardly new to someone who frequently travels by air, though, so in general everyone is just trying to enjoy their packet of peanuts and watch some dreadful romantic comedy without paying for the audio headphones.
Chase likes trains and all. She really does! It's not her fault there's been excessive delays in the cross-continental line due to (likely spurious) terrorism threats. And, y'know, the fact her aunt was polite enough to spring for the ticket. She doesn't mind air travel, herself, but she's only ever flown once before as it is. For the most part, she's still just hunched up by a window seat, peeking outside.
The man sitting next to Chase, in the aisle, is a distinguished-looking older gent with greying temples. He's the sort where, if it was back in The Day, you'd expect a monocle and a dandy cane. As it's 2012, he's more of a pleated suit sort of guy. In whatever case, he's reading a very serious-looking book on very serious political matters and generally seems as though you wouldn't want to bother him. His moustache is grey and takes up far too much of his face, due to his thin lips.
Sitting two rows behind them is a woman who is striking only because she is so large. Clearly over six feet tall, she has very dark skin, her head shaved bald. She is also reading, though it's a trashy celebrity gossip magazine rather than anything dense.
Chase should have brought a gameboy. Or would have, if she were the geeky enough (and richer enough) sort... as it is, she just has an MP3 player. Volume turned down on the earbuds, so as not to distract anyone else; not like she can't hear it well enough. "... So. Uh," she stammers a moment, will briefly broken by the tedium of solitary travel. "Hello," she says to the man beside her.
The man just sort of looks at her for a moment, and it's a bit awkward. Finally, he tilts his head. "Hello." He then turns back to his book. The foghorn of a flight attendant is suddenly talking over the PA, informing everyone in her brassiest alto that the fasten seatbelt sign is now off because the turbulence that has tortured everyone for twenty minutes if finally abating. A line promptly forms for the lavatory, and the tall black woman rises as well, though she doesn't move toward the back of the cabin.
"So, uh, liking the... flying thing? So far," Chase notes. Not the master of small talk it seems, even if she's trying, and smiling weakly. Exhaling a bit, and leaving it at that for the moment, taking the blessed relief of passenger-shuffling to recline back in her chair a bit, glancing around then plane, then outside again. Beyond the window - still clouds, below.
As Chase leans back, the large black woman takes the opportunity to stroll up two rows, lean over, and grab the older man by the collar. Her musculature is rather intense, discernable even under her leather coat, and she effortlessly pulls the old man out of his seat with one hand, holding him high in the air as she steps back into the aisle. "Dr. Wilkinson, I presume?" Her voice is low, husky, and hard. "I gotta message from Lady Woe." Glancing over her shoulder, she peers over her sunglasses and grins toothily at the other passengers. "Pardon me, folks, no cause for alarm. Y'all just hold tight, okay?"
"Excu-," Chase wonders as the woman leans over... but doesn't get a chance to finish the exclamation before the man is wrenched from his seat. Her immediate options are limited, considering the size of the aircraft, but this doesn't stop her from grimacing a moment, and barking, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She's bad at this 'not being alarmed' thing too.
"My job, kid, relax." The tall black woman glances over Chase for a moment. "Ooh. Not a kid. A little babydyke." Her mouth turns upward in a bit of a sneer. "Delicious." Whatever that's supposed to mean, she walks toward the Emergency Exit doors with a strident sort of purpose. "There's no need for concern, people, Dr. Wilkinson and I will just be leaving shortly."
This gets better and better, doesn't it? It's obvious that the aggressor here is a metahuman... if only because they seem to lack a parachute. But while the proper thing to due during something like this is to sit still and shut up, she's quite the patient sort. "-Excuse- me?", Chase exclaims there, seatbelt unbuckled as she gets to her feet. No punches thrown yet, no, but it certainly looks... mismatched. The other woman looks to have six inches and a hundred twenty pounds on her.
"Look, sweetheart, I'd love t'stay and make you call me Daddy but I'm on a very tight schedule." Agony (for that is the woman's name) grins, pearly white teeth against ebony skin and black lipstick. "In any case, I'd like everyone to get in their seats and buckle their seatbelts, because when I open this door it's going to get kinda windy in here."
"And just what the hell do you think you're going to do once you jump out?" Not that Chase doesn't have a few guesses, but her options remain limited. There's a good risk of injuring the Doctor, for one, even without the other passengers at risk. What else can she do, then, but... well, try and throw a punch at the woman's midsection? Holding back, intentionally, to seem normal, and fully expecting retaliation for it. If the focus is on her, that at least buys time.
"Ooh, feisty. I like it." All of the other passengers have hurriedly strapped themselves in, and are trying not to make eye contact with the giantess. "I guess you can come too." With that, she grabs Chase's hand as it hits her in the gut - her abdomen feels like steel - and kicks open the door, falling backward into open air with both Chase and the doctor in tow.
GAME (Clobbering, and time thereof.): Chase rolls 1d20 + 7: 9 for a total of 16.
Just as planned! "GUWAH!"
... It should be clarified that this is, on the whole, a rather -horrible- plan. She's assuming that Agony has some method of of slowing her descent, even if it's just metahuman powers, that she can abuse. If not... well, this is going to be a short life. Even if so, the other passengers are alright, as the plane shrinks overhead. Then there's the problem of how to explain this if she -does- life.
No time for worrying, though; there'll be plenty of time for that later! 30,000 feet is a long way to fall, after all. Once more, at close range, Chase lashes out - a sudden knee aimed at the gut, hitting with a resounding 'crack' as it breaks the sound barrier. It's not decisive, but it certainly gets the idea across, as she grimaces. "That a bit feistier?"
GAME: Chase rolls 1d20 + 15: 14 for a total of 29.
"So -that's- why you're playing the hero." Agony laughs, clutching her stomach for a moment with her free hand (the one not holding Dr. Wilkinson, who has passed out from shock). "Well, isn't the good doctor lucky he was sittin' next to you?" That hand rears back, then, to punch Chase right in the kisser. Agony is rather surprised - and perhaps impressed - when the other woman seems no worse for wear.
GAME: Chase rolls 1d20 + 4: 13 for a total of 17.
"That's not quite fair. I'm stupid enough to be a martyr as it is. But who-," Chase says as she's struck, visibly recoiling... to no real net effect. There's battleship hulls that can take less punishment, after all, even if she doesn't look pleased by it. "... Who am I to refuse some extra help?"
Once more, she strikes, pushing against Agony to spin in the air - and more specifically, spin her foot into the larger woman's temple. The extra leverage helps... but not quite enough, it seems. Worse, it pushes Chase away; she lacks means to effectively maneuver in the air. "And just what the hell are you going to do with him? If you wanted him to go splat, you wouldn't have jumped out too!" Even if she has to yell here to be heard over the rushing air, the cloud bank below steadily approaching.
GAME: Chase rolls 1d20 + 15: 7 for a total of 22.
"You don't look stupid, kiddo. You know I can land just as daintily as you can, no worse for wear. At least, I hope you can, cuz I ain't bailin' your ass out when we hit bottom." Agony grins again. "So are you a Le Tigre girl or a Tegan and Sara girl?" WHAM. Punch to the side of the head, leaving a nasty bruise but not doing too much damage otherwise.
GAME (Foot to the face!): Chase rolls 1d20 + 7: 19 for a total of 26.
"That's really none of your damn business," Clash notes as she's walloped in the face. That... she felt; at least her teeth are hard to dislodge. Ow. She retaliates immediately, another kick, and another rush of air behind it. Her leverage is far better, however; she was already spinning, even before Agony's strike, and she abuses the momentum heartily. Her hit was wince-worthy, but this... well, if Agony were a normal human, she'd be missing her head right now.
Gritting her teeth, she tries to steady herself; easier said than done. "Honestly, more Tegan and Sarah, but... DOC! You awake there?" Hopefully he hasn't passed out from the thin air. Or maybe that'd be the best option...
GAME: Chase rolls 1d20 + 14: 16 for a total of 30.
Agony actually looks concerned. She should probably be fleeing right about now, but it's a bit difficult to flee when both she and Chase are falling straight down in a vertical drop. The tiny buildings below them are rapidly becoming less and less tiny, but at least they seem to be over farmland rather than a city. "Look, I just like to get to KNOW people before I kill them, okay? Or before they... try to kill me. Or whatever. PERSONALLY I always liked the Indigo Girls." She's a little hazy at the moment, but she does manage to kick Chase in the stomach. This doesn't actually DO anything, but it's pretty impressive given her condition. The doctor is moaning a little as he begins to come out of his fainting spell, but Agony has him clutched tightly in the crook of her left arm.
GAME: Chase rolls 1d20 + 7: 12 for a total of 19.
"That's... uh... thoughtful, I guess. I mean, I have no idea how assassination works beyond the murdering part," Chase banters. She's already risked enough, as it is... it's obvious she's metahuman, for one thing. There is one bit that Agony isn't aware of; while hardly a professional, she's still a reasonably practiced boxer. The traded blows have moved her away, and spread arms lets her briefly slow her descent... only to narrow her limbs, and divebomb into Agony moments after, fist first, as the three fall into the clouds. It's... decisive.
It's still fairly bright, of course, the air thin and foggy at this altitude. Chase has no trouble breathing, and doesn't even really consider that fact... but with her opponent out like a light, it's all the time she needs to change.
And it's Clash, in fact, who pries the doctor from Agony's arms - or at least attempts to. Grinning there, as she asks again, "Are you alright? Breathe deep and slow."
Agony just freefalls for a long, long time. There is a meaty thud on the ground below, eventually, not that Chase hears it, but when she and the doctor land in the meadow below they will note a very large crater not far from them. Speaking of landing, it's about that time, sports fans.
The doctor, for his part, opens his eyes and then screams in abject terror. A lot.
This is... going to be exciting. Chase is tough, yes, and she's survived a ten story fall before. That's quite a bit different from plummeting at terminal velocity from cruising altitude. Sort of like the difference between being bit by a dog, and having your face nibbles on by Maw. She knows she's tough, but... well.
"HANG ON!"
Clash bends there, holding the doctor overhead, and praying her legs can take the impact.
It's not COMFORTABLE, but her legs don't snap with the impact and she's surprisingly sturdy when she lands. The doctor passes out again, but is clearly breathing. Meanwhile, that smoking crater in the middle of the meadow should probably be checked to make sure Agony's still inside it.
Clash does, however, make a nice crater herself.. wedging nearly waist-deep in the ground. Dirt, it's nature's airbag! "... ow.. ow... what the fuck... ow..." She was... not expecting that result, no, heart pounding a mile a minute as she gathers her wits. The doctor is set down carefully - she'll need to call paramedics, not having any first aid experience - and pulls herself from the soil to do just take. Wobbling awkwardly on her feet, she does just that; spotting the crater, and stepping over to it.
GAME: Deirdremitter awards a hero point to Clash.
The crater is about ten feet deep, but regardless of how hard she hit the ground, Agony is already gone. Whatever her powers are, it's clear they let her bounce back rather quickly. At least the doctor seems to be all right, though his heart is going a mile a minute.
Clash tchs, and grits her... well, his teeth. Adjusting the costume a moment; freefall is not the best time to change clothes, however fast you are. With no sign of Agony, there's nothing she can do about it but walk back over. "Hey! You awake? Need water?"
The doctor opens his eyes slowly, and looks very disoriented. "I... I'm alive?" It's a weak sort of gasp.
"Well, that, or it's grey and drizzling in heaven," Clash notes, grinning a bit, and reaching up to brush his bangs back. "I managed to catch you before you hit the ground - got the girl too, already ran her off to one of the local ER's," she lies, shaking her head. "Was gonna call some for you, too. Being exposed that high up can't be good."
"They'll keep coming," he says, ominously, raising a hand. His glasses fell off in the impact, and without them it seems he can't see very well. "Whoever you are... thank you. I just... it won't mean much, in the end. Once they start, they don't... they never..." With that, he passes out again.
"To be honest, beating the crap out of them the first few times they try will-," Clash starts... but doesn't quite finish the sentiment before the doctor passes out. "... yeah, can talk this over later. Hope you didn't break anything," she says, carefully picking the doctor up once more. "My mom is going to kill me." Explaining away the black eye shall be fun!
