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xp_logsDriving to meet Sooraya and Kyle at the Blackbird, the team discusses what just happened.
And, some time later and a plane ride secured back home, they were all back in the van. Torn, swampy clothing had been removed, hydration and snacks had been procured, and the only reminder of all that had just happened was the large, sodden piece of sophisticated driftwood sitting in the trunk.
Also the stares.
Namor has always attempted to cultivate an air of cold calculation, but even under the scrutiny of everyone (who wasn't driving, as Alani had her eyes safely on the road and her own thoughts) he still maintained the self possession of a true ruler. Confident in his power and utterly unafraid.
He was perhaps still more visibly swamp-worn than anyone else in his still shirtless, windblown state, but he sat like a conquering king.
The king didn't look like anyone who had done anything wrong — he looked like a soldier who had fought a battle and won, and he wore that triumph like a crown.
"You may begin," he allowed.
Alani looked up to the rear view mirror only briefly before looking back at the road, left thumb tapping out a tuneless beat as she finally turned the cruise control on. “What are we beginning now?” She asked shortly.
Then her face quickly became all false cheer. “Oh, the lovely mission we just had. Thank you, Namor, ever the diplomat. Clint, darling, would you like to begin?”
Clint felt a little bit like he'd just been called on to answer the first question his English teacher asked him and he hadn't done the reading or actually read the SparkNotes or anything. Then his brain reoriented itself and he felt like pointing out that he could tell how much time Alani had been spending with Fi just by that 'darling' she'd used might not be good for his health or wellbeing. "Right," he said, stalling for time. "So. That was... a shit show. What actually happened to piss off our friend, the swamp nymph?"
“There was a breakdown in communication,” Meggan began carefully, as she went with all the delicacy that she could muster under the circumstances. She wasn’t sure if she should even mention the comment with Namor in the vicinity, or what Namor had destroyed, but it had to all come up in a mission report at some point anyway. “What was perceived as an insult toward a certain other nature spirit party caused a big reaction, which led to fury.”
"Fury," Clint said leadingly, eyebrows raised significantly as he very slowly turned to look at Namor.
"Righteous fury," Namor clarified with an enthusiastic nod. He even added a little 'you may continue' gesture.
"How old are you?" Matt asked rhetorically. "And you are a king? Because, it seems to me that after all this time, you would have a better understanding of diplomacy and respecting other's kingdoms than what you've just demonstrated."
"Please avail us," and the icy tone that chilled Namor's voice radiated through the car, "Of your own dealings between the seen and unseen powers of the world, lawyer. You humans have the belief that everything follows your rules. Your timelines. Your values. My kingdom was lost, lawyer, and there was no reclaiming those ruins."
There was a sharp undercurrent there of that same righteous fury that was far, far closer to true rage.
"Their remains were not her domain. They needed to be put to rest."
"Not her domain? One hundred percent, I get it. Needed to be put to rest? Sure. But-" And here she made very sharp use of the word as she spoke to the king. Alani did not take her eyes off the road, though her hands tightened on the steering wheel before she seemed to catch herself and loosen her hold. "Your actions could have endangered Meggan... and myself." She tacked on as an afterthought.
"You can be as passionate as you want with your actions, but you need to communicate that plan before you throw other people into it. Because we did not agree to that."
Meggan nodded in solemn agreement. It was everyone caught in the crossfire that she was really concerned about, and just how poorly it could have gone. “We understand that they needed a final resting place. Exploding urns were a surprise.”
She phrased her next statement as lightly as she could, though it was still a pleading request in the end. “Just...please, in the future try not to then piss off the being that could smite us a thousand different ways in a tenth of a second with a fingernail—if they have one, anyway--if they were feeling insulted or betrayed because of you feeling understandably insulted, too? If you could. Please?”
Clint had followed the conversation as it went, eyes trained on each speaker in turn, before refocusing on Namor. "So what I'm hearing is - you found the remains of some of your people in the swamp. That right?"
Namor's focus, however, was busy flitting between Alani and Meggan. "We," and he leaned on this like a crutch, "Are ashamed to consider that either of you would not know I would happily put myself between the wrath of any angry god and your safety."
He took a steadying breath.
"I did not anticipate the unquenchable fury that stirred when I looked upon what was left of my p--" Namor closed his eyes, expression chilling over as he buried that line of thought. "We failed to consider the embodiment of that overflooded dredge water would go after you. Disgusting."
“I understand that you would. I do,” Meggan calmly assured him. And she did! She would never ever doubt that he would help to protect her or Alani or someone else. “It was just that your thought that you were being willfully insulted caused that situation, and the barbs flowed both ways. That reaction was what led to bigger reactions for us.”
Alani sighed, because she could empathize, she could understand what Namor was saying. And she didn't want him punished. Especially as, as far as she could tell, Namor was apologizing... in his own way. But how to get her thoughts across. Aside from pulling over so she could make eye contact. "We have to do better as a team, because we are a team, and when we're on the field it's us who has each other's backs. I want to have your back, Namor. I want to believe you have mine."
Again she drummed against the wheel. "I am sorry. What we found wasn't what I'd hoped."
One of the Atlantean's eyebrows twitched in the tiniest of microexpressions as he worked very hard to weigh the feelings of his friends against an ingrained need to never apologize and never surrender. "It shames me that you all would think that lowly of me," he tried to apologize with slow, deliberate words. "Yet I see how I have failed all of you," he surrendered with a low sigh.
The back and forth seemed to have calmed everyone down a bit, at least, and Clint reached over to give Namor's shoulder a squeeze after he caught that microexpression. "You haven't failed us, man." He dropped his hand a moment later, then glanced toward the back where Molly and America had racked out. "I don't think anybody would've handled that kind of thing well. I'm just glad we all came out of it okay. And hey, we've got some tech Molly and I can work on, which is way more than we had before."
Matt was certain that Namor might have been a king, but that didn't mean he was a good one. "So, we make a plan and we execute it going forward so that these things don't happen again. If nothing else, wet make new mistakes and continue to learn from them."
Meggan certainly couldn’t think that Namor was a failure in any capacity. Even if he had caused them to be in a terrible situation, it wasn't like he was aiming to do all of that on purpose. She was just grateful that he was willing to listen to their grievances. “Yeah, we’ll work it out as we go along, and just start growing together!” It might sound a little corny, but she felt like it was still what they were aiming for.
The comment had tugged a smile out of Alani, which she did nothing to hide. "Exactly, Meggan. And if our scientists can figure out what was on that log, we've got something from this encounter. Just, can't take you to the Everglades ever again, it seems, Namor." Not that she could see the royal liking Florida at all, but she wasn't going to touch the statement he'd made, still turning it over in the back of her head. "Is there something you wanted to bring up to the class, your highness?"
"We are assured that anything found would be price enough for never visiting that swamp again," was his ego-driven automatic response, but Namor's far away gaze out the window hinted that deeper things were being processed. His face hardened as he returned his attention to the audience in the van. "I was able to briefly repower the city through The Sacred Trident. We... had stories that each city held a memory of our people's history. I believe that may be key to what we saw."
Meggan mulled over the beauty he had shown them, of what had once been able to thrive there, before it had fallen. She nodded solemnly. “I hope you get your answers, or more keys.” She also really hoped he could find whatever he could without getting himself summarily banned from other watery places, but really. Given the topic of conversation, that had to be implied.
“I hope so as well,” was all Namor had to offer.
There was little conversation the rest of the trip to the Blackbird.
Kyle and Sooraya head for the Blackbird to help eXcalibur only to find Alison already there and volunteering (as tribute) to fly to Florida.
"Flight controls - free and correct." Sooraya ticked off another checkmark on her list, then glanced up at Kyle. "That was the last one from my list... how're you doing?"
"Cyclops veto'd my adding a 'make sure plane has juice boxes' to the checklist.' Kyle said, in a remarkably jovial way for a man who had the backpack first aid kit at his feet. "Landing gear's ready to undeploy." He adjusted his seat again, not for physical comfort. It was not his first time in the co-pilot seat, it was the first time and Sooraya had been cleared to fly together. Just for good measure, he took photos of the checklists and texted them to Scott.
"No worries about the juice boxes. I made sure to pack some food and drink and I snuck a couple in there for you. As well as some dry sweats and towels for Clint. Man, the stuff that guy gets up to." Sooraya nodded at the safely stowed packs. "Before we take off though, you have that first aid kit secured? I don't wanna hear Scott if we even dent the smallest things."
Kyle reached down and tugged on the backpack, showing it was safely attached to the seat with a carabiner clip and a short bungee cord.
Then he swore, blunting the profanity into a faux-profanity, mindful of Sooraya, as the metal end of the bungee yanked free of the metal clip, the end frayed and unraveling. "Aw, bless it." He unbuckled his seatbelts, and unfolded from the seat. "I'll grab another bungee." He hit the lever to lower the ramp as he came out of the cockpit, and dropped out of the plane, only to catch a steady flash as he hit the ground. "Score! Yo, Dazzler, toss me a six inch bungee? I gotta secure the first aid backpack in the 'Bird."
The sound of shoes on the gantry (properly chonky boots for the most 'thud' for the step) was about all the warning Kyle got as Alison seemed to cross the room in a flash effectively appear on the ramp behind him. She had a coiled-up bungee in one hand, but probably more alarming was the backpack of her own on her back.
"Scott said I should come too!" There was that... annoying glint in her eye that could really only best be summed up as 'the annoying younger sibling knows something that's going to drive her older brother up the wall and cannot wait to tell him'. "C'mon, let's gooooo!"
Sooraya looked up from double checking her list and her eyebrow rose. "Wait what? Scott said you could come? Did he say why?" She shot Kyle a quizzical glance, wondering if he had heard anything from their staid leader. Usually he would have let them know.
Alison shrugged, dropping hard into one of the chairs behind the flight controls. "Something about learning how to crash or whatever. I was a little more focused on the fact that I get to fly the freaking plane!" She was practically vibrating in her seat.
Kyle's phone buzzed in his jacket pocket as he started to buckle back into the co-pilot's seat, backpack already re-attached to the safety clip and he pulled it out. "Okay, Cyke says she needs a couple more hours of observation before he's going to let her do a simulated emergency landing." He tapped out a message back, and then set the phone on the clip next to the seat. "And to give her like half an hour in the co-pilot seat once we're at full height. Fair enough. Prepping for take-off. Dazz, since you're tagging along, you get to do the pre-flight safety checklist." He tossed Alison the clipboard and pen. "Read 'em off."
Grinning, Sooraya turned back to the displays in front of them, waiting for Alison's first point. "Engine? That's idle.... Flaps... ready for take off." They quickly ran through a few more items before she accepted back the clipboard. "Go buckle yourself in. You get to hit the basketball field button when you can fly on your own." She winked at Alison, smirked at Kyle and hit the button.
Kyle glanced over his shoulder as the engines started up. 'What you think, we have about ten minutes before Alison explodes into a little pile of disco confetti from sheer excitement?" He grinned at Sooraya. "Plus, if we can't find Hawkeye in the swamp, we have our own mega flashlight. Just turn on some really loud techno metal..."
Sooraya glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the young woman nearly vibrating in her seat. "Less, I'd say." She quickly returned her eyes to the controls in front of her as the plane started to vibrate. "VTOL ready for take off. Let's go." With a steady movement she flicked the final few buttons and pushed the lever away from her, feeling the power build under the plane.
The flight from New York to Florida was unsettlingly fast in a plane that could easily hit Mach 3. Kyle had enough time after getting to altitude to eat half the turkey sandwich he'd packed, and then started unhooking his harness. "Yo, Cyke wants you to have 30 minutes in the co-pilot seat not touching anything." He said, over his shoulder to Alison. "Legit, he said no touching just watching instruments, we're mostly on auto-pilot and Dust has the main seat anyway." He swung his long legs over the seat and climbed out. "All yours. Dust, you think we're gonna have to get the prybar to get her back out of the chair once the timer's up?" He grinned, wide and easy. "What's the thing you say, that's like, it's in God's hands now?"
"Inshallah, you mean? And I am sure Alison won't mind giving the seat back, won't you?" Dust gave her a quick wink before quickly sweeping over her instruments and glancing over to Kyle and Alison. "Have we had any further updates one Hawkeye's location? Or will we still be looking for a needle in a haystack? And Alison, why don't you tell me what you remember about all these instruments?"
Alison hopped up from her chair where she'd been sitting in increasingly annoyed silence for the duration of the trip. "Finally!" she exclaimed. "You guys do know I could hear that entire thing right? You don't have to be so mean to me." Even as she was getting into the chair she was pouting.
It was admittedly a very hard emotion to maintain sitting behind the controls of a supersonic jet, though.
"I only make fun of you if I like you and think you're cool." Kyle said, still grinning exactly like an older sibling who was about to ruffle a younger sibling's hair. "You were so excited to fly that you practically were glowing." He stuck one finger into the corona of light that ebbed out of Alison and ruffled her hair with his free hand. "Oh wait."
"Be careful you don't burn your finger off." Sooraya stated dryly, though she tossed a quick wink at Alison in reassurance. "Otherwise Alison here might just end up as my copilot. We wouldn't hear the end of that from Scott."
There was a long beat as everything was silent except for the slowly dimming and pulsing aura around Alison from the sound of the engines. "...Kyle, be a dear and stick your whole hand back in there for a second, would you?" she asked sweetly.
"They grow back." Kyle already had one finger in the light, it was a little warm but like a warm summer day at the beach, not like sticking his hand in a class 2 laser. "Technically right now she is your co-pilot and I'm the guy about to go raid the MRE box for peanut butter crackers." He stopped poking Alison's happy excited little corona and made his way out of the cockpit, calling out a "Hey, we stocked the good halal ones with the tortillas! You guys need snacks?"
"I wouldn't say no to a cracker or two." Sooraya called back. "And some bottled water." Glancing back too, she asked: "How about you, Alison?"
"I will take," Alison said, doing her best to not touch all the shiny knobs and dials, "the sugariest drink we have on hand, please. The occasion calls for it."
"One off-brand Gatorade in electric lime color and one water, and snacks coming up." Climbing into the jump seat with snacks and a checklist was... remarkably boring, now that he was actually getting to fly the plane. Alison wasn't wrong that it was extremely cool.
Kyle just wasn't going to admit it to her.
And, some time later and a plane ride secured back home, they were all back in the van. Torn, swampy clothing had been removed, hydration and snacks had been procured, and the only reminder of all that had just happened was the large, sodden piece of sophisticated driftwood sitting in the trunk.
Also the stares.
Namor has always attempted to cultivate an air of cold calculation, but even under the scrutiny of everyone (who wasn't driving, as Alani had her eyes safely on the road and her own thoughts) he still maintained the self possession of a true ruler. Confident in his power and utterly unafraid.
He was perhaps still more visibly swamp-worn than anyone else in his still shirtless, windblown state, but he sat like a conquering king.
The king didn't look like anyone who had done anything wrong — he looked like a soldier who had fought a battle and won, and he wore that triumph like a crown.
"You may begin," he allowed.
Alani looked up to the rear view mirror only briefly before looking back at the road, left thumb tapping out a tuneless beat as she finally turned the cruise control on. “What are we beginning now?” She asked shortly.
Then her face quickly became all false cheer. “Oh, the lovely mission we just had. Thank you, Namor, ever the diplomat. Clint, darling, would you like to begin?”
Clint felt a little bit like he'd just been called on to answer the first question his English teacher asked him and he hadn't done the reading or actually read the SparkNotes or anything. Then his brain reoriented itself and he felt like pointing out that he could tell how much time Alani had been spending with Fi just by that 'darling' she'd used might not be good for his health or wellbeing. "Right," he said, stalling for time. "So. That was... a shit show. What actually happened to piss off our friend, the swamp nymph?"
“There was a breakdown in communication,” Meggan began carefully, as she went with all the delicacy that she could muster under the circumstances. She wasn’t sure if she should even mention the comment with Namor in the vicinity, or what Namor had destroyed, but it had to all come up in a mission report at some point anyway. “What was perceived as an insult toward a certain other nature spirit party caused a big reaction, which led to fury.”
"Fury," Clint said leadingly, eyebrows raised significantly as he very slowly turned to look at Namor.
"Righteous fury," Namor clarified with an enthusiastic nod. He even added a little 'you may continue' gesture.
"How old are you?" Matt asked rhetorically. "And you are a king? Because, it seems to me that after all this time, you would have a better understanding of diplomacy and respecting other's kingdoms than what you've just demonstrated."
"Please avail us," and the icy tone that chilled Namor's voice radiated through the car, "Of your own dealings between the seen and unseen powers of the world, lawyer. You humans have the belief that everything follows your rules. Your timelines. Your values. My kingdom was lost, lawyer, and there was no reclaiming those ruins."
There was a sharp undercurrent there of that same righteous fury that was far, far closer to true rage.
"Their remains were not her domain. They needed to be put to rest."
"Not her domain? One hundred percent, I get it. Needed to be put to rest? Sure. But-" And here she made very sharp use of the word as she spoke to the king. Alani did not take her eyes off the road, though her hands tightened on the steering wheel before she seemed to catch herself and loosen her hold. "Your actions could have endangered Meggan... and myself." She tacked on as an afterthought.
"You can be as passionate as you want with your actions, but you need to communicate that plan before you throw other people into it. Because we did not agree to that."
Meggan nodded in solemn agreement. It was everyone caught in the crossfire that she was really concerned about, and just how poorly it could have gone. “We understand that they needed a final resting place. Exploding urns were a surprise.”
She phrased her next statement as lightly as she could, though it was still a pleading request in the end. “Just...please, in the future try not to then piss off the being that could smite us a thousand different ways in a tenth of a second with a fingernail—if they have one, anyway--if they were feeling insulted or betrayed because of you feeling understandably insulted, too? If you could. Please?”
Clint had followed the conversation as it went, eyes trained on each speaker in turn, before refocusing on Namor. "So what I'm hearing is - you found the remains of some of your people in the swamp. That right?"
Namor's focus, however, was busy flitting between Alani and Meggan. "We," and he leaned on this like a crutch, "Are ashamed to consider that either of you would not know I would happily put myself between the wrath of any angry god and your safety."
He took a steadying breath.
"I did not anticipate the unquenchable fury that stirred when I looked upon what was left of my p--" Namor closed his eyes, expression chilling over as he buried that line of thought. "We failed to consider the embodiment of that overflooded dredge water would go after you. Disgusting."
“I understand that you would. I do,” Meggan calmly assured him. And she did! She would never ever doubt that he would help to protect her or Alani or someone else. “It was just that your thought that you were being willfully insulted caused that situation, and the barbs flowed both ways. That reaction was what led to bigger reactions for us.”
Alani sighed, because she could empathize, she could understand what Namor was saying. And she didn't want him punished. Especially as, as far as she could tell, Namor was apologizing... in his own way. But how to get her thoughts across. Aside from pulling over so she could make eye contact. "We have to do better as a team, because we are a team, and when we're on the field it's us who has each other's backs. I want to have your back, Namor. I want to believe you have mine."
Again she drummed against the wheel. "I am sorry. What we found wasn't what I'd hoped."
One of the Atlantean's eyebrows twitched in the tiniest of microexpressions as he worked very hard to weigh the feelings of his friends against an ingrained need to never apologize and never surrender. "It shames me that you all would think that lowly of me," he tried to apologize with slow, deliberate words. "Yet I see how I have failed all of you," he surrendered with a low sigh.
The back and forth seemed to have calmed everyone down a bit, at least, and Clint reached over to give Namor's shoulder a squeeze after he caught that microexpression. "You haven't failed us, man." He dropped his hand a moment later, then glanced toward the back where Molly and America had racked out. "I don't think anybody would've handled that kind of thing well. I'm just glad we all came out of it okay. And hey, we've got some tech Molly and I can work on, which is way more than we had before."
Matt was certain that Namor might have been a king, but that didn't mean he was a good one. "So, we make a plan and we execute it going forward so that these things don't happen again. If nothing else, wet make new mistakes and continue to learn from them."
Meggan certainly couldn’t think that Namor was a failure in any capacity. Even if he had caused them to be in a terrible situation, it wasn't like he was aiming to do all of that on purpose. She was just grateful that he was willing to listen to their grievances. “Yeah, we’ll work it out as we go along, and just start growing together!” It might sound a little corny, but she felt like it was still what they were aiming for.
The comment had tugged a smile out of Alani, which she did nothing to hide. "Exactly, Meggan. And if our scientists can figure out what was on that log, we've got something from this encounter. Just, can't take you to the Everglades ever again, it seems, Namor." Not that she could see the royal liking Florida at all, but she wasn't going to touch the statement he'd made, still turning it over in the back of her head. "Is there something you wanted to bring up to the class, your highness?"
"We are assured that anything found would be price enough for never visiting that swamp again," was his ego-driven automatic response, but Namor's far away gaze out the window hinted that deeper things were being processed. His face hardened as he returned his attention to the audience in the van. "I was able to briefly repower the city through The Sacred Trident. We... had stories that each city held a memory of our people's history. I believe that may be key to what we saw."
Meggan mulled over the beauty he had shown them, of what had once been able to thrive there, before it had fallen. She nodded solemnly. “I hope you get your answers, or more keys.” She also really hoped he could find whatever he could without getting himself summarily banned from other watery places, but really. Given the topic of conversation, that had to be implied.
“I hope so as well,” was all Namor had to offer.
There was little conversation the rest of the trip to the Blackbird.
Kyle and Sooraya head for the Blackbird to help eXcalibur only to find Alison already there and volunteering (as tribute) to fly to Florida.
"Flight controls - free and correct." Sooraya ticked off another checkmark on her list, then glanced up at Kyle. "That was the last one from my list... how're you doing?"
"Cyclops veto'd my adding a 'make sure plane has juice boxes' to the checklist.' Kyle said, in a remarkably jovial way for a man who had the backpack first aid kit at his feet. "Landing gear's ready to undeploy." He adjusted his seat again, not for physical comfort. It was not his first time in the co-pilot seat, it was the first time and Sooraya had been cleared to fly together. Just for good measure, he took photos of the checklists and texted them to Scott.
"No worries about the juice boxes. I made sure to pack some food and drink and I snuck a couple in there for you. As well as some dry sweats and towels for Clint. Man, the stuff that guy gets up to." Sooraya nodded at the safely stowed packs. "Before we take off though, you have that first aid kit secured? I don't wanna hear Scott if we even dent the smallest things."
Kyle reached down and tugged on the backpack, showing it was safely attached to the seat with a carabiner clip and a short bungee cord.
Then he swore, blunting the profanity into a faux-profanity, mindful of Sooraya, as the metal end of the bungee yanked free of the metal clip, the end frayed and unraveling. "Aw, bless it." He unbuckled his seatbelts, and unfolded from the seat. "I'll grab another bungee." He hit the lever to lower the ramp as he came out of the cockpit, and dropped out of the plane, only to catch a steady flash as he hit the ground. "Score! Yo, Dazzler, toss me a six inch bungee? I gotta secure the first aid backpack in the 'Bird."
The sound of shoes on the gantry (properly chonky boots for the most 'thud' for the step) was about all the warning Kyle got as Alison seemed to cross the room in a flash effectively appear on the ramp behind him. She had a coiled-up bungee in one hand, but probably more alarming was the backpack of her own on her back.
"Scott said I should come too!" There was that... annoying glint in her eye that could really only best be summed up as 'the annoying younger sibling knows something that's going to drive her older brother up the wall and cannot wait to tell him'. "C'mon, let's gooooo!"
Sooraya looked up from double checking her list and her eyebrow rose. "Wait what? Scott said you could come? Did he say why?" She shot Kyle a quizzical glance, wondering if he had heard anything from their staid leader. Usually he would have let them know.
Alison shrugged, dropping hard into one of the chairs behind the flight controls. "Something about learning how to crash or whatever. I was a little more focused on the fact that I get to fly the freaking plane!" She was practically vibrating in her seat.
Kyle's phone buzzed in his jacket pocket as he started to buckle back into the co-pilot's seat, backpack already re-attached to the safety clip and he pulled it out. "Okay, Cyke says she needs a couple more hours of observation before he's going to let her do a simulated emergency landing." He tapped out a message back, and then set the phone on the clip next to the seat. "And to give her like half an hour in the co-pilot seat once we're at full height. Fair enough. Prepping for take-off. Dazz, since you're tagging along, you get to do the pre-flight safety checklist." He tossed Alison the clipboard and pen. "Read 'em off."
Grinning, Sooraya turned back to the displays in front of them, waiting for Alison's first point. "Engine? That's idle.... Flaps... ready for take off." They quickly ran through a few more items before she accepted back the clipboard. "Go buckle yourself in. You get to hit the basketball field button when you can fly on your own." She winked at Alison, smirked at Kyle and hit the button.
Kyle glanced over his shoulder as the engines started up. 'What you think, we have about ten minutes before Alison explodes into a little pile of disco confetti from sheer excitement?" He grinned at Sooraya. "Plus, if we can't find Hawkeye in the swamp, we have our own mega flashlight. Just turn on some really loud techno metal..."
Sooraya glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the young woman nearly vibrating in her seat. "Less, I'd say." She quickly returned her eyes to the controls in front of her as the plane started to vibrate. "VTOL ready for take off. Let's go." With a steady movement she flicked the final few buttons and pushed the lever away from her, feeling the power build under the plane.
The flight from New York to Florida was unsettlingly fast in a plane that could easily hit Mach 3. Kyle had enough time after getting to altitude to eat half the turkey sandwich he'd packed, and then started unhooking his harness. "Yo, Cyke wants you to have 30 minutes in the co-pilot seat not touching anything." He said, over his shoulder to Alison. "Legit, he said no touching just watching instruments, we're mostly on auto-pilot and Dust has the main seat anyway." He swung his long legs over the seat and climbed out. "All yours. Dust, you think we're gonna have to get the prybar to get her back out of the chair once the timer's up?" He grinned, wide and easy. "What's the thing you say, that's like, it's in God's hands now?"
"Inshallah, you mean? And I am sure Alison won't mind giving the seat back, won't you?" Dust gave her a quick wink before quickly sweeping over her instruments and glancing over to Kyle and Alison. "Have we had any further updates one Hawkeye's location? Or will we still be looking for a needle in a haystack? And Alison, why don't you tell me what you remember about all these instruments?"
Alison hopped up from her chair where she'd been sitting in increasingly annoyed silence for the duration of the trip. "Finally!" she exclaimed. "You guys do know I could hear that entire thing right? You don't have to be so mean to me." Even as she was getting into the chair she was pouting.
It was admittedly a very hard emotion to maintain sitting behind the controls of a supersonic jet, though.
"I only make fun of you if I like you and think you're cool." Kyle said, still grinning exactly like an older sibling who was about to ruffle a younger sibling's hair. "You were so excited to fly that you practically were glowing." He stuck one finger into the corona of light that ebbed out of Alison and ruffled her hair with his free hand. "Oh wait."
"Be careful you don't burn your finger off." Sooraya stated dryly, though she tossed a quick wink at Alison in reassurance. "Otherwise Alison here might just end up as my copilot. We wouldn't hear the end of that from Scott."
There was a long beat as everything was silent except for the slowly dimming and pulsing aura around Alison from the sound of the engines. "...Kyle, be a dear and stick your whole hand back in there for a second, would you?" she asked sweetly.
"They grow back." Kyle already had one finger in the light, it was a little warm but like a warm summer day at the beach, not like sticking his hand in a class 2 laser. "Technically right now she is your co-pilot and I'm the guy about to go raid the MRE box for peanut butter crackers." He stopped poking Alison's happy excited little corona and made his way out of the cockpit, calling out a "Hey, we stocked the good halal ones with the tortillas! You guys need snacks?"
"I wouldn't say no to a cracker or two." Sooraya called back. "And some bottled water." Glancing back too, she asked: "How about you, Alison?"
"I will take," Alison said, doing her best to not touch all the shiny knobs and dials, "the sugariest drink we have on hand, please. The occasion calls for it."
"One off-brand Gatorade in electric lime color and one water, and snacks coming up." Climbing into the jump seat with snacks and a checklist was... remarkably boring, now that he was actually getting to fly the plane. Alison wasn't wrong that it was extremely cool.
Kyle just wasn't going to admit it to her.
