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[aimedforthemoon]

To be fair, there is nothing fundamentally wrong with X-wings; they are perfectly useful, adaptable starfighters. And, to be logical, Flight Officer Yazycova knows that she really does need to learn how to fly them.

It's just that today*, she's in a bad mood and thus comes walking into Bar muttering darkly under her breath about trying to fly a submarine.

(In Russian, fortunately - military pilots have never been people to mind their language.)

The flying manual gets dumped onto the Bar with slightly more force than necessary (there is a pause and an apology) and the tiny pilot scans the bar briefly for something - someone - else to pay attention to.

*a day that is after the yet-to-be-posted Battle of Endor, thanks to the joys of millitime.

ooc: and I love you all dearly, but I have to call slowtime as my brain is fading <3

tiny!tag: billy kaplan, ellen park (vault 101 dweller), teddy altman, the russian astronaut

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Well, there's the Korean-looking woman in the blue and gold jumpsuit over at one of the tables; she's got a knapsack next to her chair, and she's staring at what looks like a Coca-Cola bottle full of something that glows blue-purple almost brightly enough to read by. Does that count?

(All things considered, the soda is probably the more noteworthy of the two. But still.)

[aimedforthemoon]

It counts.




At least, the drink does.



(she really, really hopes the woman doesn't drink it. It looks like the kind of thing that mushroom clouds come from)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Ellen's not likely to try, no. She's having a little trouble accepting that the bottle is safe to poke with one finger.

Eventually, though, she glances up and notices that someone else is looking its way. "I have no idea what it is," she admits. "The bottle says Nuka-Cola, but Nuka-Cola doesn't look like that...."

[aimedforthemoon]

The issue of X-wings and their maneuverability forgotten for the moment, Esfir leans forward on her stool, elbows on her knees.

"Nuka-Cola?"

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

A hand reaches out to rescue the manual from an ignominious fall to the ground.

Then the owner of that hand, after he's studied the cover for a moment, asks in the distinctly Corellian accent she should have good cause to know by now:
"A letter to Incom expressing dissatisfaction would probably go further."

[aimedforthemoon]

The accent? She knows very, very well.

The voice? Not so much.

She turns to look up at the owner of the voice, regards him for a moment, and then says,

"Once I've beaten it," she says, her own Russian accent still as noticeable as ever.

('It' here refers to the X-wing)

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

He makes a face at her reference to his beloved ships as such a derisive 'it'.
"Stars, you're an A-wing pilot, aren't you?" He sighs resignedly, his voice still rough from his immune system's earlier trouncing.

[aimedforthemoon]

Beat, and then her mouth curves into a half-smile.

"That obvious?"

[52-dropoff.livejournal.com]

Charlie, once again watching the workings of the bar from above, sees Esfir's arrival, and her fit of pique.

A voice echoes from above. "Too much homework?"

[aimedforthemoon]

"They move like submarines on a beach," comes the slightly snarled reply.

[52-dropoff.livejournal.com]

"They...I'm going to guess that your latest assignment isn't working as well as your previous ones?" He drops down to the bar and then jumps to the floor.

[aimedforthemoon]

"These are...most people fly these ones. And they are useful, so I need to know how to. But they are very different from my A-wing."

[heyfootballhead.livejournal.com]

There's a football head examining a model airplane at a nearby table, which might be appropriately distracting.

It's an open-cockpit plane, and the remote control sitting next to it suggests it's a working model.

Arnold is running system checks making sure the plane is in working order before he takes it outside to fly it.

[aimedforthemoon]

It is, rather. Enough that she gets to her feet and walks over to have a better look.

[heyfootballhead.livejournal.com]

Arnold, in the meantime, is frowning at some scratches in the paint. Apparently Abner the pig managed to get his hooves on it at some point.

That won't keep it from flying, though, so he doesn't worry about it. Instead he picks it up to examine the underside.

[aimedforthemoon]

"Nice plane."

[alt-hulk.livejournal.com]

How about Teddy Altman, down a few seats and looking fairly nervous while drinking a Mountain Dew?

[aimedforthemoon]

He works, although given Esfir's rather sharp gaze, she might not help the nervousness.

"Teddy?"

[alt-hulk.livejournal.com]

"...Esfir? Wow, I haven't seen you for a while!" He brightens a little, scooting closer to talk. Then he notices the manual. "Mandatory fun?"

[bluespells.livejournal.com]

Billy's thought process runs: 'oooh, X-wing!' Really, that's pretty much it. You can tell there's a lack of higher brain functions by the metaphorical drooling expression.

[aimedforthemoon]

Typical boy. No sense of the finer things in life.





Like A-Wings.

[bluespells.livejournal.com]

Well, yes.

"Hi."

[hapan-heiress.livejournal.com]

Amelia's taken to hiding under booths again, watching the feet of the people and losing herself in thought, her fingers clutching the small Ewok toy her mother had given her. It's purely by chance (or maybe by the Force) that she chose the exact moment Esfir walked in to crawl out from under her hiding spot.

She's tired of this aching weight on her chest, of not being able to move on. She feels like she's beating a dead animal, like she's disappointing people when she stumbles to them, sniffling already...but at this moment she doesn't care.

Esfir gets a tug on her pants.

[aimedforthemoon]

Esfir looks down, and the irritation is gone.

"Hey, milkha," she says warmly, as another woman might say 'hey, sweetie'.

[hapan-heiress.livejournal.com]

Amelia rubs her nose.




And then her lower lip wibbles. "H-hey."