milliways_bar | (no subject)

Outside Milliways it is a nice day. Mostly blue skies, with just enough cloud to be picturesque. Just enough breeze to be pleasant, with the temperature pretty decent for mid-March.

The peace is spoiled by a loud sound not unlike that of a Black Hawk helicopter.

This would be because an Aerospatiale SA-2 Samson has been pulled from the skies of Pandora for a visit, and the pilot is flying the craft over the lake to land on the grass. It's a smooth landing, the two sets of rotors tilting as Trudy moves the controls, but she's far from pleased.

This fact is fairly audible should anyone approach once she climbs out (the cockpit window/door not moving until the blades have stopped spinning, of course). The normally easy-going and laidback pilot is swearing, fluently and multi-lingually, as she inspects her Samson for any damage (none).

This was not how the Chief Warrant Officer had planned on spending her first day flying again, no sir, it is not.

[ooc: *falls over* I love you all, but my brain is dead, so I'm going to have to call slowtime. Will pick up in the morning!]

tiny!tag: trudy chacon

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Thaaaaaaaaaaaat's not the kind of noise Shephard expects to hear around here. He was just getting in one last bit of relaxation before heading back home to his White Forest duties, such as they were. Ain't happening now- he's got to see whatever's making that racket.

Trudy, you have company. He's not saying anything right now, but he's there.

Nori watches the Samson come in to land, hair ruffling in the wind it kicks up.

"Not happy with something?" She might not speak the languages, but she can tell the words aren't pleased.

After reassuring herself that nothing has been damaged by the inter-dimensional traveling - up to and including the paintwork (the big black 16 on the sides, and the two snarling tiger's heads under the cockpit doors are new, and the latter two Trudy spent a lot of time on) - she takes her helmet off, and stows it the cargo-bay next to the doorgun. It's then she notices Adrian.

"Mornin', Corporal," she says, lifting her hand in what is half a salute and half a wave.

Edited 2010-03-24 02:44 (UTC)

For the record - Spanish, Arabic, and other bits and pieces of languages Trudy's picked up over the years.

"No," Trudy says, flatly.

Shephard returns the gesture. "Ma'am," he says. "That, uh... that's your bird, huh?"

Jesus. That looks like someone crammed an Osprey full of steroids and meth at the same time.

"So what is it? 'Cause I don't have to know what you're saying to know you're pissed."

Despite how angry she is - and she is angry, with a crackling, caged simmer that makes the tiger painted on the Samson less a symbol and more a warning - Trudy smirks and pats the side of the craft.

"That she is."

"I ain't supposed to be here, and she," Trudy gestures with her head towards the Samson, "really shouldn't be here. If I can't fly back out, I...got no idea how the fuck I'm gonna explain it."

"Why can't you fly out?"

"Fuckin' damn." Shephard shakes his head, moving forward to observe more closely- not closely enough to touch, you understand, this thing might very well decide it needs blood and grab some of his. Just... more closely. "Now that's got to be one shit of a ride."

"Not sure how I flew in, first up."

Soon it will be time to change for the ball, but Jane found a door and slipped through it.

Everyone seems to be talking of marriage and she is tired of being told what is sensible.

Outside of the Bar will be quiet until the Samsom appears and Jane has no idea if she should run or hide and ends up staring.

...Adrian really needs to see a Scorpion Gunship if he thinks that the Samsons are bad. Or the Dragon Assault ship.

Chacon just grins at him. "Oh, she is fine, trust me."

Edited 2010-03-24 03:10 (UTC)

Adrian's helicopter was designed to seat two and drop some mines on people and that's it. It's like putting a whippet next to a Rottweiler. He glances up at the rotors, heads around towards the front, and comes back again.

"My hat's off to you, ma'am, it really is," he says. "Ain't no power on Earth or in Heaven could get me behind the stick of one of these, I'd reckon it'd try'n take over from me if I tried."

Well, there is at least a humanoid figure that jumps out once the blades have stopped spinning - on the shorter side and stocky, although flightsuits are bad for trying to guess figure. Once the helmet is removed, there is a perky pony-tail.

Although, the voice of the pilot is feminine - low and whiskey-rough, distinctly American, but feminine.

Still, Trudy's cursing, and hasn't managed to notice Jane yet.

"Same way the door shows up where it ain't supposed to be?" Nori suggests. "But you can usually walk back out, so...reason stand you could fly just as easy."

She shrugs.

Jane blinks at the figure who emerges especially when she realizes they're a woman,

"Is something wrong, ma'am?"

By the time he comes back, she's leaning against the edge of the cargo bay, hands in her pockets. Then at his comment (and expression), she just laughs.
The sound is closer to a witch's cackle than anything else, and probably doesn't make her words that believable.

"'Ain't that bad, but thank you kindly." Then she sobers. "Theory is, I should just be able to fly back out, yeah?"

"Yeah, but you can see doors."

"I really, really am not supposed to be here with this," Trudy snaps, gesturing to her Samson.

Well, people farther up the chain of command are always supposed to laugh at you if you show fear or signs of weakness, that's part of the job even if they're not in your direct chain of command. So that's all right.

"Far as I know, yeah," Shephard says. "Might want to keep an eye out over them mountains in the distance. I been up those things more times'n I c'n count on foot and the fuckers're all completely fuckin' wrong."

"Do they float?"

Nori shrugs lightly. "I wouldn't imagine you had a delineated area to fly out of."

"No ma'am. They have one side."

"One. Side."

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