2020-02-28 - Fire Fly with Me

Summary:

It's been a moment! Jean and Oliver return to the other side.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Fri Feb 28 16:46:42 2020
Location: RP Room 1

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

None

oliver-queenjean-grey

Grunting, Oliver hefts one last sack and settles it into the passenger area of his helicopter. Though they're on the modern side of the barrier, everything he's loaded up has been distinctly antiquated. A small wooden barrel, extra quivers of arrows, a few oilskin bags, and a curious contraption made of bamboo and paper, vaguely cone-shaped, but with straight sides. The equipment had been stashed out of sight not far from their original entry point, presumably for a situation just like this one.

The helicopter itself is a small military model, meant to carry no more than a pilot and three passengers. It's anyone's guess as to what will happen to it when it crosses over, but it ought to be interesting.

After a final gear check, Ollie glances over at his companion, a person who's probably getting impatient by now. "In theory, all of this should be the same in there as it is out here," he explains. "Except the bird. I'm a little nervous about that part. You should be able to keep up with whatever it turns into, though. Anyway, you ready?"

There was no expectation of them returning too soon, but all the materials that they needed to cross the border were at the ready, and this time, Jean takes a more civilian approach. No flashy X-Man outfit with the too small skirt that made her uncomfortable, now it was an all leather body suit with the appropriate heel-less boot, a yellow X strapped to her chest and gloves. Not even a mask to hide her face, for if Jean didn't want to be seen, she truly didn't need to be.

"I'm ready."

She wasn't impatient at all, she was getting the mind ready, considering deadening the nerves and other neuro path-ways that'll make her a feeling thing, into unfeeling. "You do realize that there is a chance that this helicopter and whomever is piloting will not arrive the same, right?" Pointing out the obvious. "We may cross the barrier and wind up on the back of a dragon."

"That's why I'd suggest you fly alongside, at least until we figure that part out." Oliver shrugs one shoulder. "I can't think of any other way I can cross that much territory with enough time left to make a difference, much less carry all this stuff. This way, you won't have to waste energy hauling me around."

He sounds more confident than he feels, but still flashes a thumbs-up as he hops in the pilot's seat. "Don't worry. It'll be fun."

Jean didn't have to say it; the idea in itself was crazy. She steps away from the entrance of the helicopter, her hair soon tied into a ponytail as best as it could be with a quick motion of her hands. "You're eventually going to get yourself killed, Queen.." She kids, a clear smile upon her face, arms lifted to the side which raises her into the air, not too high, but high enough.

"Hopefully, I won't be there to see it. You're a pretty cool sidekick."

And without a parting word, she flies -right- into the barrier, disappearing upon the other side.

Though she's already gone, Ollie chuckles as he spins up the rotors. "Sidekick. That's cute."

A few seconds later he's in the air and ready to cross over. There's an instant of hesitation right at the border, then he plunges in.

The change in perspective is abrupt and jarring. One moment, he's comfortably seated, strapped in, and gripping a familiar set of controls. An instant later, he's in a saddle, his feet are in stirrups, and he's gripping reins. He's not riding a horse, though. He's astride a giant eagle, which cranes its head around as only a bird of prey can do so it can eyeball him and let out a shrill cry.

To his credit, Oliver sucks in a quick breath, holds it for a moment, then nods and lets it out before accepting that this isn't all that strange for a Friday. "Okay. Easy, Launchpad. Just… you know, fly."

The eagle seems inclined to cooperate, which is good news. It's large, but not nearly as big as the helicopter was, and is a sleek, handsome white-and-grey with sharp eyes and a vicious beak. The extra gear Oliver brought is probably in the bags that are attached to its saddle.

"Hooo-hooo-haaaahaha!"

Is heard within the air as Jean remains afloat. Her gloved hands.. which almost look sharp and sinister, covers her mouth as she watches the eagle pass through. Her look is much more the same; long, pointed ears, yet this time, her hair seemingly is on fire whenever she moves, and the leather outfit she wore seemed more fitting of someone in that age who could have been dark military.

Her skin is even more pale, dark make-up around her eyes, fangs that protrude from the canines of her teeth. Her eyes, they were a pitch black, but if one were to look closely, they would see the cosmos within them, swimming.

"I guess there'll be no dying for you today, Oliver!" She calls out, finally moving towards his side to keep up with the eagle with relative ease. "I don't know how time works here, if it's fluent or not. I can only assume we've been gone for a few hours, and rightfully assume that what we're looking for probably isn't going to be there when we get there."

After his initial hesitation, Oliver seems to be settling in pretty comfortably. He's back in the less modern, more ornate version of his usual costume, including a heavier layer of armor to protect his vitals and the side he leads with while wielding his bow.

A few experimental nudges with his knees and tugs on the reins give him a feel for how the newly dubbed Launchpad McQuack responds. "I told you this would be fun!" he replies, grinning. "I've got an idea about that. We can—whoa. I like the new look. Very… Yeah, it's not bad."

There's a measurable pause, a quick cough, then he continues. "We have air superiority of our own now. We can go looking for them if we need to. If we can lure them into the open, I've brought enough toys to set one hell of a trap."

.~{:--------------:}~.

Type "+thelp" for help.

"You think so?" Jean calls out against the wind, then decidedly flies closer to Oliver. The air around her is considerably hot, but not overly so. One wouldn't break a sweat but they would be warmed by her presence. "It's a bit on the nose." She confesses, then gestures. "Scoot up."

With the hope that there was enough room on the saddle, Jean looks ahead. "Half an hour in that direction I believe. If no one is there when we get there, I can rouse them to our location easy."

"Of course. It's very… 'girl you'd never bring home to meet Mom.' I like the fangs." Oliver nudges forward, eliciting an indignant ruffle and squawk from Launchpad as Jean settles behind him. Then the fearsome bird turns around and winks at her.

"I didn't ask for a ride with a sense of humor," Ollie says, snorting out a laugh. "Come on, you heard the lady. Move it, or I'll turn you into a pillow."

Launchpad responds by snapping his wings to their full span and putting on a hell of a lot more speed, making the experience akin to riding an old biplane.

"This place quite possibly does show our true selves.." Jean muses. Was she flirting? Or was she speaking of something else…

The eagle gets a wink in return; one thing that she hardly ever tells anyone is that in fact she could read the minds of intelligent animals, but she lets this one slide.

As they take off into the air, Jean leans in to wrap her arms around Ollie's waist. And as appropriate, chin upon the shoulder so that she could see what he sees. "Are you afraid, Oliver Queen?"

"Only of you." There's no sting in the words. He's smiling, and he settles in comfortably against Jean for their short trip.

From this height and at this speed, the view is breathtaking. As distances and environments work differently here, they not only pass over the forest they'd traveled through, other biomes can be seen in the distance.

"I like it here more than I thought I would," Oliver admits. "I mean, deadly threats aside. The company hasn't been bad, either."

Jean didn't take his answer as an insult, instead, a tiny little squeeze was accidentally given to his middle, and a sigh. Was she smiling? A little! "Me too.." She says quietly, considering. "There are a lot of things that I can do without. The hustle and bustle and easy living? Maybe.." She confesses. "..Are you thinking about staying behind?" For the right reason, she would. "Forgetting about it all, about everything. Living off the fat of the land and making your own way with your bare hands.."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Ollie chuckles good-naturedly. At this point, his little wilderness adventure has finally ceased to be considered a tragic journey and now can be a casual topic of conversation. "When I was… uh, gone, I didn't miss the conveniences after a while. Just the people I left behind. As long as you don't starve or freeze or whatever, life has a way of figuring itself out. That's nice. Simple. A part of me did stay. It'll always sort of be there, you know?"

It could be as honest as he's been about the experience, and there's a wistful quality to what he's saying. After a pause, he shrugs and lets go of the reins long enough to give Jean's arm an answering squeeze. "I don't know if I could stay here, either. That same part of me is a little tempted, though."

"Yeah.." She murmurs as she listens to the story. "..sort of like you left a piece of your heart there." She hugs him again, then smiles, scooting just a little bit closer against his back. Thankfully, the heat wasn't as intense to make him sweat, not that she'd consider it gross.

"It is tempting, I'll admit. And easy. We remove the stones, throw them away. Let our memories go, and just.. live. No worries, no pain, no hurt.. new responsibilities.." She sighs a little in his ear, then leans back, glancing around the area. "Kind of a freedom, is that what you felt at the end of the day?" She then shrugs, then shakes her head. "Don't answer that. Else you'll just lose me to this place forever."

As if he had her to begin with. "We're almost there."

"When your only job is to live, you have no choice but to feel alive." Oliver takes in another deep breath along with a second smile.

Once they start their approach to the village he pulls back on the reins, bringing Launchpad into a slow, spread-winged drift. "So. If we don't find them there, I'll drop you off while I set up my little surprise? I can send Birdbrain out to do some scouting, too."

Launchpad's reply is an indignant caw that somehow also manages to sound like an affirmative.

Point. It was a different perspective that she had never looked at. She releases him as they make their approach to the village, leaving him with a light pat upon the shoulder. "Sounds like a plan.."

Instead of flying up, she does a swan-dive from the side of the saddle, falling into the air like a faerie-princess that she was (dark), and blasting off into the thick of the woods ahead. She lands upon the grounds, stopping just before a wolf. The wolf doesn't look up towards her presence, only continue to eat upon the carcass with his back turned.

"Hey." She says aloud, the wolf not minding her, keeps eating. "I'll wait." The beast grumbles, as she turns to find a spot to settle upon, her legs crossing. "Of course.." She says quietly, "..it's just a few questions that's all."

Meanwhile, Oliver returns to the village that was the site of their first conflict and lands near the road leading in. It only takes a moment to release the saddlebags from Launchpad's back, which slosh heavily when they hit the ground. "Go ahead," he urges.

The eagle doesn't have to be told twice, he leaps into the air and banks off at a different angle from Jean.

Humming quietly under his breath, Ollie unloads his gear and starts putting his plan into action. Extra quivers of arrows are stashed on rooftops and in root cellars. The oilskin bags contain some sort of viscous, nutty-smelling liquid, enough to put down a layer for a substantial length of the road and for plenty of the flat, brush-clogged earth on either side. The barrel he'd loaded up remains a mystery, it's just set aside in the central marketplace where it blends in with the rest of the clutter. The bulky, bamboo and paper construct he brought along is tucked under his arm and hauled up to the first roof he used as a perch, along with a small, cloth sack that he handles as if it's extremely delicate. All in all, a tidy operation for a few minutes' work.

It could have been an hour that passes before Jean was done, already she was exhausted. The wolf remained at her feet the entire time, his breathing quickened, then relaxing.. until he too was spent and resting. Jean stands, wiping away the blood from her nose, nearly staggering to a nearby trunk. "You can fight with us. You and your pack." She says nothing, then nods her head. "Be well, and rest well."

Instead of flying, she walks, attempting to gain her bearings, her feet picking up in its pace. It was arranged, the wolf would send word to his pack, to rouse and rabble suspicion for this area. Jean was sure that the animals were apart of this entire mess, the village was dead. Not even a single bird in the surrounding areas. It was clear that only the bold -eat-.

'Oliver'.. would be the sound of her voice that touches her mind.. 'it will take some time, but I'm on my way back.'

The instinct is to abandon his post and rush to the assist, but Oliver knows that Jean is capable. Probably moreso than himself, though he'd never admit it out loud. It's a difficult impulse to suppress, but he pushes it down.

Though replying to a psychic sending isn't the most intuitive process, Oliver's mind is highly disciplined; a weapon that's been honed and refined. His response is simple:

"Don't worry. We'll be ready."

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