Jack strolled out of the car in front of the airport. He smiled and waved at his ride, a nice young Japanese couple with red faces and disheveled clothing. It was never hard for Jack to get around anywhere. With a wide grin locked on his face, Jack swaggered his way to the private terminal that held his jet. Unfortunately it also held the Champion's team jet. Jack looked around for any sign of the other team but it looked like he had gotten there first. That was for the better, much less awkward that way. Red Jack took a moment to drink in the sight of his private jet. While both his and the Champion's jets were both modern, sleek, and fast, Jack's was a great deal more flashy. Some would say self-indulgent. The private plane was large, smooth, and pleasing to the eye. Just how he liked it. The white and red color scheme with the bloody helm of his family emblazoned on the side stood out among the other jets on the tarmac. His father and brother rarely used it. Dad liked to use Nether Gates to get around and good 'ol Danny stayed at home most of the time anyway. Jack and his sisters were the ones who liked to go on trips, and he had even brought a few of them over with him. Rosie would have killed him if he left her behind. Of course when Rosie found out, all the girls just had to go. With all their entourages. Thank Oberon that the plane was so damned large. 

Luckily, they would all still be busy shopping and partying and deflowering and what not. At least someone had been having a good time while Jack had been stewing in his hotel room. It seemed the flight crew had arrived ahead of him and the plane was pretty much ready to take off, they were just waiting on him and the others. Jack, dressed in his uniform, ascended the stairway to the plane. The interior was just as lavish and lush. Basilisk leather seats, wet bar, and a whole crew of scrumptious male and female flight attendants. Very choice. The pilots, the attendants, all of them had been serving the family since Jack was a child. To a man they were half-bloods, some of them were in their fifties but they looked no older than him. All of them were white of teeth, smooth of skin, and pleasing to the senses. They greeted him warmly and Jack smiled back. He took a seat and grinned at a pale skinned and dark haired girl named Cynthia, [color=red] "Keep the beer coming dear, I've had Japanese for too long and I need a taste of home." [/color] There was a pub back in Shadow Manhattan owned by an alchemist gnome everyone called Hugo. Jack doubted that was his real name but that's what they called him. Hugo was gruff but he knew his beer. Best microbrew in town. Hugo probably would have killed him if he found out that Jack kept his supply on ice though. He was old fashioned like that. 

Cynthia came back with one of Hugo's miracles cracked open and Jack took a moderate sip. Ah, Heaven. Jack supposed it was only fitting an alchemist would make such liquid gold. Jack downed the rest of the bottle and Cynthia obligingly took it away and provided him another, [color=pink]"Are you sure you should be drinking? You're going to have a fight aren't you?" [/color] Jack nursed this one a bit more and smiled back at her, [color=red] "I fight better with some alcohol in me. Hmm some music wouldn't be amiss." [/color] Jack pushed some buttons on his chair and the top of the line speaker system started playing a quiet ethereal tune. Equal parts melodic and haunting. It was a composition by Aglaope the Siren. Siren song may be dangerous but it was beautiful, and played through artificial means it did not have the same mystical effect. Jack closed his eyes and quietly hummed along, sipping his beer. Something was missing.... ah. Cynthia seemed to read his mind, [color=pink] "Foot rub?" [/color] Jack grinned, [color=red] "If you insist."[/color] Cynthia slid off Jack's foot wraps and got to work, her smooth graceful hands massaged his feet skillfully. Red Jack sighed in contentment. A beer, music, a beautiful woman rubbing his feet, this was what he needed. All the tension and trouble didn't go away but it was put out of his mind for a moment. Bliss. 

Jack soaked in the pleasure for a few more moments before a buzz from his phone alerted him. He sighed and opened his eyes, opening the notification. His eyebrow arched as he read. Jack pursed his lips and finished his beer, asking another attendant, a nice tall man called Christian to bring him another. And so Jack waited for his team to show up. They couldn't miss the plane. Jack called for grapes from the Summer Court as he waited for his comrades. As his new team came aboard one by one, Jack gave each of them a winning smile and a cheerful greeting, gesturing them all to sit and kick back. He offered drinks and refreshment to each as Cynthia finished her massage and moved to his lap, rubbing his shoulders as he made small talk. When the last person arrived, the stair was wheeled away, the door was pulled up, and the plane began to taxi down the runway. 

Jack finished his third beer and the grapes and faithful Cynthia took them away before they all strapped in. Jack glanced out the window as the plane rose. He had a particularly nasty view of the crater from here. Jack turned away and thought of better times as the plane eventually leveled out. His attendants, knowing what he'd want, brought a nice assortment of platters and asked his companions for drink orders. Jack got another beer. He processed alcohol a fair bit better than humans, he'd have to drink a whole lot more for it to be a problem. Jack spoke up to the team, [color=red] "Alright we have quite a bit of time until we reach Australia. We have time to relax a little, and even make some plans. Tinhead Ned isn't the only problem. There are reports of another killer on the loose. Unknown designation. But witnesses describe the assailant as a talking skeleton. He killed one civilian and severely wounded several police officers. He shows resistance against small arms fire and a possible healing factor as well as super strength. His limits are unknown, so he is not to be underestimated. Assume he is stronger than you and that nothing short of blowing him to bits can stop him. We're possibly dealing with what could be a Revenant but that is purely speculation." [/color]

Jack looked them all in the eye, motioning Cynthia back to his lap before continuing, [color=red] "Now we have a choice. We can go after our old friend Ned. Or we can nip this guy in the bud. Tinhead is a known quantity, and we know almost nothing about this guy. In my opinion that makes him possibly more dangerous. Now we know that the Champions will take Ned to task, but we can't assume that they'll take care of this other guy. I say we stop his rampage before it gets worse. That way we don't trip over the other team's shoes, and we get some recognition for taking down a new powerful murderer. Thoughts? This isn't a dictatorship, I want to hear your opinions. Afterwards we take a simple majority vote about who to go after. I vote new guy." [/color] Jack traced a finger along Cynthia's back as he sat back, sipped his beer, and listened to what his team had to say. They were all colorful, strong-willed individuals. No doubt they each had their own two cents to put in. Once a consensus was reached, Jack nodded, their course set as the plane sped to Australia. 

[color=red] "Now, is there anything else any of you would like to discuss? If not, we have some time to ourselves. Ask my crew for anything and they'll try their best to accommodate. Drinks, food, company, anything. Just because we're all under the microscope doesn't mean we can't have fun as friends." [/color]