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[@Plank Sinatra][@HereComesTheSnow] [@Write] [@Inkarnate] [@Altered Tundra][/center]
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[center][h2][i][color=cadetblue]Twelve Hours Ago[/color][/i][/h2][/center]
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There's almost nothing more exhilarating than flying along at speeds human beings were never meant to reach, flaunting mastery over trivial things like gravity and accelerating. Defiance of the natural order. The slim odds prevailing, the victory at the eleventh hour. The feeling of flying down the highway with the top down, or skydiving and trusting your pack to save you. All those things that give you little jolts of adrenaline. 

None of them had anything on hanging in the air, perfectly centered between gravity and her own power.

Rebekah felt her momentum fail and gravity begin to take hold, the portal straight to an endless purgatory still nipping at her heels. For endless milliseconds she hung perfectly suspended, caught in a moment of triumph over such a beast. Then she felt the yank on her arm and gravity overtook her, again turning her into a swift projectile though this time on a rapid [i]de[/i]scent. Her hair once again streamed behind her like a comet's tail during her brief drop of a few dozen feet, the ground looking [i]thoroughly[/i] unfriendly. How she avoided injury was a new question.

Jonas had efficiently yanked her out of danger, but unless he intended to spin her like a shirt on dry cycle there wasn't much he could do to slow her down. No, that wasn't a bad idea; just a smaller axis. She [i]was[/i] already on the right approach. Her left hand relinquished the chain, leaving her untethered to place both hands flat on the ground when she drew near. Her elbows bent with the impact, forward momentum carrying her forty five, sixty, seventy five, ninety degrees to vertical; and then she continued. Bending all the way backwards until she could plant her feet on the ground and repeat the flip twice more. 

She laughed again when she came to a stop on her feet again, a mere handful of steps from the truck she'd started at. She spun the casing she'd dropped and picked up again during her flip around her fingers, taking an exaggerated bow in front of Dana and her friends at the truck. 

[color=cadetblue]"Landspeed record on foot, for sure."[/color] The dark-haired girl said, pushing her hair back out of her face with a laugh that bordered on a giggle. The teachers were talking, and she heard them; she just didn't really care. Her heart was pounding and her brain was on an endorphin rush of unimaginable proportions. All of the pyrotechnics unleashed in so short a span, between Highwind's arrows and her shells, had ash and dust floating down onto her head. Not that she payed it any more mind than the teachers. [color=cadetblue]"Nice catch, Joey. Marcy, I'm keeping this."[/color]

She tossed the shell up and caught it, using her other hand to pull herself up into the truckbed where her Japanese friend had been watching. 

[color=cadetblue]"Nice of them to play cleanup, huh? Cocky teachers can kiss my ass, I tell you."[/color] The Daughter of Athena giggled, for certain this time, and leaned in while she picked up her sandals to plant a quick kiss on Dana Harada. [color=cadetblue]"Better have been watching. Come on, let's get packed up. Teachers are going to want to lecture us. I'm going to need to go to bed when they're done."[/color]

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Contrary to her energized behavior the night before [color=cadetblue](thanks, Haluk, all the rush no hangover)[/color] Rebekah Cross was asleep like a rock when morning rolled around.

She couldn't [i]forget[/i] the lectures, but she wasn't bothered. What, was expulsion a threat? Damned school wasn't going to get her hired anywhere anyway. 

[color=cadetblue]"Ngh."[/color]

Morning already.