Ok I have one other rp on my list and then I'll finally try to get work done for this one. This weekend's a little busy, but I'm gonna try and get a post up before Monday.
c3p-0h Member
unending foolery
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i like to rp. that's really all there is to say.
Most Recent Posts
so a post finally happened! a few things:
1) i swear to god the toe grabbing thing she did is a legitimate thing, i do it all the time with stuff i'm too lazy to pick up off the ground and whenever i do it in front of mainlanders they look at me like i shot laserbeams out of my eyes. i think maybe it's a hawaii/asian skill? idk. but it's a thing, i promise.
2) the pocketwatch arty grabbed doesn't have to be magical or anything, i more just wrote that in because mok was saying you're more of a reactionary writer so i figured i'd throw in a surprise for you to… react to? >.< do with it what you will
3) i'm gonna list everything arty has just so i can keep track of it
-pants
-top
-blue trenchcoat
-scarf around her head
-silenced foot wraps
-some jewelry she was already wearing
-food stuffs
-knife
-bag
-pencil
-whatever the hell else from a kitchen
-witch's lightning staff
-oseely's rune on her left hand
-rosary
-nura the gryphon (armor but no saddle i think?)
-glowy rock
-non-glowy rock
-rabbit mask
-pocket watch
1) i swear to god the toe grabbing thing she did is a legitimate thing, i do it all the time with stuff i'm too lazy to pick up off the ground and whenever i do it in front of mainlanders they look at me like i shot laserbeams out of my eyes. i think maybe it's a hawaii/asian skill? idk. but it's a thing, i promise.
2) the pocketwatch arty grabbed doesn't have to be magical or anything, i more just wrote that in because mok was saying you're more of a reactionary writer so i figured i'd throw in a surprise for you to… react to? >.< do with it what you will
3) i'm gonna list everything arty has just so i can keep track of it
-pants
-top
-blue trenchcoat
-scarf around her head
-silenced foot wraps
-some jewelry she was already wearing
-food stuffs
-knife
-bag
-pencil
-whatever the hell else from a kitchen
-witch's lightning staff
-oseely's rune on her left hand
-rosary
-nura the gryphon (armor but no saddle i think?)
-glowy rock
-non-glowy rock
-rabbit mask
-pocket watch
A single bare foot, filthy from the cobblestone and wrapped in a torn, ragged cloth, passed the threshold of the temple to step on the wooden panels. The grain was smooth against her skin, old and worn.
Another step in.
As flippant and irreverent as Artemis was, she'd always been able to recognize when something was beyond her. Standing here, in this little temple, at the feet of something divine, Artemis felt small. She was small. She felt pulled in a gravity she couldn't fight. Screams and gunshots reverberated through the city behind her, crashes of lightning ripping apart the air. And here she stood, almost afraid to breathe lest she dishonor some holy being.
In some distant, closed off portion of her mind came the dawning realization that Artemis was in far over her head.
The scrabbling on the rooftop snapped her back to attention, her heart skipping to her throat. Artemis brought a hand to her chest at hearing Nura's chirps and closed her eyes. Damn bird had almost given her a heart attack. How'd she even get here? Hadn't Artemis left Nura in an orchard? Well, she knew that Nura wasn't exactly the most obedient creature – what with how easily Artemis had stolen her. She supposed she should just be thankful that now she didn't have to go any farther to reach Nura. Because no matter what the kid said, Artemis was getting out of here.
But first…
Artemis walked towards the Lady of Light, looking down to see the three elemental platforms. The skin of her left palm tingled the closer she came. It wasn't difficult to guess what Oseely's rune was reacting to – the way the green platform pulsed, bright and alive, while the other two lay dormant was enough of a clue. The handprints only served to drive it home. But the question was... what would happen when all three platforms were alight?
Bright blue eyes flicked back up to look at the Lady of Light – at least, that was who Artemis assumed this was. But who else could she be, with the way the sun seemed to shine in her smile. Actually, she reminded Artemis of her mother; all patience and warmth, but a tired sort of sadness that spoke of old scars and poor decisions.
Maybe the likeness to her mother was why Artemis already felt like a disappointment, she thought sardonically.
She gave a small shake of the head and pushed forward again, slow steps to the foot of the Lady. Her hand itched and stung with each step, the fire dancing above the pedestal. Artemis wondered what would happen if she answered the fire's call and placed her hand down on the pedestal. Likely nothing. Maybe something. Her eyes flicked back up to the Lady – the statue.
Well, there was one way to find out.
Artemis stretched out her hand to touch her palm to the stone. It wasn't a perfect match – the print embedded in the pedestal was comically large and intended for a right hand, and Oseely's rune was on her left. But the stone reacted all the same, emitting a warm, pulsing light. Artemis pulled her hand away and stepped back, holding her breath.
Nothing.
She looked back up at the statue once more.
"Sorry," she whispered with a halfhearted shrug. Her voice, though soft, seemed to cut through the tranquility of the temple, like she was breaking some reverent spell. "I tried."
It was then that a ticking from the back of the temple caught her attention.
"Why is it always ticking," Artemis muttered to herself, immediately tense. The last time she'd heard that sound, she'd woken up in a demonic night forest and had been dropped into a river in front of a giant wolf.
Artemis stood frozen as she listened to the sharp metallic, clicks count the temple's time. The sounds of battle were steadily growing louder outside as the fighting crawled further into the town. She took a moment to steel herself before creeping around the statue, her footfalls the only quiet thing in the town, it seemed.
When it got too dark to see without the light of the moon, Artemis raised her left hand to glare at Oseely's rune.
Fire.
A tiny ember sparked into existence.
"Ha!" Artemis' delight was cut short when the flame flickered out again. The next half a minute was dedicated to creating a small flame above her palm and not have it immediately die. When she was finally successful, Artemis continued on into the back of the temple, still on guard, but now the tiniest bit smug at her candlelight.
She found herself in a ticking room, filled with still metal and cogs. The machinery seemed to tangle inside itself, twisting and bending into hulking shapes. It was a clutter of devices Artemis couldn't imagine the uses for. The ticking was coming from a bronze clock, the only thing still alive in here, it seemed. But it wasn't like any clock Artemis had ever seen. Its many hands were engraved with elemental symbols and an array of plants and animals were drawn about the face. Artemis raised her little light closer to it, tilting her head. Pulling back, she looked down to see a glass cylinder with an open door. A dark, dull stone rested there, reminding Artemis of the glowing one she stole. She reached forward to grab it and looked at it in her palm.
An explosion cracked through the air, shaking the ground. Artemis jumped, her fire extinguishing.
After a few frantic moments of cursing, her light was back. The fighting was definitely getting closer. Artemis dropped the stone in her pocket without a second thought and took a step backwards only for her heel to hit something cold and hard on the ground. She jumped again (but was satisfied when her fire only flickered instead of going out this time) and spun around to see… nothing. At least, nothing living. Artemis sighed, her heart still hammering in her chest.
She looked down to see something glinting in the firelight on the ground. Artemis carefully put the front of her foot over it and curled her toes around something cold and metal. Grabbing the round lump, she raised her knee and turned her leg so she could transfer her grip on the object from her toes to her fingers.
Artemis lowered her foot again as she looked at the… pocket watch? Locket? It was fairly plain save for the scratches and dirt, and smaller than her palm with a long chain attached to the top. She pressed the top button, expecting the cover to open up, only to find it was jammed down and unmoving. Artemis' eyebrows pulled together slightly.
There was another explosion, not as close as the last one, but still loud enough for Artemis to feel the reverberations in her feet. It was time to go.
Hurrying back towards the entrance, Artemis dropped her fire when it was light enough to see again. She gave the Lady of Light one last look before exiting the temple, the two glowing platforms behind her.
Nura squawked as soon as she saw someone exit the temple and jumped down to land heavily on the ground before Artemis. She dropped the Witch's staff at Artemis' feet and shoved her beak in Artemis' face, snuffling and sniffling.
"Yeah, yeah, hey it's me," she said, trying to shove Nura's face away. When Nura finally pulled back, Artemis gave her a quick rub above the beak. "Let's get out of here." She kneeled down and untied the rabbit mask from where she'd secured it around the gryphon's leg. She lipped it over her face, feeling the familiar energy zip through her, and grabbed the staff before straightening up. Nura was already squatting down, fidgeting, eager to escape the battleground. Climbing on her back was unspeakably easier now that Artemis wasn't dealing with her skirts anymore.
"Save a house for me, yeah?" Artemis said to the Kith girl as she settled on top of Nura. The little girl had turned around to look at Artemis, her eyes growing comically wide at seeing the rabbit mask. Her mouth opened to say something, a hand raising to point at it –
But then Nura took off, and Artemis was in the sky.
Another step in.
As flippant and irreverent as Artemis was, she'd always been able to recognize when something was beyond her. Standing here, in this little temple, at the feet of something divine, Artemis felt small. She was small. She felt pulled in a gravity she couldn't fight. Screams and gunshots reverberated through the city behind her, crashes of lightning ripping apart the air. And here she stood, almost afraid to breathe lest she dishonor some holy being.
In some distant, closed off portion of her mind came the dawning realization that Artemis was in far over her head.
The scrabbling on the rooftop snapped her back to attention, her heart skipping to her throat. Artemis brought a hand to her chest at hearing Nura's chirps and closed her eyes. Damn bird had almost given her a heart attack. How'd she even get here? Hadn't Artemis left Nura in an orchard? Well, she knew that Nura wasn't exactly the most obedient creature – what with how easily Artemis had stolen her. She supposed she should just be thankful that now she didn't have to go any farther to reach Nura. Because no matter what the kid said, Artemis was getting out of here.
But first…
Artemis walked towards the Lady of Light, looking down to see the three elemental platforms. The skin of her left palm tingled the closer she came. It wasn't difficult to guess what Oseely's rune was reacting to – the way the green platform pulsed, bright and alive, while the other two lay dormant was enough of a clue. The handprints only served to drive it home. But the question was... what would happen when all three platforms were alight?
Bright blue eyes flicked back up to look at the Lady of Light – at least, that was who Artemis assumed this was. But who else could she be, with the way the sun seemed to shine in her smile. Actually, she reminded Artemis of her mother; all patience and warmth, but a tired sort of sadness that spoke of old scars and poor decisions.
Maybe the likeness to her mother was why Artemis already felt like a disappointment, she thought sardonically.
She gave a small shake of the head and pushed forward again, slow steps to the foot of the Lady. Her hand itched and stung with each step, the fire dancing above the pedestal. Artemis wondered what would happen if she answered the fire's call and placed her hand down on the pedestal. Likely nothing. Maybe something. Her eyes flicked back up to the Lady – the statue.
Well, there was one way to find out.
Artemis stretched out her hand to touch her palm to the stone. It wasn't a perfect match – the print embedded in the pedestal was comically large and intended for a right hand, and Oseely's rune was on her left. But the stone reacted all the same, emitting a warm, pulsing light. Artemis pulled her hand away and stepped back, holding her breath.
Nothing.
She looked back up at the statue once more.
"Sorry," she whispered with a halfhearted shrug. Her voice, though soft, seemed to cut through the tranquility of the temple, like she was breaking some reverent spell. "I tried."
It was then that a ticking from the back of the temple caught her attention.
"Why is it always ticking," Artemis muttered to herself, immediately tense. The last time she'd heard that sound, she'd woken up in a demonic night forest and had been dropped into a river in front of a giant wolf.
Artemis stood frozen as she listened to the sharp metallic, clicks count the temple's time. The sounds of battle were steadily growing louder outside as the fighting crawled further into the town. She took a moment to steel herself before creeping around the statue, her footfalls the only quiet thing in the town, it seemed.
When it got too dark to see without the light of the moon, Artemis raised her left hand to glare at Oseely's rune.
Fire.
A tiny ember sparked into existence.
"Ha!" Artemis' delight was cut short when the flame flickered out again. The next half a minute was dedicated to creating a small flame above her palm and not have it immediately die. When she was finally successful, Artemis continued on into the back of the temple, still on guard, but now the tiniest bit smug at her candlelight.
She found herself in a ticking room, filled with still metal and cogs. The machinery seemed to tangle inside itself, twisting and bending into hulking shapes. It was a clutter of devices Artemis couldn't imagine the uses for. The ticking was coming from a bronze clock, the only thing still alive in here, it seemed. But it wasn't like any clock Artemis had ever seen. Its many hands were engraved with elemental symbols and an array of plants and animals were drawn about the face. Artemis raised her little light closer to it, tilting her head. Pulling back, she looked down to see a glass cylinder with an open door. A dark, dull stone rested there, reminding Artemis of the glowing one she stole. She reached forward to grab it and looked at it in her palm.
An explosion cracked through the air, shaking the ground. Artemis jumped, her fire extinguishing.
After a few frantic moments of cursing, her light was back. The fighting was definitely getting closer. Artemis dropped the stone in her pocket without a second thought and took a step backwards only for her heel to hit something cold and hard on the ground. She jumped again (but was satisfied when her fire only flickered instead of going out this time) and spun around to see… nothing. At least, nothing living. Artemis sighed, her heart still hammering in her chest.
She looked down to see something glinting in the firelight on the ground. Artemis carefully put the front of her foot over it and curled her toes around something cold and metal. Grabbing the round lump, she raised her knee and turned her leg so she could transfer her grip on the object from her toes to her fingers.
Artemis lowered her foot again as she looked at the… pocket watch? Locket? It was fairly plain save for the scratches and dirt, and smaller than her palm with a long chain attached to the top. She pressed the top button, expecting the cover to open up, only to find it was jammed down and unmoving. Artemis' eyebrows pulled together slightly.
There was another explosion, not as close as the last one, but still loud enough for Artemis to feel the reverberations in her feet. It was time to go.
Hurrying back towards the entrance, Artemis dropped her fire when it was light enough to see again. She gave the Lady of Light one last look before exiting the temple, the two glowing platforms behind her.
Nura squawked as soon as she saw someone exit the temple and jumped down to land heavily on the ground before Artemis. She dropped the Witch's staff at Artemis' feet and shoved her beak in Artemis' face, snuffling and sniffling.
"Yeah, yeah, hey it's me," she said, trying to shove Nura's face away. When Nura finally pulled back, Artemis gave her a quick rub above the beak. "Let's get out of here." She kneeled down and untied the rabbit mask from where she'd secured it around the gryphon's leg. She lipped it over her face, feeling the familiar energy zip through her, and grabbed the staff before straightening up. Nura was already squatting down, fidgeting, eager to escape the battleground. Climbing on her back was unspeakably easier now that Artemis wasn't dealing with her skirts anymore.
"Save a house for me, yeah?" Artemis said to the Kith girl as she settled on top of Nura. The little girl had turned around to look at Artemis, her eyes growing comically wide at seeing the rabbit mask. Her mouth opened to say something, a hand raising to point at it –
But then Nura took off, and Artemis was in the sky.
hnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggg whyyyyy is writing so haaaarrrrrrrrrddddd hnnnnnnnng write write write brain stop rolling around and work properly for onceeeeeee
Ok I'm gonna see if I can get a post up tonight. If not, then hopefully tomorrow.
Lexa blinked at Jack when he said he was keeping his no-killing promise, even when it came to Shirley. That was… mildly impressive. Which really said wonders when Lexa was impressed that Jack wasn't planning homicide. She froze though, when he said he wanted to stay with her. Stunned amber eyes watched Jack as he fussed and fidgeted where he sat. He… what? How was she even supposed to react to them?
"Uhm… yeah?" Lexa wanted to run herself through with her sword for responding in the stupidest possible way. Her face was starting to heat. She tore her eyes away from him to look down at the ground. Shit, she was too sleep deprived to deal with this.
If she forced her spinning head to get its damn act together, it wasn't the most terrible idea. The smartest move would likely be for her to skip town, find somewhere new to hide and set up shop. It meant starting over, but… well, Lexa didn't have all that much to lose here. She'd miss her job, and Ty… But now that he knew about her, the farther she was from him, the better. She couldn't stand the idea of him getting wrapped up in this because of her own idiocy. He didn't deserve that.
At least she could bring her dog with her.
As for sticking with Jack… Lexa's eyes flicked up to him before quickly darting away again. Dangerous. Dangerous and volatile. Not homicidal though, for however long that lasted. But if he could be trusted, then he was a good person to have at her back. And…
Lexa had already lost her family once. While Jack wasn't anywhere close to that, she didn't know how willing she was to lose this possible connection to her past. Even if she didn't want to believe it.
"If we do this," she finally spoke again in a gruff voice, hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth, "I'm not babysitting you. I don't wanna turn around and find out you dropped a building or something." Promising to not murder was a good first step, but there was a whole slew of other crimes on his rap sheet.
This was a terrible idea. She was going to regret this.
But Lexa couldn't find it in herself to pull the words back.
"Uhm… yeah?" Lexa wanted to run herself through with her sword for responding in the stupidest possible way. Her face was starting to heat. She tore her eyes away from him to look down at the ground. Shit, she was too sleep deprived to deal with this.
If she forced her spinning head to get its damn act together, it wasn't the most terrible idea. The smartest move would likely be for her to skip town, find somewhere new to hide and set up shop. It meant starting over, but… well, Lexa didn't have all that much to lose here. She'd miss her job, and Ty… But now that he knew about her, the farther she was from him, the better. She couldn't stand the idea of him getting wrapped up in this because of her own idiocy. He didn't deserve that.
At least she could bring her dog with her.
As for sticking with Jack… Lexa's eyes flicked up to him before quickly darting away again. Dangerous. Dangerous and volatile. Not homicidal though, for however long that lasted. But if he could be trusted, then he was a good person to have at her back. And…
Lexa had already lost her family once. While Jack wasn't anywhere close to that, she didn't know how willing she was to lose this possible connection to her past. Even if she didn't want to believe it.
"If we do this," she finally spoke again in a gruff voice, hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth, "I'm not babysitting you. I don't wanna turn around and find out you dropped a building or something." Promising to not murder was a good first step, but there was a whole slew of other crimes on his rap sheet.
This was a terrible idea. She was going to regret this.
But Lexa couldn't find it in herself to pull the words back.
WIP
Collab with @Silent Observer
Tuesday, May 23rd
Location: Blaine County desert → Bolingbroke Penitentiary → The Lake
Characters: Judah & Camille
Judah squinted his eyes to block out the blazing sun that was beating down on them as Julian gave a final debriefing. It was hotter than the devil’s ballsack out here, but that didn’t matter - that couldn’t matter - because it was go time. The young man would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t nervous. He was most definitely nervous. The girl beside him looked still and focused, dark eyes flitting around, taking in the details of their surroundings and companions.
Never in his wildest dreams had Judah ever thought that he would be flying a plane. Yes, he had certainly dreamed of one day being wealthy enough to own a private jet, but to fly one? No, not quite. Surely, with that much money, he could simply pay someone else to fly him around. Yet, somehow his life had brought him here, to this moment, where his uncle had introduced him to a criminal world that he was previously unaware of.
Technically, if Judah got Camille and himself killed on this mission, these deaths would be one hundred percent on Jorge. Could the old man even handle that on his conscience? Judah couldn’t be too sure, he had thought that he knew his uncle pretty well, but his eyes were recently opened to a whole new world, now that he had joined The Syndicate himself. His uncle was a stranger to him and, hell, if he looked in the mirror too long, his own reflection was starting to look like a stranger as well.
Julian stepped close to Judah and Camille now, giving them their direct marching orders. The man was intimidating as all get out, but Judah and his fellow Pawn stood tall (relatively, in Camille’s case) and nodded at all the appropriate moments. Of course, Judah had already been told the plan by his buddy Ryan. What R had failed to mention was the very important ending to said plan. The relatively tan male’s face paled as he turned to Camille.
“Did he just say… dive it into the lake?” he asked for her confirmation, completely thunderstruck.
“Yes, I believe those were the words he used,” she responded in a calm voice. Camille was putting an unreasonable amount of effort into that ‘calm’. Unreasonable, like how asking two people to crash land into a lake while jumping out of a plane was unreasonable. It figured her first job with The Syndicate would be the one to get her killed.
She was still facing straight ahead when her eyes flicked up to his. He looked as panicked as she felt.
“I take it you haven’t done this before, then.” Wonderful. Two people in a plane with no clue what they’d gotten into.
“Voluntarily crashed a plane into a lake? No, can’t say that I have… you?” Judah replied snarkily and started walking towards the aircraft. They were on a time crunch, every second counted, and he wasn’t about to waste precious moments spreading seeds of doubt. He had also never successfully flown, nor landed, a plane in real life before, but she didn’t need to know that, what good would it do for morale?
Camille followed after him, trotting a bit to keep up with his damn long strides. The urge to bite back rose in her throat, the want to snap and cut.
“No, not yet,” she said instead. Calm. She needed to keep herself calm before she flung herself out of an airplane. She could freak out after she hit the water. “Have you at least flown a plane before?” Calm seemed to be failing her, as an edge leaked into her voice. The plane began to loom above them as they approached, casting an ominous shadow.
Judah felt his muscles go a little rigid as she asked the inevitable question. Obviously she wanted to know that, he probably would too, if he was in her place. Did that mean that he was going to answer her? Absolutely not. Instead, Judah opened the door to the cockpit and hoisted himself into the pilot’s seat. He needed a minute, more like a few milliseconds, to familiarize himself the controls before he actually attempted to get this fucking thing in the air. Such familiarization would happen best without the broad squawking at him.
That her question had been completely ignored did not go unnoticed by Camille. Which meant that the answer was no. After half a moment of hesitation, she forced herself into the plane after Judah. Who was this again? The friend of Helmsley’s son? The strip club worker? He was someone expendable, if they were sending him on a plane that he didn’t know how to pilot, to crash into a lake. And she was with him. Which meant that she was expendable too.
Camille huffed to herself as she took a moment to close her eyes and run her hands through her hair. She knew she didn’t matter to them. Not yet. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she counted to three in her mind. Then her eyes opened and she was calm again. They’d do this, they’d survive, they’d get away.
Glancing over at her companion once more (he seemed to be looking at the various gauges and gears like he was piecing together a sentence in a language he’d dropped out of in high school) she turned to try and figure out how to close the plane door.
The young man let out a long exhale as his eyes scanned the various controls. Yup, this was officially nothing like a flight simulator. His stomach felt knotted with nerves and nausea. He urged himself to just focus… there were the recognizable basics present, after all; The yoke in front of him - which was like a steering wheel, the throttle to the right of his legs - which controlled thrust, the six pack of flight instruments in the dash - which showed altitude and speed and the like, the landing gear controls - which they apparently wouldn’t be using all that much today, and finally the rudder pedals beneath his feet - which controlled, you guessed it, the rudders.
Judah heard the door shut and looked back to see that Camille was officially in the plane. She walked over and sat down in the copilot’s seat, eyes looking over the dashboard. Judah might’ve dropped this language, but it was one she’d never studied at all. Back straight, she looked out the window instead and began braiding her hair.
Was she seriously braiding her fucking hair right now? Honestly, Judah would never ever understand women, he wasn’t sure that he even wanted to. He had to give her credit though for being cool as a cucumber, while he was sitting in the cockpit trying not to vomit on the dash. At least she was pretty, that had to count for something. And she wasn’t freaking out and making things worse. Double plus.
“Try not to kill us.” Minus.
Turning his attention back to the controls, Judah powered on the engine. The whole plane roared to life noisily and Judah set his lips in a thin, straight line. Trying hard not to sound like a total dick, for whatever reason, he said: “I’ve got a lot of living left to do, I’m not dying today.” He then pressed the button in his earpiece to radio down to Ryan and the Ground Team. Camille refrained from responding as she tied off the end of her braid with a hairband.
“Ready for take-off,” he said rather cheesily, not bothering to wait for the response before pushing in the fuel mixture knob completely. Judah advanced the throttle and the engine’s RPMs picked up. Camille’s hands snapped to the armrests on either side of her, gripping them tightly as the plane roared. Not only was the engine much louder now, but the plane automatically started moving once thrust was generated. Shit, shit, shit. It wasn’t going straight, the whole plane was veering left. Judah’s brain whirled on how to counteract that… RUDDERS! Pressing the pedal gently, he managed to center the aircraft, then proceeded to grip the yoke for dear life. Beside him, Camille had squeezed her eyes shut, her lips pressed tightly together. In one heartstopping instant, it’d finally sunken into her that: her life was in this person’s hands.
The plane steadily crept along the makeshift runway. It had to build up speed before they had any hopes of getting this bird up in the sky. Judah pushed the throttle forward and watched the flight instruments intently as the knots climbed. The airspeed indicator turned a pleasant green once an adequate speed was reached and, at the same time, the nose of the plane started to lift up. That was the signal, Judah pulled back steadily on the yoke and up they went. Smooth sailing, mostly.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, not bothering to hold back anything anymore. One of Camille’s eyes cracked open. Judah’s stomach was still dancing, but less with nerves, and more with excitement now. He let out a hooting laugh. Another light flashed above the landing gear controls, indicating that Judah should bring up the landing gear, which he promptly did. If flying was anything like the simulators, the hardest part was done and over, besides landing… Which they weren’t doing today.
Camille’s eyes had both finally opened and she slowly began coercing her muscles to relax in her seat. Her hands were still painfully tight around the armrests.
“Congratulations,” she forced out. Her voice was less controlled now, more breathless and strained.
“Thanks, babe,” he said with a smirk, not bothering to tear his eyes away from his task to see her reaction. When this was over, and they weren’t dead - which they wouldn’t be - he was definitely going to steal a kiss. He had earned it. She finally looked at the ‘pilot’.
“You’ve had your first successful take-off. Please never fly again.” Judah frowned at that.
“Bitch, are we dead?” he snipped, his pride obviously a little wounded.
“Give it time, you’re still in the pilot’s seat,” she snapped back, a hard edge to her voice.
“Get back there and get ready to pull your damn lever.” Judah directed to her. Why was she still in her seat anyway? Camille bristled at the command, her spine straightening. She leveled her eyes in a glare at him for a long moment before standing up and walking to the back of the plane.
Very carefully removing one of his hands from the yoke, Judah pressed the button in his earpiece once again.
“Headed for the drop point, on target. Are you ready with the signal?” If he listened carefully, he could hear a scoff coming from somewhere behind him at his attempt at using tactical language.
“Ground Team to Air Jew, we are standing by for drop.” Ryan’s voice chirped into the receiver. Judah nodded at Ryan’s confirmation, which was a little bit stupid, because Ryan couldn’t see him doing so. Force of habit, he guessed, but then he realized what R had just said.
“The fuck did you just call me? I’m not even that Je--” Judah started defend himself and then scoffed. “Whatever… Incoming, Land Gentile,” he quipped and then got Camille’s attention by waving his hand.
“Okay, I’ll let you know when I see the flare. When I say ‘GO’, drop the load. Got it, Cami?” Judah smirked once again, proud of himself for the nickname that would likely irk his already irritated companion. Two zingers in a row, not bad for a man who was also flying a plane.
“Got it, Judy,” she called back. Judah’s eyes bugged and he actually turned to look at her this time. She seemed very focused on the lever in front of her. Cute, real cute. Shaking his head, Judah turned his eyes back to the windshield and looked down at the prison grounds below. The red light of the flare was visible in the near distance. Judah leaned forward, as if that would help him to see better, when they were exactly above it.
“Annddd…… GO!” Camille yanked on the lever.
“Atta girl!” Judah cheered jovially, and he was actually genuine about it. Camille glanced at him, the beginnings of a smile finding her as Judah’s excitement finally infected her. They had gotten the job done, at least the part that The Syndicate cared about. Now all they had to focus on was not being shot out of the sky… and diving the plane into the lake. No biggie, right?
“So… I hope you can swim,” he said matter-of-factly. Thankfully, he was a strong swimmer, not that he was particularly keen on testing that fact in such a manner.
“About as well as you can fly,” she muttered to herself, her smile dropping. Apparently his flying ability was ‘barely good enough to get the job done,’ so hopefully her swimming would be good enough, too.
“Oh, damn, didn’t know I was flying with an olympic gold medalist,” he joked. Joking was really helping to take his mind off of the fact that they were currently flying over the vast lake that they would soon be crash landing in. Well, it was kind of helping, as much as anything could help in this situation. Camille rolled her eyes, but silently, she was thankful for something to react to, other than the idea that they were about to jump out of a plane. Exhaling a steadying breath once again, Judah pushed the yoke forward, slowly tipping the nose of the plane towards the water’s surface.
It turns out that it is just that easy to start your aircraft on a crash course. Caught in the downward air currents, the plane careened down towards the lake at unnerving speeds. Camille started slowly, carefully making her way towards the door, trying to accommodate the new angle. Judah made a terrified, and slightly effeminate, yelping noise as he scrambled back into his seat.
“R, if I die right now. You tell your sister that I hate her guts, but she’s a damn good lay, and I’ll miss that,” he said quickly into the earpiece. Judah looked over at Camille and nodded. This was it, this pair of lovely brown eyes could be the last pair that he ever looked into.
“You’re a poet.” Camille couldn’t believe that this idiot was the last person that she’d ever talk to. Judah cracked a smile.
“See you down there, gorgeous,” he replied before turned to the cockpit door. He opened the emergency latch, setting off a cacophonous array of sirens as the pressure in the cabin went to shit. Camille was satisfied (while still terrified) when her hair stayed in its neat braid instead of going flying around her face and in her eyes. Forcing the door out with his shoulder, Judah cleared the path and jumped out of the opening towards the hungry waters below.
Camille was frozen where she stood as she watched him launch himself out of the plane. In a matter of seconds he hit the water. Two seconds. That’s all it was. Maybe a little longer. Certainly not three. Certainly not as long as she’d been standing here, trying to force herself out.
Pressing her eyes shut, she let out a deep, shaky breath. Two seconds. Finally regaining control of her muscles, Camille took three shaky steps back. Then she ran forward and jumped.
Never in his wildest dreams had Judah ever thought that he would be flying a plane. Yes, he had certainly dreamed of one day being wealthy enough to own a private jet, but to fly one? No, not quite. Surely, with that much money, he could simply pay someone else to fly him around. Yet, somehow his life had brought him here, to this moment, where his uncle had introduced him to a criminal world that he was previously unaware of.
Technically, if Judah got Camille and himself killed on this mission, these deaths would be one hundred percent on Jorge. Could the old man even handle that on his conscience? Judah couldn’t be too sure, he had thought that he knew his uncle pretty well, but his eyes were recently opened to a whole new world, now that he had joined The Syndicate himself. His uncle was a stranger to him and, hell, if he looked in the mirror too long, his own reflection was starting to look like a stranger as well.
Julian stepped close to Judah and Camille now, giving them their direct marching orders. The man was intimidating as all get out, but Judah and his fellow Pawn stood tall (relatively, in Camille’s case) and nodded at all the appropriate moments. Of course, Judah had already been told the plan by his buddy Ryan. What R had failed to mention was the very important ending to said plan. The relatively tan male’s face paled as he turned to Camille.
“Did he just say… dive it into the lake?” he asked for her confirmation, completely thunderstruck.
“Yes, I believe those were the words he used,” she responded in a calm voice. Camille was putting an unreasonable amount of effort into that ‘calm’. Unreasonable, like how asking two people to crash land into a lake while jumping out of a plane was unreasonable. It figured her first job with The Syndicate would be the one to get her killed.
She was still facing straight ahead when her eyes flicked up to his. He looked as panicked as she felt.
“I take it you haven’t done this before, then.” Wonderful. Two people in a plane with no clue what they’d gotten into.
“Voluntarily crashed a plane into a lake? No, can’t say that I have… you?” Judah replied snarkily and started walking towards the aircraft. They were on a time crunch, every second counted, and he wasn’t about to waste precious moments spreading seeds of doubt. He had also never successfully flown, nor landed, a plane in real life before, but she didn’t need to know that, what good would it do for morale?
Camille followed after him, trotting a bit to keep up with his damn long strides. The urge to bite back rose in her throat, the want to snap and cut.
“No, not yet,” she said instead. Calm. She needed to keep herself calm before she flung herself out of an airplane. She could freak out after she hit the water. “Have you at least flown a plane before?” Calm seemed to be failing her, as an edge leaked into her voice. The plane began to loom above them as they approached, casting an ominous shadow.
Judah felt his muscles go a little rigid as she asked the inevitable question. Obviously she wanted to know that, he probably would too, if he was in her place. Did that mean that he was going to answer her? Absolutely not. Instead, Judah opened the door to the cockpit and hoisted himself into the pilot’s seat. He needed a minute, more like a few milliseconds, to familiarize himself the controls before he actually attempted to get this fucking thing in the air. Such familiarization would happen best without the broad squawking at him.
That her question had been completely ignored did not go unnoticed by Camille. Which meant that the answer was no. After half a moment of hesitation, she forced herself into the plane after Judah. Who was this again? The friend of Helmsley’s son? The strip club worker? He was someone expendable, if they were sending him on a plane that he didn’t know how to pilot, to crash into a lake. And she was with him. Which meant that she was expendable too.
Camille huffed to herself as she took a moment to close her eyes and run her hands through her hair. She knew she didn’t matter to them. Not yet. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she counted to three in her mind. Then her eyes opened and she was calm again. They’d do this, they’d survive, they’d get away.
Glancing over at her companion once more (he seemed to be looking at the various gauges and gears like he was piecing together a sentence in a language he’d dropped out of in high school) she turned to try and figure out how to close the plane door.
The young man let out a long exhale as his eyes scanned the various controls. Yup, this was officially nothing like a flight simulator. His stomach felt knotted with nerves and nausea. He urged himself to just focus… there were the recognizable basics present, after all; The yoke in front of him - which was like a steering wheel, the throttle to the right of his legs - which controlled thrust, the six pack of flight instruments in the dash - which showed altitude and speed and the like, the landing gear controls - which they apparently wouldn’t be using all that much today, and finally the rudder pedals beneath his feet - which controlled, you guessed it, the rudders.
Judah heard the door shut and looked back to see that Camille was officially in the plane. She walked over and sat down in the copilot’s seat, eyes looking over the dashboard. Judah might’ve dropped this language, but it was one she’d never studied at all. Back straight, she looked out the window instead and began braiding her hair.
Was she seriously braiding her fucking hair right now? Honestly, Judah would never ever understand women, he wasn’t sure that he even wanted to. He had to give her credit though for being cool as a cucumber, while he was sitting in the cockpit trying not to vomit on the dash. At least she was pretty, that had to count for something. And she wasn’t freaking out and making things worse. Double plus.
“Try not to kill us.” Minus.
Turning his attention back to the controls, Judah powered on the engine. The whole plane roared to life noisily and Judah set his lips in a thin, straight line. Trying hard not to sound like a total dick, for whatever reason, he said: “I’ve got a lot of living left to do, I’m not dying today.” He then pressed the button in his earpiece to radio down to Ryan and the Ground Team. Camille refrained from responding as she tied off the end of her braid with a hairband.
“Ready for take-off,” he said rather cheesily, not bothering to wait for the response before pushing in the fuel mixture knob completely. Judah advanced the throttle and the engine’s RPMs picked up. Camille’s hands snapped to the armrests on either side of her, gripping them tightly as the plane roared. Not only was the engine much louder now, but the plane automatically started moving once thrust was generated. Shit, shit, shit. It wasn’t going straight, the whole plane was veering left. Judah’s brain whirled on how to counteract that… RUDDERS! Pressing the pedal gently, he managed to center the aircraft, then proceeded to grip the yoke for dear life. Beside him, Camille had squeezed her eyes shut, her lips pressed tightly together. In one heartstopping instant, it’d finally sunken into her that: her life was in this person’s hands.
The plane steadily crept along the makeshift runway. It had to build up speed before they had any hopes of getting this bird up in the sky. Judah pushed the throttle forward and watched the flight instruments intently as the knots climbed. The airspeed indicator turned a pleasant green once an adequate speed was reached and, at the same time, the nose of the plane started to lift up. That was the signal, Judah pulled back steadily on the yoke and up they went. Smooth sailing, mostly.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, not bothering to hold back anything anymore. One of Camille’s eyes cracked open. Judah’s stomach was still dancing, but less with nerves, and more with excitement now. He let out a hooting laugh. Another light flashed above the landing gear controls, indicating that Judah should bring up the landing gear, which he promptly did. If flying was anything like the simulators, the hardest part was done and over, besides landing… Which they weren’t doing today.
Camille’s eyes had both finally opened and she slowly began coercing her muscles to relax in her seat. Her hands were still painfully tight around the armrests.
“Congratulations,” she forced out. Her voice was less controlled now, more breathless and strained.
“Thanks, babe,” he said with a smirk, not bothering to tear his eyes away from his task to see her reaction. When this was over, and they weren’t dead - which they wouldn’t be - he was definitely going to steal a kiss. He had earned it. She finally looked at the ‘pilot’.
“You’ve had your first successful take-off. Please never fly again.” Judah frowned at that.
“Bitch, are we dead?” he snipped, his pride obviously a little wounded.
“Give it time, you’re still in the pilot’s seat,” she snapped back, a hard edge to her voice.
“Get back there and get ready to pull your damn lever.” Judah directed to her. Why was she still in her seat anyway? Camille bristled at the command, her spine straightening. She leveled her eyes in a glare at him for a long moment before standing up and walking to the back of the plane.
Very carefully removing one of his hands from the yoke, Judah pressed the button in his earpiece once again.
“Headed for the drop point, on target. Are you ready with the signal?” If he listened carefully, he could hear a scoff coming from somewhere behind him at his attempt at using tactical language.
“Ground Team to Air Jew, we are standing by for drop.” Ryan’s voice chirped into the receiver. Judah nodded at Ryan’s confirmation, which was a little bit stupid, because Ryan couldn’t see him doing so. Force of habit, he guessed, but then he realized what R had just said.
“The fuck did you just call me? I’m not even that Je--” Judah started defend himself and then scoffed. “Whatever… Incoming, Land Gentile,” he quipped and then got Camille’s attention by waving his hand.
“Okay, I’ll let you know when I see the flare. When I say ‘GO’, drop the load. Got it, Cami?” Judah smirked once again, proud of himself for the nickname that would likely irk his already irritated companion. Two zingers in a row, not bad for a man who was also flying a plane.
“Got it, Judy,” she called back. Judah’s eyes bugged and he actually turned to look at her this time. She seemed very focused on the lever in front of her. Cute, real cute. Shaking his head, Judah turned his eyes back to the windshield and looked down at the prison grounds below. The red light of the flare was visible in the near distance. Judah leaned forward, as if that would help him to see better, when they were exactly above it.
“Annddd…… GO!” Camille yanked on the lever.
“Atta girl!” Judah cheered jovially, and he was actually genuine about it. Camille glanced at him, the beginnings of a smile finding her as Judah’s excitement finally infected her. They had gotten the job done, at least the part that The Syndicate cared about. Now all they had to focus on was not being shot out of the sky… and diving the plane into the lake. No biggie, right?
“So… I hope you can swim,” he said matter-of-factly. Thankfully, he was a strong swimmer, not that he was particularly keen on testing that fact in such a manner.
“About as well as you can fly,” she muttered to herself, her smile dropping. Apparently his flying ability was ‘barely good enough to get the job done,’ so hopefully her swimming would be good enough, too.
“Oh, damn, didn’t know I was flying with an olympic gold medalist,” he joked. Joking was really helping to take his mind off of the fact that they were currently flying over the vast lake that they would soon be crash landing in. Well, it was kind of helping, as much as anything could help in this situation. Camille rolled her eyes, but silently, she was thankful for something to react to, other than the idea that they were about to jump out of a plane. Exhaling a steadying breath once again, Judah pushed the yoke forward, slowly tipping the nose of the plane towards the water’s surface.
It turns out that it is just that easy to start your aircraft on a crash course. Caught in the downward air currents, the plane careened down towards the lake at unnerving speeds. Camille started slowly, carefully making her way towards the door, trying to accommodate the new angle. Judah made a terrified, and slightly effeminate, yelping noise as he scrambled back into his seat.
“R, if I die right now. You tell your sister that I hate her guts, but she’s a damn good lay, and I’ll miss that,” he said quickly into the earpiece. Judah looked over at Camille and nodded. This was it, this pair of lovely brown eyes could be the last pair that he ever looked into.
“You’re a poet.” Camille couldn’t believe that this idiot was the last person that she’d ever talk to. Judah cracked a smile.
“See you down there, gorgeous,” he replied before turned to the cockpit door. He opened the emergency latch, setting off a cacophonous array of sirens as the pressure in the cabin went to shit. Camille was satisfied (while still terrified) when her hair stayed in its neat braid instead of going flying around her face and in her eyes. Forcing the door out with his shoulder, Judah cleared the path and jumped out of the opening towards the hungry waters below.
Camille was frozen where she stood as she watched him launch himself out of the plane. In a matter of seconds he hit the water. Two seconds. That’s all it was. Maybe a little longer. Certainly not three. Certainly not as long as she’d been standing here, trying to force herself out.
Pressing her eyes shut, she let out a deep, shaky breath. Two seconds. Finally regaining control of her muscles, Camille took three shaky steps back. Then she ran forward and jumped.
@Mokley well, the thing about finding a thing she wants or needs… i don't know? >.< i'm terribly uncreative when it comes to things like that lmao. i was making a list to myself of what she's pilfered so far in the town and she's got less cumbersome/dirty/identifiable clothes, a glowy rock, food stuffs, a knife, and whatever various odds and ends she managed to snatch in the kitchen (probably nothing fancy… some containers maybe, a pencil (because she can't just keep drawing things with soot and smashed fruit)) and overall excluding the glowy rock it's all pretty mundane. which isn't something i'm complaining about (i'm the one who did that to her lol).
but i'm game for her finding something ~~special~~ in the temple (i go to a japanese-style buddhist temple once a year so i at least have experience to draw from for the design lol (why am i abusing parenthesis so much)). i just… need ideas as to what it could be >.<
i'm more of a reactionary person when i write lol. you give me a situation, yeah i can write cool ways out of it. you make me come up with shit on my own? hell naw. alas, tis my downfall as an rp'er.
this was a long-winded ramble asking for ideas please
but i'm game for her finding something ~~special~~ in the temple (i go to a japanese-style buddhist temple once a year so i at least have experience to draw from for the design lol (why am i abusing parenthesis so much)). i just… need ideas as to what it could be >.<
i'm more of a reactionary person when i write lol. you give me a situation, yeah i can write cool ways out of it. you make me come up with shit on my own? hell naw. alas, tis my downfall as an rp'er.
this was a long-winded ramble asking for ideas please
@Mokley ok so i wanna have arty go in and investigate the big statue but i feel like that post by itself would be hecka short. so what should she expect when she goes in so i can write it and continue the post?
(if that's ok)
(if that's ok)
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