Log: Falling Towards The Sky

[spectre_de_la_mort]

Who: Agent Louisiana, Sigma Ai, and Oquirrh
What: Ever wonder what the city looks like from above?
Where: Louisiana's safe house, Control vehicle bay/air space over Gulch
When: 6/25 Thursday
Warnings: Mild cursing, shenanigans involving two dorks in an aircraft with no doors, Sigma cooking


Louisiana slips out of the pillow fort and stretches out her arms. She hadn't expected to do that with Sigma so soon and especially because he didn't want to go home. However it beat him sleeping at the hospital. This guaranteed good sleep for him. Her not so much. She had waited for him to pass out in order to call Omega before getting her own rest.

She heads into the kitchen and makes two cups of coffee. Bringing them back to the fort, she gently nudges Sigma awake. They had a pretty exciting plan for the day. So it'd be best to make sure he started off in a good mood.

"Hey rise and shine, Rooks. We got a date with a Falcon today."

Comments

[ambitious_muse]

Sigma wakes to the smell of coffee. He's far too accustomed to sleeping in late, now that he spends so much time away from home; while he isn't sure he needs the caffeine to wake him up, he certainly won't say no to a cup.

"Thanks," he says. He takes the mug, drinks from it, and puts it on the floor so he can stretch. "That definitely beats sleeping at the hospital."

Though maybe he should have called his sister first. In hindsight, that would have been the better choice. Too late.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"De rien," she responds in turn. Louisiana settles down next to him and sips at her own coffee. It had ample time to cool so it was merely warm. "Told you it does. Besides I'm never against building another fort. Feeling any better though?"

[ambitious_muse]

"Much," he says. "I guess I just needed to sleep it off."

Sometimes he just needs space. It's one of the many reasons he's eager to have his own apartment.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"Sometimes that's for the best. Anyway I'm going to start work on breakfast. Just wanted to make sure you weren't comatose through it."

She finsihes off her drink and gets back up. The counter was soon cluttered with ingredients as well as whatever else she needed. Beignets sounded awesome right now. Maybe they'll boost Sigma's mood some more.

[ambitious_muse]

"Breakfast? Can I help?"

He's used to simple things like cereal or microwavable oatmeal, so the array on the counter is quite intimidating. Still, he wants to learn whatever it is she's making.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"I suppose you can." Louisiana moves over to start setting up the right amount of ingredients. She then hands them over along with a mixing bowl. "Mix these together for me. I'll set up the oil while you do that."

Moving over towards the stove, she starts focusing on her task. She was pretty certain Sigma wasn't going to start a fire. She had enough faith in him. That and a fire extinguisher under the sink if faith proved to be not enough.

[ambitious_muse]

"What are we making?" he asks, intrigued. She's so specific about everything. That's no surprise, of course. He's just impressed that she can do this without a recipe.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"Beignets. Or French doughnuts I suppose," she smiles softly. It had been a bit since she made them. Plus it was better if they were shared. "I guess I'm fulfilling that promise to show you how to make them."

[ambitious_muse]

"Really? Thanks!" So he's a little nervous about heating oil, given his bad luck with kitchens. But then, there's nobody else in the house who would distract him away from cooking. He might be okay.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"Really Rooks. It's no problem." She gets the stove set up properly. It wouldn't take too long to heat the oil so she's checks on the dough she was having him mix. "So far not bad at all."

[ambitious_muse]

"Mixing things isn't so difficult," he says. In fact, he hasn't even spilled on the counter. Not bad for early morning cooking.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

Louisiana sprinkles some flour out on the corner so the dough wouldn't stick to it. "Well that's true. Place it here and roll it out. We have to cut it into pieces before frying."

[ambitious_muse]

He can do that, too. He wipes some flour on his hands before picking up the dough and plopping it on the counter. Louisiana has already pulled out the rolling pin; he uses it to manage the dough as best as he can.

"How thick should I make these?" He asks.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

The shuttle stop is so quiet at this time of day. Oquirrh sits inside the booth, pretending to wait for a bus. She would rather not draw too much attention to herself, after all.

It's a little difficult, considering she's so excited she wants to start jumping up and down. She gets to fly a Falcon! It's not without risk, considering she'll be going into a Control-operated facility. But any concern about that is swallowed up in her excitement. She peers at the trackers in her helmet, pretending to read from her holopad when she's really watching for the Warthog.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

The drive is rather uneventful. Minus the scrabble to control the radio which she had reluctantly relinquished to Sigma. At least he had good choice in music so it wasn't all bad. Following the nab data, Louisiana heads for the streets that she had told Oquirrh. Hopefully she'd be able to recognize her if she had a new setup. Her IFF tag was no longer registered in either of her helmets.

[ambitious_muse]

Sigma has no idea who they're looking for or where they're headed. He's just along for the ride. The thought of riding a Falcon does have him a little nervous, to be sure. Surely he can trust Louisiana's pilot, though.

He feels even better when Louisiana pulls up to a shuttle stop and he recognizes the woman inside. Or, her helmet, at least. Oquirrh's distinctive new helmet is hard to miss.

"You're going to be our pilot?" he asks, surprised. He didn't think the two women officially worked together anymore.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

Oquirrh stands up when the Warthog approaches. Sigma is Louisiana's passenger? She supposes that makes sense.

"Hi," she says, waving to her friends. She doesn't want to make Sigma give up his seat, so she swings into the gunner's perch instead and sits with her back to him. "You two ready to fly?"

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"I'm more than ready to do it," Louisiana answers back. The warthog is moving once more but this time towards territory that had been staked out as Control's. It wasn't exactly know by the For Hires but everything had been reoriented after that night when they had attacked. "She's a trustworthy pilot. Especially where we're headed to get our wings from."

[ambitious_muse]

"Am I allowed to ask where we're going?" he asks. If it's mercenary business, he wonders why Oquirrh is here, and whether he should be going at all. It's too late to turn back, of course. He trusts Louisiana. But the pit of anxiety in his chest gapes just a little wider.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

"Just for a flyover of the city," Oquirrh says. "Nowhere in particular. Not unless you have any requests."

She hunkers down in the back and plays with her navigation software. It's the first time she will have used the aviation mode, so she's grateful to have time to fiddle with it now.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"A vehicle depot that belongs to my employer. There's nothing to really worry about," she replies, glancing at him. "Strictly recreational."

[ambitious_muse]

So mercenary territory, then, but on safe terms. "Just don't tell my sister?" he asks.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"I promise that I won't," she answers. "She'd kill me if I do."

[ambitious_muse]

"Yeah, I suspected as much," he says. "We'll just mutually agree not to say anything and everything will be fine."

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"Well I mean...you could talk about the flight. And probably me and Oquirrh being there. Just not where we got the Falcon from. We could probably say that we were able to rent one. That shouldn't be too hard to cover."