16746/Interlude: Sun, Sea and Sanity

Interlude: Sun, Sea and Sanity
Date of Scene:	03 June 2025
Location:	South Pacific -- Somewhere between Easter and Christmas
Synopsis:	MD3 is rescued from the Island. That is before it gets a thorough cleansing. The birds deserve peace after all.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Lucifer, Phantasm (Drago)

---

Sinister has posed:
Surveillance is boring.

NO. Really. It's super boring. A lot of sitting around, doing nothing much but keeping an eye on things and often in inconvenient ways.

So it's probably quite nice to do it in comfort from a sky platform that can be cloaked. Mister Sinister gifted X-force a 'blackbird' of their own, which they've done.... things with.

It wasn't his only one, you know. He just doesn't take his toys out for no good reason. But, here we are -- a floating penthouse cloaked from general scans that has more eyes than the CIA building.

Over water. With a Devil on speed dial. And popcorn. He's been here a few days. Or well, part of him has, observing, keeping track of the comings and the goings over the ocean down below - boat, ariel, sub-aquatic, power-surging. All that jazz. And brains, of course.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer is doing what Devils do best when they are on speed dial....

Cleaning.

Top to bottom, left to right, everything but Sinister's lab. Because even the Devil knows NOT to mess with Sinister's lab. Unless one is hunting for chocolate.

That special chocolate he keeps hidden in that middle right drawer...

There's music, there's a shimmy here and there. But mostly, there is the killing of dust bunnies and eradicating of cobwebs. Such things as this.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Be it from the imagery stripped from the sniper's mind or someone taking a moment to look at the island day the doctor had requested added to his sentence, it becomes apparent.

While the Island may have been an integral part of whatever flashing image mind fuckery there was, it was also a very real place. With very real visits.

Officially Ducie Island considered a nature preserve with no buildings upon the island and uninhabited save for an extensive bird population. With the high tides covering most of the land, one could understand why the island wouldn't have residents. And it is only on rare occasions that cruises come to anchor nearby, using a smaller ship to bring people people on and off.

Well. There are no buildings...technically. Or at least within view. But, upon observing a few stray persons occasionally wandering about the island, there does appear to be a type of storm shelter on the higher point of the island.

And, off to the lower point, there have been instances of those ducking into cave like formations... disappearing for awhile and emerging later, like they hadn't spent hours below high tide levels.

But mostly. It's nothing but birds.

Sinister has posed:
"So, pookie dearest, do you suppose that birds need human visitors other than the ones shaped like college research students in khaki shorts, timberlands and backpacks full of clipboards and binoculars? I've got a feeling that there's a subaquatic facility here, which is quite /well/ camouflaged. There's huge power drains... and I /know/ you're after my chocolate."

Words spoken, but they echo across the world to a mind elsewhere.

"There's quite a bit of activity here. I wonder how much fun you'd have with Hydra on Holiday, but... Nick's body buddy is here, someplace."

Popcorn, sprinkled with sugar and salt, enjoyed in silence, is now disposed of hygenically. Can't have crumbs on your console, after all.

"There's a suitable touch-down on the southern tip of the island at low tide. But being up with the birds is probably similarly safe. They've got boobies here." BOOBIES. Blue footed ones.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer glances up and around and then gives a playful pout. "What's the point of you going off elsewhere if you're just going to have eyes here on me. As if you don't trust me.." But he grins, and abandons his quest for Sinister's chocolate. He likely still has some stuff from Easter somewhere anyway.

"I could probably have a lot of fun with Hydra on Holiday if I was left to my own devices and didn't have to salvage anyone before, during, or after the affair. Still...sounds like things might be picking up a bit for you. Need someone to go diving below while you keep watch above?"

Cause Lucifer is totally discreet and stuff.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As low-tide is reached, another period of emergence is upon the observational pair. A lone figure emerges, slowly. Pausing near the entrance of the cave, a relatively trim man, looking to be in his early 30s glances about.

Content with the findings. The familiar looking face steps out into the sunlight, tugging off his shirt to take full advantage of the bright sun above. A hand reaches back, tucking the shirt into a back pocket.

It's likely something doctors would frown upon. Increasing the risk of sunburn but hey- When living on a sub for most of your life, you take the sun how you can get it.

Sinister has posed:
"Well, I call it making sure that I can keep a weather eye on everything else." Sinister replies, bringing up the image on his screen with a mere thought. He studies what he sees, magnifying it to a high degree without moving a finger or touching a single button.

"Well, well," the image of course is shared. "The mouse is out of his hole. Do you want to have a little chit-chat? I will keep eyes in the sky doing what I do best..."

Popcorn needs to be washed down with tea.

He has a tea maker in his sky-eye, you know. For perfect earl grey.

Lucifer has posed:
Sinister knows that all Lucifer needs to really do is see a place and he can go there. It's easier if he's been there already - and technically he has - so that's a bit better. "I don't even know what the hell to call him aside from....what...Mock Drago?" He says this but then he sets down his cleaning supplies, grabs a sack lunch and with a one-two step he is no longer in the Penthouse.

He is on the beach a few several feet behind MD3. Close enough to see, far enough away to likely have not drawn attention for being a sudden presence.

Then he begins walking forward. Towards the clone. If this is a clone of the same DNA that made Nick, does this mean the clone is technically related to him also? In some weird, pseudo-sciencey way?

Freaky.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Despite Lucifer appearing behind the clone upon the beach there's no immediate reaction to the appearance.

For one, the clone's back is to the man, and while his blood may have some unique traits to it, eyes in the back of the head isn't one of them.

Secondly the sand does provide a bit of help with concealing the sound of Lucifer's walk.

And thirdly. They're in the middle of nowhere, there's no cruise ships set to be nearby anytime soon, and the only people on the island are the ones he has to live with.

With these variables combined we have-

The most anti-climatic introduction in the making!

Sinister has posed:
"I think he's focused on the seashells and sensations --" Sinister observes "--Nick would've matured rather nicely, it seems like."

Sip. And that weather eye turns to the horizon and elsewhere on the atoll, scanning the surface of the sea and counting the striations on sea-gull feathers.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer quickens his pace a bit, to at least put less distance between the two of them. Though he figures, no matter what, a sudden new presence on an island otherwise uninhabited and not being currently visited is...strange.

To say the least.

"Rather nice day for a walk. Then again, I presume most days on this island are nice." The Devil speaks and then looks to the sack in his hand. "Want some food? Freshly homemade..."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The voice that reaches MD3's ears is most definitely not a beach sound. Nor is it one he's familiar with. MD3 turns around to look to the speaker.

He seems a bit calmer than the ones on the submarine. Although, being that there hasn't been any force fields or demands to SIT DOWN! Or items of that nature, that could be a factor.

Or it could very well be that this could be one of the ones staffing the island facility. Granted his stay has been here longer than expected, but there's the possibility he hasn't met everyone.

Also, there haven't been any planes or ships anytime recently so it had to be one of the staffers.

Right?

MD3 cants his head, looking to the relaxed attire. Non descript clothes, must be one of the top side workers. Loose shirt, easy to just reach underneath to gr-

Security.

Ah.

MD3 nods, "It is." He agrees, "Island time's the best."

Pale eyes look to the held sack that was being offered. "I've already eaten my share. You sure you want to be splitting yours so easily? There still hasn't been sign of the resupply."

Sinister has posed:
The scans continue with a sip of tea, gaze going over the pattern of waves and how they move toward the coast. That can tell a lot about the topology of the submerged, by oceanographic movement atop. Ever the scientist, Doctor Essex spent two centuries getting very focused at the same time as expanding his mind, after all.

"He thinks you're security. If you show your beach bod midriff, he'll see the high powered handgun that you don't have though. Anyone there will, unless they're.... very special."

Sinister. Also the equivalent of Psychic paper, when he has to be.

"I have a funny feeling that this splinter of the cell is isolated now, by the by. I'm seeing nothing that indicates any vehicular activity above or below, for several days. The currents are clean."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer lifts his shoulders in a shrug, the food still extended out to the man. "I don't really eat that much." A subtle shift will indeed flash a handgun - to perhaps lull this one into more trusting territory. "Besides. I know things. So I figure you must be a little more hungry than I am."

Whether the food is taken or not, Lucifer will offer a smile that appears genuine. "My name's Douglas by the way. What's yours?" Cause, you know, he's a friendly guy! Sometimes. Either way - this has to be going somewhere good right?

<<Wait,>> he thinks to one person specifically. <<Is this a snatch job? Or...get on the good side and over time grab 'im job?>>

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Lucifer's movement to reveal the imaginary gun works. There doesn't appear to be anything in terms of shielding when it comes to MD3. As Lucifer states he doesn't eat that much he blinks.

"I get the feeling after a few more days your tune might change and you'll be wishing you kept hold of your rations better." He looks to the man calmly. Seemingly studying Lucifer for some reason.

He's certain this is the first he's met the man but, there's something comfortably familiar about the stranger. But he's uncertain to what.

Eyes close. Nope. Nothing. Was this a test? He should have been back on the submarine days ago. Maybe they're worried he needs more time in the chair.

Eyes open as he considers the man. "Douglas..." he repeats, hoping that's not something designed to make him trip up. "I'm MD3. But since it's just me here, Michael may work if you prefer. As for your offer- How about...sharing just the stuff that's going to go bad soon so you're not the worse for wear later?"

Sinister has posed:
"I would go with it. He's working on assumptions here and it might be an idea not to dissuade him of them completely, just yet..." Sinister murmurs, narrowing his focus down on signs and signals of a higher energy flux on the island. Doing deep scans takes time, but he does want to know what all is concealed beneath.

Just how much time HAVE you been working on this particular base, Hydra? Construction will tell him a fraction of that, just by knowledge of timelines for such things. You know, when you're mostly just normal humans, that is.

"Head's up, there's a typhoon on the horizon. Winds will be picking up on you quite soon."

Lucifer has posed:
"Michael. I think that's better than what sounds like an assignment number." Lucifer 'Douglas' offers. "Yeah. It does seem a bit quiet here, but I suppose that's the ropes when there's nothing on the horizon." He pauses briefly as Sinister warns of the impending typhoon. How to put THAT into the conversation might be a bit tricky.

"Except maybe clouds...unless I'm just seeing things." He offers and then, "Also. I'll agree to that. Splitting the things that will expire soon. Guess that'd be the best of both worlds in the long run." Does he sense the idea of familiarity? Hopefully that doesn't go too far since he's put on a different name and to some extent there's trickery to the mind because this guy thinks he's just laxed security.

Oh. Wait. Security. "Sounds like there might be a storm brewing. We should likely head back to shelter."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As far as construction is concerned, it appears that the construction underneath has been there for awhile. Maybe even the 40s when windows were still a thing on underwater vessels.

Within the small cave MD3 had emerged from earlier, there is a general hatch that accesses a ladder to go deep down to a landing with access to another hatch. Figures that even when staying at an island the beds would be in a submarine type environment. Just...less mobile.

The age could also probably explain the lax accommodations for the disabled. There's no wheelchairs that are going to roll through THAT access point.

With checks for other types of energy it does become clear that there's considerably less people down below than on the submarine. Nor do there seem to be indicators of distress.

The newly branded Michael gives a slight smile. "I have a lot of brothers. The numbers become necessary when together."

The mention of the storm causes for Michael to turn his head, glancing to the sky. "...looks like it."

There's a glance to the direction of the high ground shelter and then to the direction of the cave. "...How much time do you think we got?"

Sinister has posed:
"I'd say about an hour before the wind is too strong. Tropical typhoons at this time of year can throw gale force winds. The sand and sea will be impassable..." Sinister advises this, then pilots the 'blackbird' upward, to get a view of the storm eye. "It's a 3, maybe. Troublesome but not base destroying. Also, I'd estimate there's maybe seventy five to a hundred people on this island. How many do we /actually/ care about?"

Because such things need to actually be asked, when you're him. He isn't particularly caring about any of them, realistically, except that one down there, other than pure scientific curiosity.

"This is their little paradise of downtime. The security here won't be brilliant, if I'm correct. But there will be enough, because... they're used to being the targets. This place is relatively secret though."

Lucifer has posed:
There's a moment taken for 'Douglas' to look off in the same direction. Perhaps an illusion thrown that he may have someone in his ear - because there are others on this island. No one has to know he's not talking to any of them BUT MD3. "About an hour or so. Pretty strong winds expected, making the island impassible. Otherwise, it doesn't sound like it's going to be too terri-bad." This and then he glances back to the cave.

<<I don't care about any of them unless they're clones. If he's the only clone here then the others wherever are simply fodder.>> Because, at the end of the day, Lucifer will deal with them all his own way. Special places in Hell and all that muck. He might even reuinite some people. For the sake of fun.

"Suppose we should get somewhere that we'll be safe and dry. No one's calling for anything though so...you still get to hang out in your slice of paradise."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Michael smiles a little to the estimate of time. "An hour's doable." He decides aloud. Turning, the clone starts heading in the direction opposite from the cave. "Upper shelter's nicer."

Sinister has posed:
"Yes, that one looks a little more like a standard carribean island resort, though without much in the way of amenities. I think it's probably as good as it gets for this lot. And duly noted. I'm going to have a look at what we've got in there..."

Which he will do, whilst an hour, doable as it is, is enjoyed before the winds are too high and absolute carnage ensues below. It won't be a fun thing, to have the devil walk amongst them after all. It rarely is.

On autopilot, he closes his eyes and reaches, mind to mind to mind. Examining, tasting them. What DO we have, here?

Lucifer has posed:
"I'd prefer something closer in case our timing is off, but I'll defer to your judgement on this one..." Because Lucifer is still trying to gain trust here. And there's food to be had - whatever is in that paper bag. He /did/ bring something. From home. So it's not going to look like their rations unless someone can name him think it's their rations.

So he'll wait until Michael moves, and then will go along with him. To wherever he is led. If there's other places to explore, he'll find the time to go there perhaps. Once the storm is over. Unless someone manages to put him to work.

Yeah. This'll be great.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Michael spins round, backwards walking as he looks to Lucifer, hands lifting up in a palms upwards gesture. There's no attempts to head back from where they came. "Hey you can head back the other way if you want. It's not like I'm going to be able to swim off the island. "

With a spin of his feet he turns back forward, walking towards the high point of the island. "OR- you can just walk faster."

As in illustration, Michael steps quicker. His added physical age apparently granting him a bit more height to make his strides a little longer than Nick's.

Typhoon Schmyphoon. He's not about to go hopping into that underwater tin can more than he has to.

Sinister has posed:
There IS a logic to the whole 'go for the higher ground' thing, particularly if you don't quite entirely trust that the underground bunker isn't going to be diabolically buggered up. Or someone isn't going to make your life hell down there...

But as to food being food that is different from the food that is here? Well, if a thought strays skyward, there'll be something done about that.

"Can you find out if there's anyone else worthwhile on this island, or whether I can just drown the bunker in a typhoon when it strikes? It would make things a lot easier."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer narrows his eyes a little and then smirks before beginning to walk-run at a pace that almost makes him appear to be floating. He stays pace with Michael fairly easily. "Quite the stride you have there. It's almost a challenge." He offers with a grin and then glances back for a moment at the building typhoon that approaches.

"Higher ground is definitely important. You don't have anything in the underground bunker that you'd miss for the just in case?" Worse scenario sort of thing. Maybe the spark of worry will make him talk. Or second guess his decision for higher ground. However, if there's no fear, and only dismissal. Well. That might be the key that turns the fate of the underground entirely.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As Lucifer speeds up his walk, an impish grin forms on the clone's face as he speeds up his pace a bit more, quietly starting a walking race uphill.

Michael gives a slight guffaw to the question. "What, like sentimental soap? Spare clothes?"

He takes a second to properly step up on an outcropping of rock leading towards the greener parts of the less submerged section of the island. "We're getting out of the weather, not moving."

As some droplets start to fall, the pair start to reach an outcropping of trees.

To the area below, there's little in terms of interesting scans. Seems mostly human. And a kitchen worker working on an absolutely amazing fudge recipe.

    two cups semi-sweet morsels,
    one cup peanut butter,
    one can sweetened condensed milk,
    now microwave two minutes
    Stir in one teaspoon vanilla extract
    and a third cup powdered sugar
    Stir in walnuts
    Spread into pan
    Chill for one hour. At least.


Oooooooh can't wait!

Sinister has posed:
The cursory feels tend to be all that Sinister at least needs, to make up his mind. Great minds? None that strike him as exceptional. Mostly human, spot-on-the-wall that isn't human, but that's enough relatively speaking. A preparation gets underway for an EMP, and a rather interesting DNA missile, which he loads up carefully loads up from the fridge and inserts into the munition housing.

"Sometimes, mutation can be quite ludicrously specific as well as occasionally rather useful. Fredrick Moss, son of a junk yard dealer, who ended up being able to speed up the decay of metal. You might have driven it into their yard, it wasn't driving out again -- New Mexico has so many strange little mutagenic hubs, thanks to Trinity..." Speaking to nobody in particular, it may still be heard as he slips the missile into its chamber, payload attached and heads back to the cockpit to program coordinates for guidance and pin-point accuracy which will just add a little more oomph when it's TK boosted, too. When you can literally hit the eye of a spider at two hundred yards...

"Oh, here's a fudge recipe, too."

The target? The hatchway in the cave. The 'rust' will spread so nicely.

Lucifer has posed:
"I suppose I was more thinking... you mentioned brothers. I would think if one needed to ride out a typhoon it's more fun to do it with family, hmm?" Lucifer offers that much, but it's enough for him to feel like there's nothing in the lower bunker that Michael cares about. He knows where most the siblings are, in fact, but eluding to that would lead things against the current moment.

He shifts to begin easily climbing up that rock outcropping, stepping carefully but towards the greener parts of the island. "If you had a chance to get off the island...would you take it?" Keeping it casual. Like he's just tossing out what ifs to keep the conversation going.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Oh no." Michael replies, "They'd never let more than one of us out at a time. They're still stuck in the sub."

They're making good time, any faster and they'd be jogging.

But as the hypothetical question is staged, Michael stumbles slightly as his foot hits a tree root. "Huh?"

Michael keeps his eyes forward, moving in that direction as he considers the implications. Was the delayed pickup intentional? Is Douglas a test?

There's a hint of dread to his thoughts as he considers what would be the least damning answer. Certainly if he could leave with his brothers he would but-

Damn it. He doesn't want to end up going back to that chair anytime soon. "Uh yes- I wouldn't mind seeing my brothers again."

Sinister has posed:
Boom. A very quiet kind of boom, guided by telekinetic power.

And then covert listening in. "He's not lying," Sinister informs. "Although he's extremely wary. You know, oddly enough, I think this one, out of all of them, has more of a measure of the Nephalim than the others -- the Grace is there. Even if the others demonstrate the geneology. It may be workable to actively ... ah... shine... Lightbringer."

Of course it could also backfire, but Grace does call to Grace and the devil never lost the shine. Even if he did lose his seat at the right hand.

Lucifer has posed:
"I could make that happen. I could take you away from this. No more island. No more chair. Reunited with your brothers." Lucifer says this as he hears what Sinister says and gives a little smirk. The tropical attire fades away, the gun that was never there anyway is not there now, if Michael turns around he will see an angel. All white suit, glowing white but not blindingly. More like he's bathed in a warmth that seeps out from his person.

"This isn't rations. It's home made food. My name isn't Douglas. It's Samael. I'm sorry for deceiving you but...I had to know...had to make sure you were ready for the truth that they've been hiding from you. They make you think you're safe here. You know deep down you're not..." He speaks this much, hoping that he hasn't put out too much too soon.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
It is a good thing that there are those privy to how thoughts run within the clone's mind. With the previous concern still somewhat floating upon the mind, the start of the sales pitch has a less than desirable reaction. As he starts to break the threshold between speed walking and jogging.

Fuck. It was a test.

Nothing more than empty promises.

Fuck Douglas- He is NOT playing ga-

Yet another tree root has its say, catching Michael's foot. With the added momentum to one side of his body, the clone spins round, tumbling backwards before a tree stops his movement.

The change to Douglas's appearance is not missed. Eyes widening, Michael presses up against the tree, taking in the suit, the wings and...the general glow-like effect.

"...fuck."

Either to his credit or just the sheer shock, Michael doesn't run. He just stares quietly as Lucifer gives his name.

"...You didn't seem like a Doug."

Seeming gathering his senses, he takes his weight off the tree to stand upright. "...What are you?"

Lucifer has posed:
"Oh. I've been known as many things. The Morningstar. The Light Bringer. Baelzebub. Satan. Devil. Lucifer." The devil shrugs with this, wings going up with his shoulders. All six sets of them. "Some say I'm a demon. Others a fallen. In all technicality I -am- an Angel. I am THE Fallen Angel. I think there was even an Anti-Christ tossed around a time or two. As if that would be the reason I call Him Father..." Those last words come out with a bitterness.

"What I am not, dear Michael, is a player of games. I cannot lie - truth bending is a little gray area. I know where some of your brothers are. I know this because I took them. I killed Jimothy." He pauses. "Oh. You wouldn't know him as Jimothy.. Oh what was his name... doctor...Rosebaum! Yes. Him. He's dead. And in Hell. Suffering daily. Well. Was suffering daily. I gave him a break. Because I can. This island, actually, I think is what he wanted to see..." There's a shrug.

"This is not a test. I am not in any way associated with the ones below. Or the ones that had been on the submarine. I can take you to freedom. And I can even introduce you to the one you are named after. He's my nephew. With a lot of Greats tied to him."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Michael's brows opt to remain on high ground as the consider the revelation being presented and his very thoughts being called out.

Which...is more or less a good indicator there's no point to overthink.

The mention of a Jimothy being killed doesn't do much until there's a clarification to the name. But upon the name being uttered, his posture seems to relax a little.

Briefly. Once news gets around the doctor is dead, there will be vultures to come for what's left. Eventually. If not already.

"You have my brothers?"

Sinister has posed:
"We have your brothers," the voice comes in, even though there is nobody there. Because telepathy if you aren't used to it, does feel a lot like an invisible person speaking out of nowhere, does it not? It does. Sinister exhales, programs another missile, this one to create a break in the cave wall and swings around, to hover cloaked, watching below.

The image on his screen is magnified, of course, watching this exhange. The display paints his pale skin in lurid shades.

"I am healing them, in actual fact. This was not their fault, nor is it yours, as to who you are and where you came from. But there will be no more chair."

Lucifer has posed:
"We know it's a lot. To ask for your faith in us. After all you've been through. All the promises broken. I have no other way to convince you. But as he said and I've said. No more chair. No more words that make you crazy. We even have ways to heal you of that. There is a whole world out there waiting for you to join it.." The devil says this and then walks towards the hole that's been broken in the cave. "And if you really want, I can take you to the doctor so you can beat the shit out of him. Over and over again if you like. Or not. Up to you. All we need you to do is come with us."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Michael turns his head, looking around for the second voice, curled hands raising in response. Seeing no one, he brings his hand up to his head. Another mind reader?

They say his brothers aren't in the sub.

Does he really go trust the devil?

Eyes look to the wings...

Two and Four had something similar once. Although their's had more a black and white striped effect to it. But the sh-

It's hard to argue against that trait. And...even if they're living in hell, it'd be at most a lateral move, right?

And they have his brothers. Healing them even.

No more chair. No more of the pictures...

If the offer to attack the newly named Jimothy was meant to comfort, it doesn't work. Instead the clone's face twists into a scowl.

"I don't want to see him ever again."

Michael seethes. "Or have him near them ever again. If he's no longer doing that. It's enough."

There's the sound of a rumble in the distance. Somewhere in the direction of the cave that Michael worked so hard to move away from. Not another thought is given that way. No consideration to the potential consequences to the sound. No screams of names or darting in that direction to help out. Just a jaw clenching for a few moments before he nods.

Even that doctor wouldn't create a scenario this weird.

"What the hell. It's not like I'll be missing anything here."

Sinister has posed:
"You may wish to get clear. I'm bringing in the typhoon... take his hand, it will be a simple step."

The 'blackbird' spins though, a different set of equipment geared up, a strange whining occurring in the depths of the aircraft and a considerable building of ozone in the atmosphere with it.

They will be able to see the storm suddenly darkening and growing angry though, spinning faster -- typhoon winds are terrible, the hurricane of the south pacific, moving counterclockwise instead of clockwise through the skies.

Lightning crackles, the sea picks up and goes with it, churning like it's attempting to consume the land and the coral atol of the Island.

Battenning down those hatches is not going to work well. Maybe one or two will survive. Maybe one or two can hold their breathe indefinitely underwater. Who knows? But the underground? Will drown.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer doesn't wait another moment. Michael has agreed. Sinister is coming in with the plane. Lucifer knows the inside of the plane enough that he reaches to grab Michael's hand, takes one step forward with him and...

They'e in the plane. Safe from the storm. From the underground. From the chair. The pictures.

Lucifer spins Michael into a seat and smirks before shifting to give Nathaniel a peck on the cheek. "Well. At least this one isn't worse for wear.."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
No sooner than he agreed than Michael found himself tugged and spun into a CHAIR. The moment his ass hit seat, his head tilts to check the armrests.

No restraints.

Also- is that a cushion?

Curious eyes glance about the room. Noting the door, which won't be much of an option if stuff goes down while mid air but still good to know. Any forms of screens appear specific for flight purposes.

Pale eyes blink slowly before his posture relaxes.

Time will tell if he made the right choice.

But at least this seat is comfortable.

Sinister has posed:
"Welcome aboard..." Sinister murmurs, firing another missile of cloudseed then with a careful negligence, aiming straight through the eye of the storm and into the massive generation of electricity that allows the ship to ....

Blip. From one point on earth to another, through the wormhole generator. "Drinks in the back. I think there's water in the fridge. We will be near Bar Sinister soon enough and then... you will meet your brothers again. And perhaps eat something more than rations."

The red eyes look over to the clone, anything but what the Archangel appears to be; the seraphim keeps his company appropriately.