3778/AtatatatatatatFOOOOM!

AtatatatatatatFOOOOM!
Date of Scene:	31 January 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Zinda shows Alex her aeroplane.
Cast of Characters:	Lady Blackhawk, Havok

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Lady Blackhawk has posed:
It's funny how many small airports there are along the Eastern seaboard. It's also funny how many of them run air shows. When the sun goes down, most of the pilots flock to the bars before staggering back to their hotels rather than trying to fly home. It's usually a boon for the small bars, at least once all the dust settles.

Right now at the bar there's a boisterous, busty blonde at the center of attention. And loving it. Zinda Blake flew her refurbished P-61 Black Widow to the air show and even put on her Blackhawk uniform as well. Including the too-short-for-1940's pleated skirt. Laughing loudly, she's telling combat stories while pounding back the beers with some of the old-timers.

Havok has posed:
Alex Summers wanted to get away from it all. Just got in his jeep and drove up the coast. He's had bouts of stir craziness ever since the incident and needed to get away from the school as well as anything in Manhattan. Today, he finds himself sitting at the bar with a beer sitting on the bar being slowly turned in his right hand. He noticed the girl with the mouth and the stories of days gone by and he figures she's another displaced dame out of her time zone. Which is pretty common for this mishmash world of random encounters and random events.

    Alex drinks and then takes a moment to look slightly over his shoulder to the revelry going on and figures it's a private party of pilots, something he is not. That's his brother's crowd, if anything. Instead, he returns his attention to the bottle and the assumed silence in front of him.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
"... so once Ah'd drunk most of them pilots under the table, Ah just excused myself to the ladies' room. Walked right past it, out the door and out onto the tarmac. Hopped into a '109 and fired it up. Everybody was too drunk to care, so once Ah was airborn Ah was home free."

Zinda finishes her beer and puts it on the bar for a refill. During the pause she looks around and notices Alex sitting by himself with a bottle. "You gonna sit there by yourself all night, sugah? Or ain't you interested in hearing a bunch of old timers kickin' around war stories?"

Havok has posed:
Her accented words definitely draw his attention. He was going to ignore her approach, play it cool - or something. But when she addressed him directly his blue eyes lead the turn of his head toward her. There's a smirk, a slight smile, and then he shifts to place his elbow on the bar and swivel more directly toward her as she finishes her remark. "You hardly look like an old-timer."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake picks up her refilled mug and saunters over towards him. It's a casual thing for her, but she's definitely working the walk. Those heeled boots and short pleats help quite a lot, as well. Pulling out a chair beside him, she uses it to step up and plant her butt on the table. "Zinda Blake. Ah can show you my driver's license if you want, but Ah promise you that Ah -did- fly against the Germans and the Japanese. Made Ace within my first week up, too."

Havok has posed:
His blue eyes cannot help but take in her walk, her long legs, and then of course that attitude. Alex even smiles a bit more as she takes a seat and brings the challenge of her age. His left hand handwaves off the suggestion to look at her license, "No need. I believe ya. I'm Alex Summers. Just a guy who didn't fly or fight in any conventional wars."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake nudges the brim of her pilot's cap up a bit as she regards him from her perch atop the table, allowing for plenty of distraction between boots and skirt. "Ain't no crime to have not fought in any wars, Mister Summers. Back in the day, everybody pitched in where they could even if they didn't fight." She pauses to look him over, then. "So you just out enjoyin' the air show today?" Her accent is deep South, probably Georgia.

Havok has posed:
"It was nice. Lots of cool planes." comes his answer as he tries not to look at her 'distractions'. Trying to focus on her eyes, and be a gentleman. He adds, "So you fought in the big war... Now you tour the country doing air shows? I'm guessing you got your own plane. Right?"

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake flashes a wide smile at that, and if she's offended by him being distracted she shouldn't have put those bare gams right in his face. "Yessir. Only survivin' member of Blackhawk Squadron, here. Ah'm CEO of Blackhawk Freight, but the P-61 is one of my private collection."

Havok has posed:
"P-61? No kidding? That's the twin engine, twin tailed one, right?" Alex is guessing, but he paid attention during American history and WWII when it got interesting - military stuff." He sits up a little straighter, interested in the content of the story.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake nods to that, thumbing in the general direction of the tarmac outside. "Yep, that's the one. The 'Black Beauty' outside. Night fighter; one of the first with operational microwave radar. Ah didn't get much of a chance to fly one during the war, but Ah made sure to grab one before they all got scrapped at the end."

Havok has posed:
"That's really cool. Mind if I take a look? I didn't get a chance to see it at the show. Guess I missed out, big time." notes Alex as he finishes his beer and places it back onto the tabletop.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake nods towards the door, scooting forward and hopping down with a swishing of pleats. "Sure thing. C'mon, sugah." And then she's leading the way towards the door with long strides, whether he's following or not. Pausing at the door to flash a smile, Zinda waves to the others in the bar and heads outside.

The glossy black P-61 is parked out in the open on the tarmac, looking sleek and deadly even while standing still. She walks towards it more slowly. "Lemme open up the cockpit and y'all can take a look around. Don't touch nothin', though. Ah keep her guns loaded, and technically Ah ain't supposed to."

Havok has posed:
He'll stand, eager to stretch his legs, but also to see this plane. It's not even a rouse to get her alone or anything silly like that. Alex is genuinely interested in a piece of American military history. He always liked the parks with tanks. He follows, doesn't bother glancing back to the men whom she waved at.

He will catch up and she may feel his warmth. As in his body is warmer than the average bear, even gives off a nice heat.

Once outside, he'll hear her words and give a nod. "Roger that. Don't want to pull the trigger and blast anything." He'll let her go ahead and see to the adjustments and opening of things. He'll follow, but not too close behind. He's too busy looking at the plane.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake heads under the belly, first of all. Releasing the hatch, she pulls down an access door and slides out the ladder. "This'll take you to the pilot's seat. Lemme get the gunner's hatch open while you look around. Short skirt and pretty legs aside, she knows what she's doing around this plane alright.

The gunner's hatch is opened, then Zinda steps back to open the lower hatch on the rear-facing seat. "And this right here is where the radar operator sat. They had the best radar available for the time, but still depended on -seein'- what they were shootin- at."

Havok has posed:
Alex will move to the ladder as she's going up. He looks, but then looks away. Thinking to himself with a smile and shaking his head while looking off to the side and slightly down. He'll wait for her to clear the landing before he ascends the steps up to the designated cockpit. He will then move to take a seat and have a look-see at all the dials (which is very Bugs Bunnyish and overwhelming - http://tinyurl.com/yaa8wso7 ). Alex will say in his radio voice, "Pilot to bombadeer, pilot to bombadeer. Get ready to drop your payload."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake laughs softly at that, standing there on the tarmac with hands on her hips as she looks up into the cockpit. "Sweetie, this bird didn't carry any bombs..." she replies, but there's a knowing smile on her face all the same. "Ah kept the radar gear standard, outta respect for history. But she's upgraded with the best electronics this side of an F-22." Giving him a few minutes in the cockpit, she asks. "So what do you think of the old gal?"

Havok has posed:
He'll stand from the seat and move back down the ladder while he answers, "She's great. A real classy girl. You've done her well." Then he'll move to the other ladder to check the gunner's area. Not moving fully into it, but he'll say, "Ratta-tat-tat."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake's boots clunk-clunk-clunk as she climbs up into the cockpit and watches him check out the gunner's station. "You see that up there?" She points towards the top front of the canopy. "Binoculars on a swivel mount. Back then the radar only got you so close. Had to locate -and confirm- visually first. Ah talked with some of the original 'Widow pilots after the war, and those were their orders. All targets must be visually conformed. So if you don't see the Iron Cross or th' Rising Sun, she ain't a target."

Havok has posed:
Alex looks, is somewhat shocked, "I recall certain tanks in the late war being fitted with radar boxes. Weren't the best things, but they could warn against aerial targets. Least give them 5 to 10 seconds to react. I'm guessing this was probably less? Based on two objects flying toward one another at high speeds?" He descends the ladder and looks around the wings. There are several things he recognizes, but he's not at all going to mention that he has flown the Blackbird or other aircraft that the X-Men own. Instead, he's keeping all that on the DL.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake has kept most of the instruments looking stock, at least. But there are a couple of digital boxes under the pilot's seat and a multi-display perched by the analog instruments. "Oh, her radar had a range of about 10 miles, all told. Enough to get you close. Ground radar put you in the right area, then you were on your own. If you knew what you were doin', you could come in behind another plane and take him out before he ever knew you were there."

Havok has posed:
He looks underneath the wings, lightly touching the underbelly. "I would not want to be shot at in this thing. The armor looks like it has a few hard points. But still, .50 cal rounds will still punch right through this hull in several places. Has she ever been hit?"

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake shakes her head. "Nope. At least not according to the crew Ah've talked to. Like Ah said, most of the time she was a hunter. A silent killer. By the time anybody knew she was there they were goin' down in flames." She climbs down out of the cockpit as well, stepping back to the radar station to close up the hatch. "You wanna go for a ride?" It's night, of course.

Havok has posed:
"Maybe some other time. I need to hit the road. I've got a lot of miles to cover before morning. And my Jeep ain't no land speed record breaker." Alex states as his fingertips move into his jean pockets. "But, that's not saying I don't want to fly with you. That would be the greatest."