Scene #920: Lady Blackhawk and the Little Bird

Owner	Pose
Lady Blackhawk	Jefferson Regional Corporate Airpark is a little airport north of Metropolis, and it's usually next to dead. Today is no exception, especially considering the slowly failing light of a late afternoon. This is the place where you park your Learjet or gulfstream, and there are a few hangars devoted to that purpose beyond the number which are parked outside. All the way down at the far end of the runway though, well all by it's lonesome is a hangar like all the others. Save for the logo emblazoned across the hangar doors that is, "Black Hawk Logistical Services, Repair Hangar 18". Thats not actually hangar 18 of course, but well Zinda's no doubt a fan of Megadeth. Zinda hadn't been terribly clear or concise on just what she needed Elliot for, just that it entailed "Hero stuff" of some description. She'd sent ahead a pass to get into the airport, and well beyond that? There was a date and a time, and curiously enough she'd asked for measurements. Measurements of most everything, including hat size of all things. So no not the most conventional of recruiting efforts, but well this is -The- Lady Blackhawk. An invitation should probably be enough, right? Zinda is of course hard at work, hoisting ammo cans up into the fuselage. Fifty call, twenty mils, thirty mils, a veritable cornicopia of heavy ordinance she'd potentially dispense here in short order. It's hard work, and well if we're honest it's enough to make a girl miss the days when she had a ground crew. Guys who'd fix her busted gear for her, and greet her with an irish coffee when she returned. Flightsuit left tied off at the waist to expose the simple black and gold of her blackhawks T-shirt beneath, no miniskirt here kiddies. At least not yet, right? Motown left to play over the hangar's PA system, and well all is good in the world.
Elliot	34-24-26. Measurements. Elliot is a bit larger in the chest than Zinda might remember, but she doesn't hesitate on providing the numbers. The girl arrives right on time when she receives the invitation, dressed in a db green bomber's jacket with a warm fringe for her wrists, blue jeans, and carrying a messenger bag acorss her shoulders. The girl offers agrin when seh sees the state of the hangar, head tilted all the way back so that she can properly see the building. Hangar 18. She stares at the name for a long time before she actually enters. At least one mechanic might note that they were stared at by the petite, moderately busty girl with the long blonde hair when she made her way through the air lot, though Elliot didn't cause any trouble. Far from it, in fact, she actually found a crucial missing screw for someone working on a component and cursing up a storm as they stalked about looking for it. That's at least ten minutes saved when all is said and done. Now, however, Elliot is staring at Lady Blackhawk herself, blue gaze bright as it studies everything present and finally Zinda herself. She might be a bit enamoured. She might just be thrilled to be here. only time can truly tell! Once thing is certain: Elliot may be quiet butshe has the energy and enthusiasm of someone twice her size. She even bounces in her sneakers as she walks. "Hi!" That's Elliot. Too cheerful to be anyone else, right. Soon enough she is staring at the ammo cans set about the hangar. First time this cloe to a bullet, likely as not. Excluding the guy who nearly shot her the day she met Zinda.
Lady Blackhawk	Inside the hangar, it's better stocked than some air museums. P-51s, P-47s, thats a Sabre over there and a P-38 and well a whole lot else. It's a bit of a mess of outdated aircraft in various states of disrepair, nevermind the racks and rows of engines, and god knows what else strewn about. Set more centrally however, the plane Zinda's loading up? That is a P-61 Black Widow, if we're going to be particular. Painted as black as the inside of a coffin, save for the dark gold of the Blackhawks roundel across her wingtips. Not a screw out of place, not a panel left loose it's better than the factory ever delivered obviously. It's also, far from factory but thats another discussion entirely. "Hey Sweet Pea, good to see ya'll came on by."She rises atop the wing to plant her gloved fists on her hips. "Tonight, we're gonna go hunting for some bad guy stuff. Tonight, you keep your end up? Blackhawks might have a position open for you, ya'll follow darlin?"And a wave yonder, towards a series of shipping containers. "I left you some things in that blue one, put it on and get out here. One hour, we push off and go hunting."No beating around the bush, not with Zinda Blake involved for certain. So what exactly did she stage back there in that shipping container? Well a plain black flightsuit not unlike zinda's own, an over-G suit, chest rig, a pistol, a helmet with oxygen mask and...yeah ok. Thats an entire pilot's outfit, a modern outfit no less. "Now go on, Git! Get'cher drawers on, and we'll get you situated in your station."
Elliot	Elliot looks confused for a split second as Zinda speaks but she studies the woman's features with a great deal of care. Blonde brows furrow when she's asked as she follows. It gets a slow nod. Then, however, Elliot is grinning, her gaze tracking the wave that indicates those containers. The smaller blonde is off like a shot. She hardly has time to hear the rest of the details given how quickly she dives into the shipping container to come up with her unfirom and outfit. it is all gathered into her slender arms such that she is slightly off-balance as she turns toward Zinda. If there's another way to make a girl grin that incandescently no one has yet mastered the art of it. She cradles her personal outfit- pistol carefully set aside- like she's just found her first love. Then Elliot disappears into the hangar. There's a yell a moment later from a distinctly masculine voice. Oops. Curse those stylized bathroom signs. Still, it isn't long before Elliot returns. She is letting the oxygen mask hang for now, striding out into the hangar in a g-suit that hugs her form fairly snugly. It still isn't revealing, not with all the equipment. Elliot's even found how to put on her gun belt, though she points at it and tilts her head as her gaze finds Zinda. "I've never seen anyone shoot. Can you show me?" There's a lot of confidence there. The smile has become determination. Elliot could still vibrate through a wall without even being a speedster.
Lady Blackhawk	"Sure sweetheart, but that's more or less for show. Today you're just my gunner, if you need to use a sidearm? Well things have gone sideways."Zinda's finished with loading, it would seem. Grasping a wingtip, before swinging down with a clatter of boots. "Alright, rookie. Here is the score."She lifts a hand to grasp the 61's Propeller, if only to lean against it. "I know where a drug shipment is going to be tonight, it's airborne. We are going to intercept it, and destroy it over international waters to keep things legal." And a nod towards the parked plane. "This is a Black Widow, it's our boy. He has secondary armament which is best operated by a human, now I don't expect you'll have need to do anything but be a passenger. You're along, to show me what kind of person you are alright?"And a pause as Zinda straightens up, lifting her hands to get a cigarette lit. "Now listen to me straight, and know my words are the truth."And another pause as Zinda gets a drag off that cigarette. "All the world thinks the Blackhawks are gone, that they can just go out there and do whatever the hell they want. That the skies belong to them, that nobody will stop them. Well I ain't dead yet honey, and the Blackhawks ain't no airline. This is a combat unit, we fight and we kill and we do whatever it takes. You wanna be part of this unit, I'm gonna need to see you understand what's at stake here. Bird like this, enough ordinance to hurt an awful lot of people if you go off playing games. That might be enough for some punk with a cape, but we're Blackhawks. We're professionals, you got me Sweet Pea?"
Elliot	Elliot listens with a careful intensity that is rarely dispalyed by even the most dedicated learner. She has an expression of raw determination that somewhat belies her slight size. The girl leans a bit closer and nods, taking a deep breath as she tilts her head slightly to the left. The Black Widow is examined witha geat deal of care, blue eyes bright as they take in every curve of the plane. Slown ods greet the further explanations that are given but, at least for now it seems there's no words necessary. Elliot's eyes prove she is listening. At the end of the speech Ellie takes a deep breath, however, straightening to her full height, rising to the balls of her feet and bouncing there, toes first. "I'm not going to mess around," Elliot states firmly, tilting her head slightly to the left as she does so. "I', not going to do anything stupid. I promise." Then she starts to walk slowly toward the Black Widow. Elliot has a slim figure. It works well with a flight suit. She moves like it's her second skin. She saw how Zinda was walking, after all.
Lady Blackhawk	Theres a ladder in the fuselage, directly aft of the nose wheel. Up into the cockpit and it's tall and long, but not terribly wide. Getting into that back chair isn't too hard at least, the screens and panels back there all swing out of the way. Still for how much glass is present, and how good of a view that provides? It's unlikely that another switch, knob, dial or fuse block could even be mounted if you wanted to. Still getting into the seat, not so hard. Especially with Zinda there to guide, and then swing that console over and down come the currently powered down array of flat screens. Just getting situated though, yeah ok it's complicated. How to hook up the oxygen mask, the G-suit, how to get all the harness strapped up. What things like, the ejection seat handles? Yeah don't touch those. Zinda does actually depart for a moment to get her kit squared away, before she's climbing into the pilot's seat. That neat bright gold blackhawk's patch on her shoulder, the ace of hearts emblazoned on her helmet. The trappings of a proper combat pilot, casually flicking switches with those rolled down bright white flight gloves as the plane is gently tugged out of the hangar by the ground crew. Lifting a finger to touch the mic strapped to her throat as she glances over shoulder towards Elliot. "Hey did you see the score today, the Cardinals game that is?" Casual as can be, even as those engines start to whine as their starters spool.
Elliot	Elliot does touch a couple of things but she is rather gentle as she does so. Those blue eyes are intese as they study everything. The movement of the panels, the shape and position of the idals. Everything Zinda identifies by name, the ones whose meaningsare implied. She takes in all of it without letting her expression change for even a moment. Finally Elliot is in her seat, those blue eyes wide as she looks around, and offering Zinda a big thumb up along with a grin. "Cardinals," Elliot repeats back. She frowns for a second. Her brow furrowsand she blinks one or twice but then she tilts her head and lifts a finger to point it at her ear. There's a pause as the girl considers this and gets the repeated qeury. "They were up eighteen points at the end of the third quarter," comes the girl's nonchalant reply asshe looks around at the equipment surrounding her. "Okay. I've got the prep down. What's next?" She states this as if she's already memorized every detail she's been given, in the matter-of-fact way in which someone might repeat back a single phone number.
Lady Blackhawk	Whats next? Those two big Pratt and Whitney radials burst to life with first a cough, and then a growl of nearly seventy two hundred horsepower. "Right now, you just relax and keep an eye out on my wingtips. We don't need some idiot ploughing into us on the ground."And well with the ground crew safely away, Zinda brings up those throttles and eases the sooty bird around. Lining her up on the runway and after a little chatter with the tower, takeoff. The constant press of acceleration, as the wholly modernized bird gets going. It's a smooth ride of course, Zinda is flying after all. Easing the big fighter aloft, before turning towards the ocean beyond. "Alright. Right screen, weapons read out. See all the red boxes? Touch them, and read'em off as they go green." The display back there is, extensive. A whole screen devoted to the four twenty mils in the fuselage, the two fifties on the turret above, the 30 in the bottom turret and of course the four AIM-9Bs. There is another screen devoted to the veritable cornicopia of sensors mounted on those engines, another for the plane's electrical system, navigation, radar. It's alot going on, but thankfully touch screens do simplify the process somewhat. "Alright, once we get settled? I'm going to tell you what to say, and you'll handle the radio. Your job on this flight, is to lower my workload understand?"
Elliot	"Understood," Elliot calls back. She is squinting at the red boxes are being indicated to her. She nods then, tilting her head slightly, Individual words are easy enough. Elliot can read, whatever her issue with words might be. As for the multitasking? That doesn't seem to phase Mini-Blackhawk at all. "First check, green, Number 2, green. Three.... Green." Elliot reads off the boxes, just like she was told. As long as one knows their display it's easy enough to figure out. "Okay. I can do that! Just tell me what I'm doing and we're there," Elliot confirms, nodding her head as she does.She takes a deep breath then. Slowly. It's hed for a second then exhaled. Both Zinda and Ellito know the girl sometimes has trouble with interpreting words. She seems to be determined to make this a nonissue, however. "I can repeat back anything," she confirms then, tilting her head. "At the right times, even."
Lady Blackhawk	"Alright, so transmit following. Darkstar Darkstar, Hawk One one. Proceeding to target area, how copy?" Zinda doesn't so much as glance back, easing the big widow up to her cruising altitude before finally winging over and proceeding out to sea. Despite what's to come, or may come? With the failing sun, and a clear sky above low clouds? It's magnificent, the stars come out early and are all the brighter up here. From within the confines of a helmet, those big radials give off a pleasant even calming hum. Even as those turrets arm and deploy with their thunks and groans, it's easy to be put at ease. Up here all the world seems to be some perfect, beautiful, abstract thing. "Thanks for the score by the way Sweet pea, I hate to miss a game but that's life."and a pause, as Zinda reaches up to adjust..whatever she adjusts. "And for your own good, don't ask who Darkstar is alright?"
Elliot	"...Fine, I won't ask. I'll figure it out on my own," Elliot responds in an almost lofty tone but then she flashes Zinda grin. "Alright... Darkstar, Darkstar. Hawk One-One. Proceeding to target area, how copy?" Elliot repeeats this a little loudly but very clearly into the microphone. it's out of character... Actually, she uses the same inflections as Zinda down to the way she doesn't quite roll an ar. The hums and thunks seem to excie her, if anything. Elliot is bobbing slightly from left to right, vibrating with an excited energy that would be utterly infectious. "I'll try to make it worth missing," Elliot responds in a firm voice. "Alright. So, umm. We're Hawk One One then..." A beat. "I read the radio code manual you had sitting over by one of the mechanic benches. That going to help?"
Lady Blackhawk	The transmission that returns is, strange. It's read sans any inflection, almost like a machine reading it out. <<Hawk one one, I read you five niner. Darkstar assigns following, Snake Bite, Tyrant. Contact on course, on time. Continue your present course and speed for best intercept. >> "Well it's wierd and stupid, but we're under sort've a general callsign until we check in. They respond with our callsign, which we know before we leave. This makes it so nobody can like, intercept us and send us somewhere else. This plane, is Blackhawk 1-1 because there are no others. My callsign though, is Snake Bite."Zinda casually meters it off, as she flips that radar on and starts killing the lights. Dimming the cockpit to a pleasant degree, and well the radar is scanning and tracking something. A lone contact over the ocean, identified only as "TYRANT" One hundred miles and closing fast, a direct head on intercept! "Alright uhh, let them know. Just respond with 'Snake Bite Actual, Understand all. Judy Judy over.'"And well Zinda does flip that gunsight on, as the skies darken all the more. "Get ready Sweet Pea, things are gonna get real bouncy real quick."
Elliot	"Right... Okay..." Elliot switches on the mike. "Snakebite Actual, understand all. Judy Judy, over." The girl furrrows her brows at that. It's the first statement she didn't follow, to judge by her expression. Then she shakes her head and sighs, clearly uncertain if it s the codes being used or that she herself is missing something. Happens all the time, after all. "Bouncy it is," Elliot chirps back in her too enthusiastic way, glancing over all the controls. "Sounds good. I need to learn how this thing moves anywya..." She half mumbles that statement but is grinning the entire time, eyes wide while she studies the panels in front of her. "We're green, Snake Bite. You're clear to engage hostiles..." The girl pauses for a second before murmuring, "...What are fighting?" She finally looks outside the plane.
Lady Blackhawk	"We're fighting amatuer hour chuckle *@&!^$(#&!^"And yeah, thats Zinda for you. Anyway she lifts a gloved hand to cinch down that oxygen mask, before slowly rolling her head left to right. Stepping over their little radio relay to transmit herself. <<Snakebite Actual, fangs out.>> And with that, she flips the boosters on and those little zap flags pop out on the right side. Just as the airplane deftly rolls onto it's back, Zinda's head snapping up to peer after something in the inky dark beyond only she can see. Grunting audibly as she jerks back that yoke, and chops the throttle. Four G, Five G. Snaproll to the right, and now it's an almost ninety degree dive. The Speedo pegs at 500, because the needle can't go any further. Racing downward into the inky blackness below. Then a flash of color, the red hot cherry of an airplane's exhaust. Those four foreward vulcans erupt, the whole aircraft jolting and rolling under the recoil. The flash, the smell of cordite even through the oxygen mask. The sting of it in the eyes, one second and more than thirty pounds of high explosive incendiaries have struck home. A neat line from engine to cockpit, erupting in a burst of flame and orange sparks. Even in the dark, even with the closing speed. The first time it happens in the real world, it's unforgetable. Especially at a mere hundred fifteen yards, what used to be a Cessna caravan doesn't explode like a model on a sound stage. It buckles and tears, splitting apart like a christmas orniment hurled against a brick wall. The way it reflects against the oceans below, or the faint green and red glow of the trawler below. Zinda grabs the speed brakes, chops the propeller pitch and dials in some rudder before she starts to pull. The airframe creaks and groans, and so does Zinda. Forcing bloodflow up to her brain, as more than 9G struggles to rip the eyes out of her skull. Giving another long burst of gunfire as the Widow scrambles to lift it's nose, stitching 20mm shellfire across the stern of that trawler. Just in time for the proper pull out, grunting and gasping. Off go the speed brakes, and she snap rolls back to the left with another grunt and gasp. Dipping the outboard wing close enough to almost kiss that dark water below. She's going after that trawler. "Snake Bite splash one, moving on target of opportunity."
Elliot	Elliot looks lighke she might be sick for a seocnd. The way her heart has to thunder to keep blood moving to her head, how her eyes feel crush and her lungs press against her chest cavity until it seems like she might suffocate ontop of all the other problems. She doesn't actually lose her lunch, however. The girl jerks when she first hears explosions, seesm etal tearing from the wings of a plane, but she watches without flinching as it goes down, learning everything that Zinda can show her. As Zinda descends toward the trawler Elliot is back to looking around, muscles relaxing as she can finally take a deep breath. "Snake Bite... Snake Bite, this is- uh... Sweet Pea." Elliot is transmitting on her own? The girl reaches up and quickly brushes her fingers through that long hair as she continues. "Seeing two bogies on an intercept course at our five? ETA is thirty seconds at present acceleration. How copy?" Either Elliot is making stuff up or she has pretty keen eyes. The planes in question are really dos on the horizon but Elliot stares at them the entire way as they head in toward the Widow that she herself happens to be copiloting. Even better, it's just like Elliot said. Bearing, present speed? Spot on. She was barely even using the instruments, actually. Elliot shifts back and forth in her seat and looks to Zinda to see if she got that right.
Lady Blackhawk	"Understood"Is all Zinda offers, panting into her mask as she cranks that widow around. Wheeling around to put that trawler in the pipper, and then theres this bright flash. That isn't a flashbulb, or a gun. It's a SAM, a Strela to be specific. <<Snake Bite Defending, crush crush!>> And with a grunt and a grab of the throttle, Zinda does what she does best. She makes that fat Widow -dance-, sweeping a wing down as she pops that airbrake for just a moment, in a sort've abrupt corkscrewing swing good for an easy six G. Just tight enough for that Strela to scream by what seems like feet above Elliot's seat. Those Vulcans bark oncemore, pounding more than thirty pounds downrange. It doesn't just explode either, it pulps. The Trawler heaves, twisting as it catches flame, only for the Widow to streak by overhead. Wingtip passing through the narrow passage between the bow antenna and the deckhouse. Even as the cockpit explodes in a flurry of warning bells, and a single monitone voice. "Missile launch detected, Missile launch detected." The Widow rolls through, before cranking hard across. Hurtling over the deck as those big radials scream, glowing cherry red as methanol and water is force fed into the cylinders. Those big props carving corkscrew contrails from the air as it starts the G-load, pockets of white condensate erupting over the top of the wing as the Widow lurches. Loading those Gs up, peaking over nine as that missile streaks past the left wing. <<Snakebite Fox two, Enguaging pair.>> Voice as cool as ice, nevermind the reality of the situation. That pull rolls to the right, lifting the nose up towards the dual attackers before theres a loud -CHUNK- as all four of those Sidewinders are kicked free of the centerline with a cute little explosive charge. Only for all four of them to hurtle onward. Erupting in a pair of fireballs moments later. <<Snakebite Splash three, plus one tub. Site sanitized. RTB.>>
Elliot	"Elliot's teeth are chattering when the plane finally slows down. She lans back into he seat and sucks in a deep breath. She's flushed but apparently coherent because her hands aren't shaking as she reaches toward the control panel. Elliot isnt' stupid enough to touch any buttons or adjust anything without knowing what to do. So instead she just lets her fingers drag lightly across the panel. The girl is looking around after, taking loud, deep breaths a shedoes. Then she gives a soft laugh. "That was...." A pause. "Um. Wow. Don't tell me Sweet Pea is actually my callsign...?" She asks then, turning slightly to face Zinda. "You're amazing," The girl enthuses then. "Better than everyone said. I- um... Wow..." She blinks several times and then sucks in another deep breath, blinking. "Those missiles would have torn us to pieces if one of them hit, right?" Elliot asks then, tilting herad slightly as she does so. Chatter helsp with the nerves for some people. The ones who dont' throw up all over the cockpit after their first high-G maneuver, anyway.
Lady Blackhawk	"You're Snakebite 1-1, for now. I'm Snakebite Actual.."Zinda corrects, tugging those throttles back as she gives a final slow victory roll before easing the plane back onto course. "Of course I'm Amazing, I'm Lady Blackhawk Sweet pea. There ain't nothing on heaven or earth that can put me in the ground."Cocky sure, but she's also calm. Unruffled to the extreme, as ever of course. "Well it would have hurt our feelings, a right terminal case of unkindness."And so the Widow begins it's climb skyward oncemore. "Alright put the safeties back on our guns, we're about to cross back into US airspace." "Pretty good for a ninety year old design, with some wizz bang gadgetry. Should've never gotten the drop on us, but thats what flying with ancient hardware does to you."Which, well it entered service in what..'44? So yeah, modernized or not, this is nothing new.
Elliot	"Okay. Snakebite 1-1." Elliot agrees, nodding her head as she does. She might have been a little out of sorts but she settles easily into her seat, nodding. Talk of terminal unkindness and missiels doesn't seem to rattle girl too terribly. THose aren't nerves you'll find in an ordinary teen, that's for sure. Especially one who claims to have no combat experience. "She's beautiful," Elliot responds to comments on the age of the plan. "It's crazy how well all of this fit, though. You guys added all kinds of interesting things..." Elliot shrugs slowly. "Is this like what you flew during the war then?"
Lady Blackhawk	"No, I flew XF5Fs and then XP-50s mostly. We were due to switch over to F7Fs and P-61s, I was always a night fighter by preference anyway but the 5 and 50s were way too small for a radar. Short range too, and small ammo bins which was always a problem. So I did alot've that work in an A-20 Havoc all by myself at night, which is kind of like a bomber with foreward firing guns. Good bird, just very slow."And a slow suck of oxygen, as the Widow finally levels out slowly. "Oh and ME-109s, FW-190s, Zeroes, Zekes, you know pretty much everything. Getting one or two planes, never the problem. Getting parts, was what kept us flying our oddball 50s and 5s. Nobody else flew them, so parts shortages weren't an issue. Not my preference though, I mean I went ace in an ME-109 I stole from the Afrika korps."And a glance out the window. Nobody asks Zinda about this kind of stuff, oddly enough. It's kind of nice, if she's honest. "Well nothing about this bird is original. Every rivet, every wing spar I made. I was going to do something more modern, but well I don't have a billion dollars laying around. So i just built the most advanced thing I knew, and it's far from ideal. Slow, takes forever to fix, short legs, low altitude, noisy, high radar return, high thermal signature. Part of being a professional though, is making do with what you have. Not wasting time on what you want, focus on the hardware and you become reliant on the machine. You have to be it's mistress, which is why when you get your wings? You ain't gonna be "Sweet Pea". We'll come up with something cool."
Elliot	"Good." Elliot makes a face at that but then she's laughing softly. "No one gets to call me sweet pea but you." Then she flashes Zinda a quiet smile, taking another deep breath as she stares up at the top of the cockpit while she listens. "I want to hear all about it," she offers, tilting her head slightly as she does. "The Afrika Corps. The different planes. Your favourite battles..." She sways very slightly in ehr seat and then takes a deep breath. "And I want to go get my wings," elliot adds quietly, looking around. "This makes- so much more sense than being out there. I can get the dials and the meters and things..." She slowly shakes her head. "Words are weird. But, um. Thanks." A beat. "For everything, really."
Lady Blackhawk	"Thank providence, not me Sweet Pea. I got shot through a time portal thing in 45', and arrived in time to put you in that seat. Somone above my paygrade did you a solid, not me."Zinda gives a sigh, easing back over the shore as she slips the plane onto a course back towards the airport. "Favorite battles, I dunno. I miss the machines certainly, miss the people the most. Hartmann, Barkhorn and Rall are all dead. Marseille was assasinated, and those guys were all jerries. THen there was Robby olds, Gabby, McCampbell, all those guys. Everyone's gone, do you know how many aces are alive in the world right now? None. No pilot living, is an actual verified Ace. We have jets and drones and missiles, but no more aces. Now all these guys have college degrees just to sit in a cockpit, and like seriously? Why be a fighter pilot anymore, whats even the point of it?" And well, sure even Zinda has her weak spots. "My whole squadron, gone. Burried all over, nevermind all the garbage they wrote about Stanislaus after he died. Called my old skipper a Commie, you believe that? Called Hendrickson a secret Nazi, dude was slaughtering fascists before they were born. People just can't abide a hero anymore, gotta tear everyone down."
Elliot	"Mmm..." Elliot nods slowly at thi last sentiment, slowly shaking her head. her chin rests against her chest for a moment. She seemst obe deep in thought as Zinda speaks to her, head tilted slightly to the left while she considers what she can say to this. "People don't get it," she murmurs a she tilts hr head slightly to the left. "Like. They don't understand who peple are, or why they do things so they have to make things up that make sense to them. Sometimes they're even right." Elliot sighs then and twists her weight so that she can look at the dials again and finally sigh. "You can tell me more about them sometime if you want. Buy you a drink after we land?" There's a pause as ELliot adds, "Well, you have to buy a drink when we land. And we can talk somewhere private so you can tell me all abouty our friends. It's the right time of year for it..."
Lady Blackhawk	"We're on duty today, drink tomarrow sweet pea."Zinda leans back, reaching up to pop the gear down and lower the flaps as she swings the Widow around for it's landing. "Marsielle, had a crush on the guy. But yaknow, he was Luftwaffe. Stole he plane, we almost shot each other down a few times. Heard he'd died, which broke my heart. Now they're saying he was going to defect, so they killed him."She doesn't sound Bitter, no not at all. Not one bit, except for all of everything she just said. "Only guy who ever spooked me, you should look him up. Books about him, books about all of them these days."And touchdown is, well it's not just soft it doesn't even feel like touchdown until the front wheel chirps. "But yeah people these days, they're just spoiled. I grew up in the depression, dodgin revenuers and gangsters with my pa." And well the hangar doors are already open when she slips the Widow into it's parking spot. Killing the engines as the tug begins gently easing the bird back into it's little spot inside the hangar, amongst all the other old obsolete war birds.
Elliot	"They don't do books like yours in audio mostly," Elliot responds quietly as she is exiting her seat to follow Zinda from the plane. "And I'm not asking for other people's words. I want to hear yours." Elliot sighs softly at this, shaking her head as she walks, wreathed in a brilliant whirl of golden curls. "I'll get you the drink when we're off duty, obviously. I mean, whenever that is supposed to be." She gives a slow shrug of her shoulders at that statement. "At least that way I can hear the story from someone who actually understands..."
Lady Blackhawk	She slips down the ladder with a grunt, slowly giving a stretch before finally unlatching that oxygen mask. "Well I still need to teach you how to shoot a gun, so how about we do that and I'll answer whatever you wanna know alright?"And off comes that helmet and, low does that beautiful blonde hair go tumbling over her shoulder. Lipstick intact and all, not even a trace of helmet hair! "I didn't know anyone cared about that stuff darlin, but I don't mind tellin."And a pause, as she peels off that velcro patch on her shoulder. Reaching over to gently apply it to Elliot's own flight suit, how rad is that!
Elliot	Elliot just stares as the velcro patch is placed on her flight suit. She squirms a little bit and then takes a deep breath. Then Zinda is flashed a positively luminous smile. She pats her unclasped oxygen mask briefly and then rolls her shoulders, stretching as she moves up close to Zinda, taking a deep breath. "OF course people care. That's why they write those books..." She pauses for a moment before icking her lips. "And I... Think you're amazing. I'll listen for as long as you want to talk. I'll even pour." Elliot delicately places a finger on that velcro patch, hardly touching it. "Okay. Show me how to shoot. Let's go!" She'll follow Zinda wherever the woman leads, of course. No room for hesitation.
Lady Blackhawk	Sans G-suit and flight vest, and guns (maybe), and well ok so flight suit and a T-shirt? There is something that qualifies as a bar, because this is Zinda so of course there is. Tucked away in another shipping container, there are kegs, a tap, glasses, A/C, a juke box and a few old couches. As far as Zinda is concerned then, it's a bar! She slips in with a languid stretch, cigarette already lipstick stained as she makes a B-line for the mugs. "So what did you even want to know, it was a big war yaknow." She pulls a pair of mugs and gets them filled with a roll of the shoulders. Deadliest female fighter ace in history, like fourth deadliest ace of the second world war. She's pouring beer, so who's going to durn it down? "You ask and we'll figure out where to start."Offering a mug towards Elliot, as she delivers a swift kick to the juke box. What is that playing, Iron Maiden? Yep, Iron Maiden.
Elliot	Flightsuits are perfectly good clothing! Elliot doesn't mind wearing hers, and it does look pretty good on her. Maybe it's because she's learned some confidence for w3hile she's wearing it. The girl smiles at the little bar and then tilts her head as she moves up beside Zinda to accept the mug of beer. "Hard to know where to start," Elliot admits quietly as she sips her drink. It's arguably illegal, though private functions are actually a gray area in terms of the law. A glance at the juke box follows. "I want to know about you, more than the war." Elliot makes that admission quietly, turning so she can look over toward the door. "Afrika Corps. WHy did you end up having to steel that plane...?" It should be noted that Elliot watched Zinda do some shooting and then followed suit. She moved like an expert marksman... Except she didn't know how to reload. Zinda hadn't shown her that yet. The shots were on point, at least.
Lady Blackhawk	"Well in 38', I'd just won my second Bendix trophy. First woman to do that in the unlimited class, first person to ever do it twice, only one to ever do it twice with the same plane albeit by 38' that old GBZ was pretty chopped up. I was kind of shopping around for sponsors, because well the GBZ wasn't going to hack it for 39'. Well Germany invades Poland, things start getting nutty. So I tried to join the Army Air Corps, then the navy and well I was a woman so no."Zinda gives a shrug as she claims a couch, and reclines. Crossing those boots casually at the heel and stretching one arm across the backrest. "So I flew to Britain, but they didn't want me. Tried the Free French, the Free Polish, even flew to Russia to try and join up there before I heard about the 'Hawks. Down bustin tail in North Africa, so I made it to Cairo. I uh, Borrowed an Egyptian airforce trimotor ford. Found the Afrika Korps first, and well I was a woman."And at this, finally she gives a smile and a wink. "So A few had heard of me, or at least the family business. So they thought I was just some pilot girl from America, no worries. Hans-Joachim marseille had kind of an incredible puppydog crush, but didn't speak the best english. So he ended up being all awkward and shy, but well I kept everyone drinking. Then I kept them drinking some more, and some more, and by dawn I was the last woman standing as it were. So I left Marseille a letter signed with a kiss, and borrowed his airplane. Helped myself to their charts and maps, a pair of Lugers and took off to go find the Blackhawks. When I ran into them, well we hadn't gotten those shiny XP5Fs yet so I just kept the ME-109 until we transitioned over. ME-109 was a poor choice for the Zero anyway, and I had to paint it colorfully to keep me from getting mistaken in a brawl."And a little shrug. "I still have it back at the island actually, I always intended to give it back after the war but well."
Elliot	Elliot listens with rapt attention, going throug hher first beer easily enough. She even handles the second relatively well, settling in on the couch next to Zinda rather than finding someplace completely unoccupied to park herself. There are sympathetic winces a the lowest parts of the story and eager nods as tension builds. She hangs on the blonde's every word. Once everything is said and done, however, Elliot looks down at her glass. Her cheeks are flushed and although she isn't acting particularly off she has to be feeling the effects of all that alcohol. She' kind of small... And also underage by modern standards, even if she wan't back in Zinda's day. "I don't wish bad things on you, but... I'm still glad you're here," Elliot finally adds simply before takign a deep breath. "Anyway... Wow. It's a good story," she notes rather sheepishly. "I..." Elliot shakes her head slowly. "Do you have awhile still?" she asks then. "I don't have anywhere I need to be in the morning..."
Lady Blackhawk	Zinda is a drinker but she's not, evil. Right now, anyway. So well she does rescue the remains of Elliot's second beer, pouring it into her own. Making a show of winking before she polishes off her third without so much as a blush, goodness gracious the girl can drink. "Well what do you know, I've got the day off too I suppose.."And with that she rolls to her boots, if only to refill her mug and snuff that cigarette out. "Careful darlin, I'm kind of terrible at everything that isn't being a fighter pilot."And a pull, before she fwumps back where she started.
Elliot	"I don't think so. You've been a pretty great instructor." Elliot twists on the couch, drawing up a knee and foldign her leg half beneath her. She is looking into thtaller woman's eyes now, her expression thoughtful as she studies that face. "The last thing I need to be is more careful, anyway. Something else that you taught me tonight." Then the girl leans frward, deliately resting her weight agains Zinda's shoulder by placing one hand atop the other and moves to give her a slow, forceful kiss. She's past the point of hesitation given she's more than a little tipsy. And that leaves it to be passionate and sweet... She's inexperienced but it isn't anything a bit of beer cant help her with.