Fly [OPEN]
Who: Failjet and [OPEN]
When: Friday evening.
Where: The Great Plains outside the North District.
What: Just introspection and some relaxing flying. A moment to spend some time with whoever drops in. Flighty creatures of Nautilus, or those who are grounded.
Warnings: Nothing but maybe some teal deer.
Notes: More than one person can pop in. Just tag in separate threads please!
It's been quite a while since he's gotten a moment to really... do nothing. Looking back now, there's been nothing stopping him from it. He denies the fact that he has responsibilities outright, even if he knows now he does. Some twisted sense of duty towards this city. Towards Cyrus and even- yes. Even towards Aaron and Jin. As much as he dislikes them, he's grown into an odd sort of respect.
He's not sure he likes this, but it is what it is... and what else can he do but...
Let it go.
Just as he knows now, he cannot bring Cyrus back, and whatever it was that gave him the spark pulsing in his chassis now- he cannot revive. Nothing more than a memory. His memory. Or perhaps, how he wants to think of it. It doesn't matter now. What is done is done, and he feels alright about it. Slowly assisting in the restoration of the city. Forced to work with others and submit to an overarching will. Now... this is time for himself.
He twists into vehicle mode and sweeps along the rolling hills, and he can barely pick up on the feeling of the grass brushing his undercarriage. Pulling up into the sky, he moves into a high-arc, almost stalling before falling... slowly backwards. Flipping over and shooting back down to take a sharp turn around a small clump of trees.
Somewhere inside, something crackles over his radio. Distant music- whatever he's listening to...
"Hey, what about today?
Is everything ok?
The world is in my hands-
I don't care.
Something in my mind-
If I could realize-
The colours in my eyes are black and white..."
The vaguely unpleasant voice of the Harrier himself half-hums half-sings along, too. Though it's no musical effect... no. He's just. Singing along. And it's obvious he doesn't know the lyrics.
"Somebody, please help me- where is my soul- da da da..." He folds out into robot mode and back again, leaving neon pink contrails behind his thrusters. He must admit, he's really developing a taste for music.
Either way.
It feels good to just...
Fly.
When: Friday evening.
Where: The Great Plains outside the North District.
What: Just introspection and some relaxing flying. A moment to spend some time with whoever drops in. Flighty creatures of Nautilus, or those who are grounded.
Warnings: Nothing but maybe some teal deer.
Notes: More than one person can pop in. Just tag in separate threads please!
It's been quite a while since he's gotten a moment to really... do nothing. Looking back now, there's been nothing stopping him from it. He denies the fact that he has responsibilities outright, even if he knows now he does. Some twisted sense of duty towards this city. Towards Cyrus and even- yes. Even towards Aaron and Jin. As much as he dislikes them, he's grown into an odd sort of respect.
He's not sure he likes this, but it is what it is... and what else can he do but...
Let it go.
Just as he knows now, he cannot bring Cyrus back, and whatever it was that gave him the spark pulsing in his chassis now- he cannot revive. Nothing more than a memory. His memory. Or perhaps, how he wants to think of it. It doesn't matter now. What is done is done, and he feels alright about it. Slowly assisting in the restoration of the city. Forced to work with others and submit to an overarching will. Now... this is time for himself.
He twists into vehicle mode and sweeps along the rolling hills, and he can barely pick up on the feeling of the grass brushing his undercarriage. Pulling up into the sky, he moves into a high-arc, almost stalling before falling... slowly backwards. Flipping over and shooting back down to take a sharp turn around a small clump of trees.
Somewhere inside, something crackles over his radio. Distant music- whatever he's listening to...
"Hey, what about today?
Is everything ok?
The world is in my hands-
I don't care.
Something in my mind-
If I could realize-
The colours in my eyes are black and white..."
The vaguely unpleasant voice of the Harrier himself half-hums half-sings along, too. Though it's no musical effect... no. He's just. Singing along. And it's obvious he doesn't know the lyrics.
"Somebody, please help me- where is my soul- da da da..." He folds out into robot mode and back again, leaving neon pink contrails behind his thrusters. He must admit, he's really developing a taste for music.
Either way.
It feels good to just...
Fly.