Fangs Out & Hair Afire

[TerraOracle]

That's rather impressive, really.
We're very good at landings in this squadron!

Click to shrink...

We ARE pilots, so—

[X] Interject. The direct approach, apparently, was a bit too direct.
[X] Hug the Bunny

 

[mastergamer98007]

[X] Let Ghost finish her pitch, first. Remain silent.
[X] Hug the Bunny

 

[Axslashel]

[X] Let Ghost finish her pitch, first. Remain silent.
[X] Hug the Bunny

Ghost caused this. It will be her job to fix this. Then we can hug Bunny to comfort her. Feels weird to hug her if we just spoke to her. A calming hug when Ghost inevitably says something stupid or shocking seems better imho.

 

[FC Error]

I'm on a bit of a writing kick at the moment, so we gonna run a bit higher-frequency than usual for a bit.

Flipped a coin to break the tie here, so;

[X] Interject. The direct approach, apparently, was a bit too direct.
-[X] Hug the Bunny.

You lean over and catch the Bunny in a one-armed hug. "In my defense, she talked me into it." You put on your best reassuring tone. "And if you're not interested, no pressure." A quick Look directed a Ghost served to enforce this. "We won't push."

Bunny mumbles something incomprehensible, looking as if she's trying to fold in on herself and vanish. Ghost wraps an arm around her midriff in an awkward hug, apparently not keen on moving from her current position. "Say again?"

"Not saying no." she mumbles, barely audible. Ghost grins victoriously, snuggling closer to Angela and propping her head up on the couch's armrest.

"You won't regret it, I promise you that."

"Will she remember it, though?" you query, directing a smirk at Tabby. She shrugs unrepentantly.

"Perhaps we should have a camera ready, hm?"

Any reply is precluded by the phone, hanging on the wall behind you, ringing loudly. Sighing, you reach up, snagging it, and hold it to your ear. "Echo flight quarters, Specter speaking."

"Manto." the caller identifies himself. "Your flight is being moved to night-shift. No other changes to your schedule."

"Understood. Will inform the flight." you return. He acknowledges briefly, and hangs up; you return the phone to its cradle and turn to Bunny and Ghost. "Was Manto. Says we're on graveyard shift."

The expressions on their faces suggest considerable displeasure at this development. You lift Tabby's legs off your own and stand, stretching briefly. "Gonna go tell the rest. Any idea where Beaker is?"

"She said something about a morning jog." the boss offers, blush (very slowly) receding. "Not sure where, though."

You nod and set off on your search, locating both Brent and Jacques in the kitchen at the top of the stairs, working on breakfast. Tallboy waves you over, offering a greeting as he cracks eggs over a pan. "Should I ask what that was about?"

"The Illuminati." you deadpan. "Also, just got a call from our friendly neighbourhood NEAF liaison. Flight's been moved to graveyard shift. Probably BARCAP or night ops."

He nods, making a face. "Fun. How d'you prefer yours?" he gestures to the pan. You shake your head.

"Never liked eggs. Ghost takes them sunny-side-up, though."

He snorts. "Ah, you just don't know what's good for you. Go call them in, yeah? Food's nearly done."

You reverse course, exchanging a nod with Jacques, and pad your way softly back to the lounge. And turn the corner to see Tabby lip-locking Angela. Well, then.

"You work fast." you observe, with considerable amusement. The two break off, faces red. Smirking, you wave a hand towards the kitchen. "Food's about ready."

They stand, and move towards the kitchen - Bunny avoiding eye contact, and Ghost grinning like an idiot. You follow after them, exchanging a look with Ambassador and mouthing "later" to Tallboy's questioning glance. Leaning on a wall, you direct your gaze over to Jacques, who's dishing out hashbrowns. "Your other half due back soon?"

He nods. "Within a few minutes."

"Just in case anybody missed it, we're running graveyard shift as of the twenty-fifth." you note to the room at large. Bunny looks up from her plate.

"I nearly forgot. Got a email from the company, saying they're about finished forming that new flight - Foxtrot - and they'll be joining us on this contract. Might be here, might be further west, not sure yet. If they do end up here, we are to, quote, 'ensure the newbies don't get themselves killed like idiots,' unquote."

Tallboy snorts. "Sounds about right. Any word on the new aircraft they were getting?"

You perk up at this; there had been a memo a while back about the company getting some new planes on the cheap - and more immediately relevant, some assorted munitions for the company stores. Bunny shrugs. "Not sure. Ords guys say a shipment of interesting stuff came in not long after we did, but no word on anything plane-shaped."

You return to your bacon and toast, considering. 'Interesting' always makes for a, well, interesting time, when it comes to explosives.

"Oh, also." Bunny continues. "Got a message from Daishi. Apparently, we're past out first contract, so we can now repaint our birds as we please."

You pause, frowning. "Is that actually in the regs?"

She shakes her head, smiling. "Nah. Dai says it's purely informal, but kind of a budding tradition in the company. Something about good luck."

You mull over this. On one hand, low-vis grey is, as the name implies, low-visibility. On the other hand, high-vis paint jobs can be neat - or, hell, even stuff like ground-attack camo or night-fighter black. Something to consider.

_____

A few hours later finds you sitting at one of the desks in your room, slogging through the masses of paperwork that seem to accumulate wherever you go. Idly, you wonder if it duplicates when you're not looking. Certainly seems like it.

The musings on the nature of paperwork and its reproduction are interrupted when Angela enters the room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it, looking stressed. You raise an eyebrow, turning to face her. "What's up, boss?"

"Just heard there was an attack on LA. WAS. Not much news yet, but my neighbourhood caught part of it. My family…" she gestures helplessly.

"Damn." you hiss, standing. "Any idea what the target was?"

She shrugs helplessly. "They're not sure. Hits all over the city. Mainly industrial areas, but…" she slides down to the floor, burying her face in her hands.

Gently, you pull her upright and guide her over to the beds, sitting her on Ghost's and taking a seat on your own. "I'm sure your family's alright. They can't have gotten that much past the border, andthe air-defense net around LA is brutal, nowadays." You take her hand and squeeze reassuringly. "They'll be fine."

"It's just… the not knowing gets to me." she mutters. "Waiting for news, not sure what to think…"

"I can ask for an extension on our settling-in time, if you think you need it." you offer quietly. She shakes her head vigorously.

"I can still fly. Don't want to make a bad impression on our employers." she runs a hand over her face, exhaustion settling over her features. Leaning over, you rest a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back onto the bed.

"You look slammed." you explain, at her querying look. "Rest. I promise to keep the Ghost from jumping you in your sleep."

The ghost of a smile (hah) crosses her face. "Thanks. Wake me up in a couple hours?" Throwing a glance at the clock, you nod, leaning back against the wall as she settles down.

Much as these little reminders of the war are sobering, you reflect, you could really do without.

>What do? Finish paperwork? Locate the Ghost? Locate other wingmate?

>Additional vote: paint scheme for your Super Hornet? Possibilities include (but are not limited to): keeping low-vis grey, some nose art, night-fighter black, splinter camo, dazzle camo.

 

[moonberserker]

[X] Locate Beaker.

 

[Whiskey Golf]

Paint schemes... hmmm.

Low vis gray is a thing for a reason, but I like the dark gray RMAF Hornets wear. Alternatively we could go with the Have Glass V paint...

 

[Strypgia]

[X] Locate Ghost.

Maybe she can help Angela via reassurance cuddles.

>Additional vote: paint scheme for your Super Hornet?
How about...

Just kidding. Maybe Dazzle?

 

[Pyro Hawk]

Now, I'm not part of a military/have been part of a military, let alone and air force, or from the US... But for a paint scheme...

Nose art is a must. As our call-sign is Spectre, and our... RIO? is 'Ghost'... Well, it's kinda obvious what the nose art should be. Namely, some form of a ghost, maybe diving down out of the 'sky' onto target?

The question is what is the 'base' paint scheme for the plane, and I'd say probably a 'sky camouflage' scheme. Let us be a ghost in the skies...

 

[TerraOracle]

[x] Locate Ghost.

I'm not leaning any way on paintjobs

 

[Axslashel]

[x] Locate Ghost.
We promised to keep her from jumping Bunny in her sleep after all.

For a paintjob I am leaning towards something spooky as nose art. I would say a shost wasp/hornet but I my fear of insects and wasps in particular prevents me from suggest it.

 

[VileScurvy]

[X] Locate Ghost

 

[FC Error]

[X] Locate Ghost.

The boss murmurs a thanks as you pull a spare blanket over her, and you take a moment to shake your head and smile. 'Boss,' indeed - she's near five years younger than you.

Silently slipping out the door, you ninja down the hallway - Tallboy's asleep and Ambassador said something about going into town with Beaker. Ghost, however, lives up to her namesake - nowhere to be found. Kitchen, lounges, even when you check the empty quarters.

Frowning, you head downstairs and pull on your coat - the weather's surprisingly mild for March, but still cool - and settle on checking the hangar. If all else fails, you can try her cell, but she rarely carries it.

Thankfully, your hunch proves correct - the other half of Team Spoopy is sitting on a folding chair in the hangar, looking over the flight's jets and sketching. She glances at you as the door swings (loudly) shut, and beckons you over. "Hallo. Can't sleep?"

"Insomniac, remember?" you return. "What'cha up to?"

"Some drawings." she answers, holding up her pad. Leaning over, you inspect the page; thereon is a rather stylistic rendition of your Super Hornet, afterburner plumes visible, with a curious paint scheme on; grey, with what look like open wounds on the fuselage and wings, trailing blood - in the background is a moonlit overcast, with the rest of the flight silhouetted against the moon.

"Very nice." you compliment. "Didn't know you were so artistically inclined."

She shrugs. "Childhood pastime. Haven't had a chance to keep it up, lately." she flicks through several more pages; one depicting a Superbug in blue-and-black digital camouflage; another, showing a pair of Eagles skimming low over a forest. A fourth, showing a nose-on view of an Aardvark low over a desert, Durandals under its wings. You lean on the back of her chair, resting your chin on the top of her head.

"These are really good, Tabby. Wow."

She shrugs again; you feel her flush, heat coming off her cheeks. "It's nothing, really. Certainly not compared to my sister's."

The door screeching open again gets your attention; recognizing the elderly man strolling inside, pulling off his gloves and looking about, you and Ghost both snap upright and come to attention, saluting. "Sir."

Harold Wallace, one of the two co-owners of Silver Knight, chuckles and waves a hand at you. "No need for the ceremony, I'm sure," he dismisses, British accent crisp despite his age. "Been out of the service since the eighties, Leftenant." A memory of a nearly-forgotten company orientation pokes you - Wallace used to be a Vulcan pilot with the RAF, waaaaay back. He grins. "Specter and Ghost, isn't it?"

"That it is." you affirm, relaxing and shaking the offered hand, smiling as Ghost does likewise. "Must admit, wasn't expecting to see you in Massachusetts, of all places, sir."

He shrugs. "Good policy to tour the lines every now and then, hey? Besides, not often I get to visit bases. Doctors always seem to complain when I do."

"Fair enough." you chuckle. You'd probably go mad, stuck in an office. "Flight lead's racked out, or I'd call her," you append, noticing his querying look. Raising an eyebrow, Wallace glances at a clock.

"Graveyard shift." Ghost grouses, giving the doors a scowl. You laugh, ruffling her hair.

"Aw, it's not so bad. Less people to bug you about trivialities, if nothing else."

"Beats being in five-minute alert, tell you what." Wallace agrees. Casting a look around the hangar, he examines the four jets critically. "Hm. Interesting mix of aircraft."

"Being honest, I have absolutely no idea how Brent keeps that Fulcrum in repair, let alone how he can afford to get Russian ords shipped in." you mutter. "Plus the fact that it hasn't failed spectacularly in more than a year. That has got to be a record for Russkie equipment."

"They certainly have had issues in the reliability department historically." the boss-of-bosses muses. "I presume the Frog flies the wine-powered hon machine there?"

Ghost erupts into a suspiciously-timed coughing fit as you suppress your own unseemly snickering. "That he does. Just between us, I've heard him call it mon petít fleur a few times."

Wallace's laugh echoes off the ceiling. "Ah, only the French could describe a jet fighter as a little flower." He smiles. "Such a poetic language… if you can get past the people who speak it."

"I learned Quebecois French growing up, sir. I might have to dispute the 'poetic' part." you deadpan. Your Boss'o'Bosses (BoB?) chuckles, shaking his head.

"I'll take your word for it, young man. Not to be rude, but I do have to check in with your flight leader before I leave. Might we pay a brief visit to your shack?"

"'Course, sir." you answer, straight-faced, as Tabby tries to regain her composure. "S' not far."

_____

Leaving the B'o'B in the foyer a moment, you head up to your room, exchanging a nod with Beaker (who looks absolutely wired), slipping quietly in the door.

"Hey, Angie." you murmur quietly, shaking her shoulder. An eye cracks open slowly, swivelling to look at you balefully. "Top bossman is downstairs."

You're not certain Bunny actually moves; she seems to simply go from "lying down, under blanket" to "upright, awake, and mobile" without any of the intermediate steps. You swear you hear a thunderclap as she simply vacates the bed, already halfway out the door. You hurry after her, pondering this new physics-bending ability.

"Mister Wallace, sir." she calls out, descending the stairs rapidly. Coming to a halt, she takes the retiree's outstretched hand and shakes once, smiling, all traces of sleepiness gone.

"No need for the 'Mister,' Flight Leader Pellham." he returns, "I feel old enough already. Just Harold is fine."

"If you say so, si- Harold." she corrects herself. The man is question grins and reaches into his bomber jacket, producing a sheaf of papers.

"Your flight's being assigned a secondary role here," he explains, handing them over. "We've gotten Foxtrot flight together, but we haven't found any military vets or experienced pilots to put with them, as with your own flight." He nods at you. "As such, Echo flight is being assigned as their mentors, as it were; they're trained, but need some experience and tempering before they're really combat-ready. As such, they're officially under your command; they'll be split off again after this contract is over, unless you feel they need more training time."

Bunny nods distractedly, speed-reading through the paperwork. "No twinseaters?"

"Afraid not. All yankees, too - and none of them a day over twenty-four." Wallace grimaces comically. "You might have your hands a bit full with this lot."

"I imagine some good old-fashioned menial maintenance work will instill some humility in them." you comment, considering. It's not unusual for existing flights to mentor new ones - hell, Echo was put under Bravo for nearly half your first contract. Wallace nods.

"If you think you can handle the moaning and groaning, perhaps. Sorry to cut this short," he gestures vaguely westward, "But my plane to Cascadia leaves shortly, so I must be going. Do pass along my compliments to the rest of your flight."

Bunny, Ghost, and yourself come to attention and salute; with a resigned chuckle, the Brit returns it crisply, and exchanges another handshake with Angela. "Good to meet you all. Do take care."

_____

"That was unexpected." Bunny mutters, flopping down on a cough and going back to flipping through the papers brought by Wallace. You take a seat on the couch opposite, and immediately find your lap claimed as a pillow by your RIO.

"Could be worse. Could be a bunch of untrained newbies."

"God forbid." she shudders. "Well, I'll deal with this later." setting aside the rumbled paperwork, she stretches. "Fuck, changing my sleep schedule is always a bitch and a half."

Wat do? Feel free to multi-vote.
>[] Get that paint job sorted. Crew chief can get it done tomorrow, while you're racked out. (Specify desired paint scheme.)
>[] Catch a brief nap before you go "on-shift". (Cuddle the Ghost? Cuddle the Bunny? Cuddle both?)
>[] Ask the chief to load up your plane. You might get called up for CAP, or scrambled. Who knows. (Specify loadout.)
>[] Write-in!

 

[Strypgia]

[X] Get that paint job sorted. Crew chief can get it done tomorrow, while you're racked out.
- [X] Sharkmouth &eyes on the nose, grey dazzle for the rest.

[X] Catch a brief nap before you go "on-shift". (Cuddle the Ghost)

No bunny until that's sorted out verbally first. Don't want to spook her. Also, Ghost is fun to cuddle.

 

[Axslashel]

[X] Strypgia
Seems reasonable.

 

[HereticNepV]

[X] Get that paint job sorted. Crew chief can get it done tomorrow, while you're racked out.
- [X] Sharkmouth &eyes on the nose, grey dazzle for the rest.

[X] Catch a brief nap before you go "on-shift". (Cuddle the Ghost)

 

[TerraOracle]

[x] Strypgia

 

[VileScurvy]

[X] Get that paint job sorted. Crew chief can get it done tomorrow, while you're racked out.
- [X] Sharkmouth &eyes on the nose, grey dazzle for the rest.

[X] Catch a brief nap before you go "on-shift". (Cuddle the Ghost)

 

[moonberserker]

[x] Strypgia

I wish I could wake up that fast.

 

[FC Error]

I feel like I should ask for clarification on "grey dazzle" - for the record, dazzle camouflage is used to obscure a vehicle's exact heading/attitude/range, as such (argh it's hard to find dazzle-cam aircraft pics):

Spoiler: Razzle-Dazzle

Generally in a mix of greys, whites, and blacks.

Your "default" paint, for the record (minus the squadron/service markings);

Spoiler: Low-vis grey

Splinter camouflage;

Spoiler: Russian-style

And an example of digital camouflage.

Spoiler: Digital boi

EDIT: So Strype clarified that he meant dazzle-cam, using low-vis grey as the base colour. Nevermind my question, I was tired and confuse.

 

[moonberserker]

I dont know whats good so I just voted strypgia. Waiting for @Whiskey Golf to take a more informed opinion.

 

[Whiskey Golf]

Dazzle is good at confusing the eyes, I just don't like it on aesthetic reasons. Splinter has a risk of us being identified as Russian . Digicam, as you see in the pic, does a great job of obscuring the outline and features.

I am not really voting on custom colours because I have very boring fashion sense, I'm highly minimalist. I'd prefer the stealth dark gray they use on the Have Glass V paint on SEAD-assigned F-16s. But then the point of the Have Glass V paint is that it's a RAM coating paint. Take that away and it's just dark gray.

 

[FC Error]

[X] Get that paint job sorted. Crew chief can get it done tomorrow, while you're racked out.
[X] Catch a brief nap before you go "on-shift". (Cuddle the Ghost.)

"I hear that." you commiserate, rolling your shoulders. "I'mma go nag Chief about that new paint job, see if they can swing it tomorrow while we're racked out." You pull Tabby into a hug, smiling down at her. "And then I'mma grab a quick nap. Care to join me?"

'Happy Ghost Noises' aptly describes the response, so you gently push her off your lap and stand, stretching. "Back in a tick."

Your crew chief, thankfully, is in his office - it doesn't take long to give him a quick overview of your desired dećor, and he agrees that it can be applied tomorrow - though he raises an eyebrow when you mention the shark mouth. "Wouldn't that defeat the point of the dazzle thing, just a bit? Give the other guy an easy visual reference?"

You consider this. "Point. Hold off on that, then, I'll ask Ghost if we care. Thanks."

He waves you away. "Yeah, yeah, git yer ass outta here, some of us have real work to do."

You git, returning to the shack, taking a few moments to appreciate the crisp evening air. Stepping inside quietly, you pad upstairs silently, noting a rapidly-nodding-off Bunny claiming the couch, and swing open the door to your room to discover Ghost already hogging all the blankets. Before you'd even gotten there, even.

Shucking your jacket, you flop down on the mattress, pulling a blanket - and a Ghost - across you. Smiling at the sleepy, mumbled response, you pull out your phone, set an alarm, and drop it on the bedside table. Settling back, you wrap an arm around your partner and let yourself drop off.

_____

Not long later - before you're more than in that half-sleep twilight zone where the real world and dreams meet and blend - someone shakes you awake. Blinking, you snap back to normal as reality reasserts itself, and find Ghost straddling you, pinning your arms and legs, a worrying glint in her eye.

"Can I help you with something?" you croak, as cheeky as you can manage. She leans in, a sadistic smirk forming on her face. Oh, dear.

"You could say that. See, there's this pilot I know. Cocky bastard, and always makes me oh so... frustrated." She wiggles her rear for emphasis, causing certain… reactions. "And the bugger never offers to help with that. I have to make all the moves." A mock-disapproving head-shake. "How boorish of him."

You run that little speech through your head a few times. "In my defense, I didn't precisely know you ran this hot. As it were."

"You do now." Tabby returns, working at your flightsuit. "Care to lend a hand?"

"If you insist." you deadpan, carefully freeing your arms. Your other half, focused on your uniform, doesn't seem to notice - until you reach down and, well, lend a hand, drawing a yelp. Capitalising on her distraction, you grab her around the middle and roll, reversing your positions handily (hah) and pinning her beneath you.

"I have you now," you quote, affecting your best Vader voice, and allowing a smirk of your own to form as you go to work.

_____

The opening bars of 'Mighty Wings' drift quietly through the room, bringing you slowly back to awareness. Swatting at the phone with your free arm, you manage to shut off the alarm, and relax again as your senses boot up and begin reporting.

Ghost's head pokes out from under the blanket, her hair having managed to achieve an impressive state of bedhead. Blinking owlishly at you, she yawns, stretching out. "Time to get up?"

"So it would seem." you answer softly, checking the time. "Up we get."

Tab y grumbles and mumbles her way upright, changing into a fresh flightsuit - you take a moment to appreciate the view, before doing likewise - and then slouches out of the room towards the lounge, by now having progressed to semi-coherent threats aimed at alarms in general. Suppressing a chuckle, you follow, setting course for the showers.

Some hot water and soap later, you feel rather more human; towelling off and changing, you drift into the lounge, finding the rest of the flight (sans Tallboy) in the process of caffeinating.

"So we'll be on ten-minute alert, yaaaay." Beaker deadpans, flopping down onto a couch. Ambassador shrugs.

"Better than two-minute, non?"

"True." she grudgingly admits. "Still blows, though. And then there's the 'completely flip your schedule' thing."

"Eight hours of nothing much. Bring a very good book." Tabby deadpans. You nod agreeably, securing a coffee and taking a seat next to your RIO.

"So do we have any plans, or is it just sit-and-be-bored?" Tallboy, strolling in, inquires. A round of shrugs and uncertain noises ripples across the room.

"Might go into town. Scout out the good cafés and such. Maybe find something to eat." Bunny ventures. "Anyone else want to join in?"

"Might do." Brent replies, claiming the last of the coffee. Ambassador shrugs.

"I intended to discuss repainting my plane with-" he grabs Beaker in a one-armed hug "-and the chief. Possibly make friends and influence people among the base staff."

"Want to go recce the town?" you ask Ghost softly. She shakes her head minutely, making a small 'not now' gesture. You nod, turning your attention back to the others.

"-o see about painting up the bird before we go." Tallboy is saying, gesturing towards the hangars. "Got some ideas."

Jacques and Monica stand, heading for the door. "We'll be back… later." She calls. Likewise, Angela and Brent make tracks for the door, leaving you and Tabby on the couch.

"I thought we might… I don't know. Listen to music? Perhaps take a walk? Just… spend some time together, yes?" Ghost pre-empts your question. You nod, thinking.

>[] Music, hm? Saw a piano downstairs. My skills on that aren't quite what they used to be, but it'd be good to play again.
>[] Taking a walk sounds nice. You don't get to just… go for a stroll, very often.
>[] Other; what suggest?

Additional, re: paint scheme;
>[] Keep the shark mouth. The dazzle is more for decoration than function.
>[] Leave it out. No need to give the enemy more help than necessary.

 

[Strypgia]

he raises an eyebrow when you mention the shark mouth. "Wouldn't that defeat the point of the dazzle thing, just a bit? Give the other guy an easy visual reference?"

Click to shrink...

Counterargument: Shark mouths on fighters are cool.

"I have you now," you quote, affecting your best Vader voice, and allowing a smirk of your own to form as you go to work.

Click to shrink...

Something something thermal exhaust port?

[X] Music, hm? Saw a piano downstairs. My skills on that aren't quite what they used to be, but it'd be good to play again.
[X] Keep the shark mouth. The dazzle is more for decoration than function.

If we're getting into gunfights so close the mouth is an issue, we've already got other problems.

 

[Axslashel]

[X] Strypgia
Piano sounds good, very romantic (depends on what he will try to play though).

 

[TerraOracle]

Our middle name isn't Skywalker is it?

[x] Strypgia