[identity profile] lastblackhawk.livejournal.com
Zinda is grumpy, and Zinda is bored, and these are never good combinations, especially in an isolated village somewhere far too close to the North Pole.

She can't even wear a low-cut top OR a short skirt to the local bar. And what is a woman without cleavage? Zinda is unimpressed.

Also, unimpressed with the quality of the local moonshine. And the local men, who mostly seem to be either happily married or way too shy for Zinda's tastes. And the local utter lack of communication with anyone she knows except Steph, who's good company and all, but Zinda misses her BFFs.

And also, there's really nothing to do around here. Nothing to grow and nothing to build, and there's sure as hell no planes to fly.

Zinda really misses her plane.
[identity profile] lastblackhawk.livejournal.com
The Aerie One left the farm to drop a passenger somewhere in Greenland, just a few weeks ago.

A couple of hours later, off the coast of Labrador, there was a flashBANG and a sperm whale and a bowl of petunias, falling at a high speed, appeared in mid-air.

Do you know what happens when you hit a state-of-the-art flying fortress in mid-air with a sperm whale?



Zinda and Steph Brown do, now.



By some miracle, they crashed just a little off the coast, and the wind was blowing inland; it was a very pissed-off Steph and a shell-shocked, bruised Zinda whose parachutes dropped them just a few hundred yards out to sea.

"All our stuff!"

"My plane!"

"How are we supposed to get home now?"

"My plane!"

"I think I hate this world."

"MY PLANE!"





It has been a grim few weeks, although not hopeless. Both of them tend to be quite good at surviving, after all. They do not have any equipment, any necessities or any food, and both of them were somewhat thinner when they found, by dint of sticking to the coast and trying very hard not to freeze, a community that might once have been called Cartwright.

Of course nobody had a working telephone. But there are a few people around with food and shelter and warmth, and Zinda and Steph both are more than happy to work for them for a few days in exchange for warmer clothing.

And then ... they're kind of stuck.



"I can't believe nobody in this town has a working comm."

"I can't believe I lost the Aerie."



"They'll be looking for us."

"Damn right they'll be looking for us. But how the hell are they gonna find us? We disappeared off'a sat, radio, everything when the whale hit us. Like lookin' for two needles in a whole world o'haystacks."

"Two cute needles," Steph reminds her, grinning. They're training - Dinah's lessons stuck and it's a good way to stay warm outside - which at the moment is just stretches, warmups. "You know they'll find us."

"Yeah," Zinda agrees, and sighs. "I just don't know when."
[identity profile] lastblackhawk.livejournal.com
The Aerie One is a common enough sight at the Cooper farm - it barely raises an eyebrow for a massive jet to use the remaining roads as a runway, not when there's still a castle and a cruise ship towering over the fields.

Zinda is lounging in a deck chair by the fold-out stairs, in a very glamorous but utterly impractical bikini, with a giant pair of sunglasses and a cocktail.

Her cocktail has an umbrella in it. It's traditional.
[identity profile] lastblackhawk.livejournal.com
Metropolis is basically, yeah, Zinda's favourite place. It's hopping with life, people and parties and shops, and it's crammed full of folk who know the world's ended and just want to party.

Which suits the Birds fine.

Chaney's is a well-known meta club in Zinda's world, and apparently that much held true through the apocalypse; the inside is crammed full of humans and metas both, dancing and drinking and making a hell of a lot of noise. Zinda would really kinda like to be inside with them. Where the hell's the rest of her party?

Goldy and Claire should be out of the bathroom any time soon. Dinah and Babs are still off somewhere doin' something. It's not like Spoiler and her Not-My-Boyfriend-Zinda-Okay to be late for a rendezvouz; vaguely, Zinda's beginning to worry for anyone in their immediate vicinity, should they have found trouble. But everyone'll turn up soon, surely.

In the meantime: there's a tall, statesque blonde in uniform with a ridiculously short skirt, leaning on the bricks outside Chaney's and surreptitiously lighting a cigarette while the Skipper's not around.
[identity profile] lastblackhawk.livejournal.com
Zinda is waiting out the front of the farm, and the Aerie One is visible in the nearest cleared and not-being-used field.

She and Dinah have plans. Plans involving cheering Babs up, by means of alcohol, nightclubs, and computers. Probably mostly the second this time around.

The only problem is, she's no longer sure just how many people are coming. Dinah and Babs, obviously. Babs' Not-Father had bowed out, claiming he was too old for nightclubs. (Secretly Zinda agrees.) Goldilocks had seemed like a hard-drinking hard-dancing kind of girl. Dinah had mentioned something about getting fake proof-of-age cards for Spoiler and her friends. And that's only the ones she knows about.

She figures whoever's on board before, say, midday, that's who'll get a lift. The others have to make it there themselves.
[identity profile] angela-edmunds.livejournal.com
Angela walks out of the plane, following Zinda. She was very nice and Angela just hoped that other people would be as friendly.

Despite feeling physically much better, her emotions and mind are still in a sort of semi-shock, and she clutches her shoulder bag with both hands--the only things from home she had.

She's not sure where to go now...so she'll just follow Zinda.

God, I feel so stupid.
[identity profile] angela-edmunds.livejournal.com
Angela Edmunds, aged seventeen, was heading out to a modeling shoot. She was sort of tired of them now and it took away from her surfing too much. And she did not want to do competitions and she didn’t feel like studying…

Ugh. It wasn’t that things were bad, they were just tiring. And dull. She shifted her carryall to the other shoulder, and began to walk towards her car…

She blinked from a white flash of light (sun must have been in my eyes), and suddenly, she was…somewhere else.

She was on a long stretch of highway, surrounded by desert and brush. “What the…fuck?” She turned around, this way and that, looking for her car, looking for anything moderately familiar.

It was hot, it was afternoon, and she was in the desert with only a liter of water in her bag.

“Oh, shit.”

First Milliways…now this? What the hell? What had she done to deserve…whatever this was?

“What the FUCK, universe?!” she shouted, pissed off beyond reason.

Well. Nothing to do for it but walk. So walk she does, grinding her teeth and refusing to drink her water until it was absolutely necessary. After a short while of walking, she comes to a sign.

“I-40 East,” she reads. She looks behind her. Los Angeles is…a million miles backward. She might have a better chance at finding help if she went forward.

“Shit, fuck, dammit, hell, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she mutters under her breath. It’s quite possible she’s never cursed this much in her whole life.

Could be because she’s scared half to death. And she doesn’t have a gun.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!
galwonder: (piloting)
[personal profile] galwonder
Sparrow has never heard of this city known as Metropolis, but the map Oracle supplied turns out to be accurate, and she finds the airport with no trouble.

She's still a little wary about trusting Genni's life on the advice of this mysterious figure with more computer knowledge then even she has, but it's not like she has a lot of choice here, and Genni for one turned out to be anxious to find a big city to stay in.

Oracle was right about many things, but the thing Sparrow noticed now is the lack of Air Traffic Control. It hardly matters, given the lack of any other airplanes, so she circles in to land without trying to radio for permission.
slayer_fray: (worried)
[personal profile] slayer_fray
The sun's going down, so there were no problems putting the girls to bed.

Still, Mel's not inside. She's squatting on the edge of the bunker, with the shared bassinet right next to her, her axe the only thing between them, staring out in the direction her brother left in.

Keeping vigils for the Sokkas probably isn't the healthiest thing to do, especially as she left him herself for her sisterly "road"trip. But this is different. She's worried.
alwaysroomforhope: (c'mon it'll be fun -- promise!)
[personal profile] alwaysroomforhope
THERE IS PIZZA.

Steph is really pleased with the results of her baking and cooking. And it's been about a ZILLION YEARS since she had pizza.

So now, there is lots of pizza. And there's streamers and a handful of balloons, and plenty of glitter, and in every room (almost) of the farmhouse there are arrows pointing towards the kitchen with PIZZA PARTY!!! written on them.

There's a table of snacks -- chips and cake and sweet things -- and one of many plastic cups and bottles of soft drink. (The hard drink is in the cupboards, out of sight but totally present. What is a party without vodka?)

Angelo even let her borrow his stereo. So there's music, too.

PIZZA PARTY TIEM. Your host is one S. Brown, clad for the occasion in her Smallville Bar shirt-skirt-and-apron combination, beaming widely at anyone who enters the kitchen.

If your pup is at the farm or out the back, they should totes turn up here. Threadhopping and jumping and skipping is a-okay. Do stuff! I said to!
[identity profile] twiceahero.livejournal.com
Barbara had spent hours studying the data in front of her. Metropolis, while not precisely a great place, was far more stable than any other location she'd been able to turn up. Which meant that leaving wasn't something she wanted to do lightly. But if the records were right, well, she had to check it out.

Though why they thought Blackpool was a good place to stash the thing was beyond her. Not remote, but not central. Too much traffic in and out with no added security to make up for it... Probably a politician's brainstorm.

Still, the data looked good, and if it was then the risks of a trip outside of Kansas would be well worth it. Zinda alerting her that they were about to overfly the airport snaps Barbara out of her reverie. She shoots Dinah a quick glance and nods as her friend moves back to the cargo hold in case she needs to make a rapid exit.

Hopefully the place would be deserted, but you never knew.
[identity profile] twiceahero.livejournal.com
Barbara will never stop being grateful that whatever brought her here decided to grab Dinah and Zinda with her. She isn't sure she could have held it together this long on her own.

Zinda had found a small airstrip in New Jersey and they'd topped of their fuel tanks (and found no one anywhere near the airport). It was a bit eerie to find entire towns with no signs of life, and Barbara suppressed a sigh of relief as they picked up signs of movement on the ground when they overflew Metropolis.

The airport wasn't really being maintained, but they'd found a clear runway and Zinda had brought them in without any help from air-traffic control. Barbara smiled just a bit, apparently hiring a Blackhawk had been an even better choice than she'd imagined.

As they taxi to a stop Barbara shoots a look over her shoulder at Dinah, "It may be time to roll out the red carpet. Looks like we've got visitors."
serinusniger: (concerned)
[personal profile] serinusniger
In the flight from Australia to New Jersey, Dinah had Very Important Business to take care of.

This involved: - a side quest to a motorcycle dealership to uh, borrow a Suzuki and a small fortune in accessories. - customising said bike to her specifications right in the middle of the Aerie One's main bay, and finally - a long hot shower to get the oil off herself.

Now wrapped in fluffy dressing gown and turban, she comes into Babs' control suite to some very disturbing news.

"What do you mean 'not there'?"
[identity profile] twiceahero.livejournal.com
Barbara Gordon leans back in her chair rubbing at the bridge of her nose. She turns to Dinah, "I'm worried about Cassandra. I'm not sure this is the best thing she could choose to do. I mean--" she cuts off at rush of sound and light.

All of the computer monitors in the cabin have small blinking indicators "CONNECTION LOST". "Zinda?" her voice is calm, "What just hit us?"

Tags

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 8th, 2025 12:36 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios