Participants:
| Scene Title | Unexpected Vision Is Unexpected |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Zoe ends her trip overseas by going on another trip by way of Fedor's plane. |
| Date | February 4, 2009 |
La Guardia Airport
So while landing at the airport isn't necessarily difficult, even with the unfortunate state the city is in, there's still some unexpected troubles to deal with, like confusion on the landing strip once the corporate jet has landed and she's disembarked. Oh, Zoe's sure that those Russian Revolutionary War pieces will absolutely thrill her uncle, especially since she can verify that indeed, the toys had been used (quite belovedly) by the Romanov children. Still, she's left to wait on on the tarmac for the corporate copter to take her to the Linderman Building, so of course she's predisposed to look around. The bush plan captures her attention, and she meanders close to it.
The Twin otter was a workhorse, often likened to a airborn VW bus the 'twotter' is hardly glamorous but it is well loved. Off by itself infront of a Chicago Air hangar, the cowlings for either engine have been set on the ground and its door is left open at the moment. This "twotter" is painted in almost maroon, and trimmed with stark white. Its gleaming aluminum panels arent smooth as one nears however. Theres patch panels, dents, creases and all other forms of evidence that this twotter has seen more than its fair share. "Canned Ham" is the title painted lovingly across the nose, and above it a can of spam with a dancing pig perched atop.
"Stick shifts, and safety belts. Bucket seats have all got to go."It could be classified as singing, if you were feeling generious. "I need to be here with me and not way over in a bucket seat, I need you to be here with me."and so on it goes. From the outside at least its not immediately obvious whos inside, but you can hear footfalls on the floor and the clatter of tools all the same.
Zoe studies the plane curiously, it seems fairly old and full of character. Old and full of character are generally two attributes that appeal to Zoe, and she is unable to resist approaching the blane, and laying a gentle hand on its side. She isn't attempting to use her ability, but if there are any strong resonances, they might tug her into an unexpected trance.
Plenty of strong resonances are connected to the Canned Ham, and sure enough the moment fingertips touch its cold aluminum shell things shift. Hope, desperation, frusteration, relief, fear, terror and pure joy all in extremes that almost seem unreal. Images of landing in small alaskan villages so remote, people just studied the first airplane they'd ever seen in real life from a distances. There was of course that time it hit a moose just after touch down, and hours of bloody agony as the pilot struggled to make the radio work with his eyes full of moose blood and glass. More bird strikes than you can count,and of course one instance in particular resonates higher than all others.
1981, and the plane had just finished unloading for a big camp of rich fisherman. Off "camera" somewhere, theres shouting, screaming. Yowling in pain and bloody fucking murder, before a mangled pilot races through the aft cargo door to slide across the floor. His jeans and shirt were largely gone in their entirety, blood was downright gushing onto the floor when it came. The whole plane croaked, as the elderly pilot scrambled towards the cockpit to retrieve his shotgun. You could hear it, brushing down the side of the plane before finally coming into view. A bear, a big fucking bear so big it couldnt manage to squeeze itself into the poor plane.
Meanwhile, the pilot fumbles, trying in vain to grasp at a box of shells before he just goes still. Flash foreward, it felt like some years and it had begun again. Happy children chasing after the plane as it lands, taking off with crayon drawings tacked all over its interior. Love, is there too. A string of pilots seem to have nothing but love for the plane, and indeed there are many nights spent in a hammoch strung under the wing and bad singing whilst doing maintainance.
"Oh!" Unexpected vision is unexpected! Zoe's eyes flutter closed, head bowed, and when they open again, they shine as pure silver, no iris nor whites to be seen. She flinches at the sight of the bear and the blood and such throughout its life as scenes are relayed to her, but does not scream. She's seen many a bloody battle and unfortunate mishap, as sure as if she'd been there. But her initial squawk, that might have been heard.
And indeed, it has been heard. Inside, Fedor pauses for a moment before stepping down the hatch to peer down the portside before crossing under the tail to peer in silence at Zoe. He wasnt sure what he was seeing, but he wasnt exactly concerned for the moment. "Ma'am?"He sidestepped, noting the pecular gaze she was giving. "Are you blind?"Now see, Fedor's innate oldguy senses were tingling. Blind people shouldnt be on airport tarmacs without dogs or little boyscouts dressed in pedophile shorts.
Once begun, it takes some significant effort to force it to stop. She can keep it from activating (most of the time), but breaking out is harder. Zoe appears to not have heard Fedor, her head cocked as if she were 'listening' to the plane, expression neutral. Her hand is still pressed flat against the plane's fuselage, the only apparent connection.
It was getting more recent in a hurry, but the intensity remained the same all the while. A body slammed through the aft cargo doors, in a disturbing repeat of the first pilot's demise. This time however, the form that follows after is the pilot himself. Dragging some poor youth by the wrist into the plane, before pulling the doors shut. Blood pools from a trio of gunshot wounds right around the chest. Just as the pilot removes his watch, and produces a switch blade—
"Miss, are you alright?"He grabbed at Zoe's wrist, tugging her hand gently away from the cold aluminum. He was young, his features handsome and clean shaven. Thats not the problem, the issue is that now you've seen this face before. You've seen this guy before, being dragged by the plane's pilot. "Are you alright, do you need me to call anyone for you?"
The emotions vibrations get more intense slowly as time progresses, real joy and happiness that seem entirely devoid of all else. It ends however, on a sour note of particular distinction. Some off chord, somewhere lost in the distance. Rage, despair maybe it was too muttled and far too fresh to really make it out. "Miss?"Fedor finally grasps for Zoe's wrist"Miss, are you alright!"he raises his voice another octave or two. Was she deaf and blind, or just funny lookin? Dont ask Fedor, he didnt know.
When he disconnects her hand from the airplane, she starts, and blinking - the pure shining silver of her eyes gives way to quite normal looking ones. "Oh," she says. "I - I'm sorry, your plane, it was so intriguing, I didn't realize it had so much history, it sort of bowled me over."
The eyes are a clue, but he'll play stupid for the moment. "I didnt know the Canned ham was so popular over here, but thankyou. She's mine."He lifted a gloved hand to thumb at the twotter"Are you into bush aviation or, just know somone who it delivered to? You never flew in it, or anything crazy like that did you? I know plenty folks have and all, I get lawyers and shit askin all the time."
Zoe blinks. "Oh - what, oh no, sorry. I'm um, I'm a psychometrist. I touch things and I can see into their past." She smiles apologetically, but adds with enthusiasm. "Did you know this plane had some initial contact with some of the more recluse Aleut tribes in Alaska?"
Que the fake blank look"Oh your evolved, wow thats really neat. No uhm, the original owner died and we never found the logbooks. We knew he worked pretty remote, hey actually. "he shifts some, peering towards the hangar "You wanna touch something thats seen way more action, theres a Mig-21 in there. We think it was involved in the yugoslavian civil war at one point, but we're not really sure to be honest."
Zoe blinks. "Well, uh…it's not like I go looking to watch the violence. It's sort of a front row seat." she explains. "I've seen my fair share of battles, believe me. I mean, not me personally, but well - very old. The Roman campaign on Masada, for example. And further back. It's all very interesting, but as a matter of history, and - I'm babbling, aren't I?" She offers her hand. "Zoe Porter."
Fedor smiles broadly, shaking your hand gently. "I'm Fedor Rochinikev, I'm a pilot here at executive air."He cocks a knee back, slowly wavering before neatly slumping against the fuselage. "Oh I follow, that sounds pretty intense. Masada is a fantastical example of fanatical resolve, I admit I'm a little jealous. Granted I'm certain it takes on an entirely different vibe when its not in a book anymore, goodness."He glances at hs watch a moment. "I'm not keeping you from a connecting flight or anything am I? Most of these guys around here totally wont wait like a big commercial airline you know."
"Oh no," Zoe says brightly, pushing up her glasses with a gentle touch of her fingers. "I'm expecting a helicopter, but it'll be a little bit before it comes. Rochinikev, though? I actually just got back from Russia, taking care of an antiquities purchase."
Goodness, antiques. See, this is reason number fifty seven old people are often grumpy. "Yes, We're from St.petersberg traditionally. I was born in Little Odessa I'll confess however, goodness so anyway are you a historian or just a collector? I bet you've got an entirely different concept of history."He smiles softly, extending his hand "Let me see who your flying with, I may be your pilot with the way things are going today."
"It's likely one of our corporate pilots. I'm a curator, actually - history is my job. My uncle, he's a significant collector." She doesn't say outright who he is. Zoe hates to namedrop.
Ahhs"Oh, I see yes. I'm afraid I'm not very plugged in around here, I just got in town about a week ago. I was hoping to peek at the New york institute of art, I'm not very educated but you know I'm afraid Alaska is a little lacking for high society. Anywho, I heard the museum was in the irradiated zone? I heard it from another out of towner though, so really whats going on? Even if they got nuked I hope all the art inside was somehow protected?"He knew of course, he hadnt spent this long looking for Felix without hearing about the name. Hell he shared arms dealers with some guy who was supposedly somehow maybe possibly involved with all of that mess, but you know you cant trust anything an arms dealer tells you.
"New York has many, many museums." Zoe says brightly. "The American Museum of Natural History might appeal to you most, and it's well outside the irradiated zone." More solemnly, "Certain parts of the city are declared a disaster zone, I understand though. You should probably call, or check online. What brings you here all the way from Alaska?"
"I'm what they call a fully certified pilot, meaning I can fly everything from helicopters to airliners. More money to be made out here, and frankly I need the money. You know times are tight, my parents were very wealthy but they left more debt than anything. Its been something of a scramble to try and keep it all in the family, so here I am. Country boy in the big city and everything, I feel like I'm in some modern day remake of Crocodile dundee."
Zoe blinks a little bit, somewhat overwhelmed by the font of unexpected personal information. "Well…I…" Zoe trails off uncertainly. "Crocodile…Dundee…?"
Theres a pause there, as Fedor recoils inwardly in horror."You've never seen Crocodile Dundee, its a like terrible movie from the eighties where they get this guy from the outback and he goes to New York. Anyway, nevermind I'm just rambling now. Goodness listen to me, you'll have to excuse my wordiness."he smiles softly anyway, taking a point to check his watch."well anyway I do need to get this done and get my Canned Ham rolled back inside."He reaches across, to produce a business card with a snap of his fingers. "Feel free to call me if you ever need a lift, I'm pretty sure I can get you places no company pilot would dare."
Zoe can't help grinning. "You don't know my company." But she accepts the business card and produces one of her own. Zoe Porter, it reads, with the number and 'Curator - Linderman Group, NYC'.
Fedor accepts the card with a smile in return, making it vanish in a similar snap of his wrist. "Have a wonderful day Miss porter, I do hope we bump into one another when we have a little more time to talk!"He smiles softly, and of course just as he suggested he really does have some work to do. So he slips back inside, and gets right back to it.
And just as he disappears, her chopper appears, and she picks up her valise and heads toward it, back into the city.
 February 4th: Eve Of Battle |
 February 4th: Tidy |