[IC] Warbirds - Aces of Azure

[Blackhawk748]

Whats wrong? You have the nerve to ask me that, you pompous sack of hot air! Give me one good reason why i shouldnt break your jaw! she yells as she shakes her fist in Alistair's face

[Geckus]

“Farm-Boy, huh?” Michael stews it over for a bit before offering up a resigned shrug. “Well, it could be worse, I guess.” He can’t help but steal a nervous glance over at Betty as speaks – from the look on her face, he wouldn’t want to be in Alistair’s shoes right now. Attaching the pin to his flight jacket, he rubs at the emblem a few times to shine it up a bit.

Well it’s official; Mike Nelson, accredited Guild pilot and member of the Red Foxes. Things are looking up.

Heading down to the fighter bay, he checks in on the crew working on the Knock, intending to put a few hours in himself – the flap on it’s right wing had been a bit slow in responding and he looked forward to working out exactly where the problem was.

[RandomLunatic]

"I take it the callsign doesn't tickle your fancy then," Alistair said with the same expression one would use for observing the weather.

"I'll admit the job was a stumper. Of what you've told me about yourself, the one that stuck with me was the stunt you pulled to impress your examiner on your Guild exam. What did you call it, 'something really stupid'?

"Now that's a mouthful for combat comms. 'Bloody stupid git' works, but that's a tad harsh. So I went with just about the mildest thing you can call somebody, but also has several other connotations."

[Blackhawk748]

Betty continues to glare at Alistair before cocking her fist back and ramminig it into his plane, next to his head, then spinning around and marching off. "You missed a spot!"

She heads off to an observation lounge to watch the storm, which is a perfect match for her mood. She paces the lounge like a caged tiger, keeping her anger high, because she knows she might cry if she stops being pissed. Eventually, exasperated, she drops into a chair and just thinks.

A slow smile spreads across her face as she gets a great plan as how to get back at Alistair.

[Fri]

“Farm-Boy, huh?” Michael stews it over for a bit before offering up a resigned shrug. “Well, it could be worse, I guess.”

"You should be proud!" Amelia said to him out of nowhere, a bit too excitedly. There's no trace of her fight-eager attitude from before. You can see the emblem pinned proudly on her goggled leather-helmet, which she's still wearing way after they landed. Fashion statement?

"Farm boys have long and proud history of being the heroes who ended wars, killed dragons, and single-handedly duel the leader of evil cults who's going to end the world. I can imagine one story now already! Farm boy, spending his time shooting rats at his uncle's farm..." Amelia starts to reminiscence. "Mysterious parental background. Are his parents really dead? Ended up with him firing one-in-a-million chance shot toward the exhaust port of the enemy's undefeaatble flying fortress..."

[Hemnon]

The final hours ticked on by and, at last, you all reached view-distance of Haiti itself, with only 15 more minutes until reaching the main Port.
Now was the time to choose what to do while here. Stick around for a drink, maybe a few photoshoots or even looking for some sponsoring? The list of things to do is endless. All one needs to do is set their mind to what would be seen as entertaining and fun, and it would most likely be found somewhere on the Isle of Haiti.

(I'll give you all a chance to ICly talk about what you wanna do. Once ready, I'll continue on with the docking, the fair wells to the merchant ship crews, etc.)

[Binks]

"Ah Haiti. A beautiful place with plenty to see and to do." James notes as he looks out on the upcoming island from the nearest window to the pilot's lounge.

To anyone else in the pilot's area he adds, as he wanders back, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm quite looking forward to getting back on the ground for a bit. Enjoy some local cuisine, take in the sights. Maybe even work on some sponsorship now that we've had a successful run. Perhaps we could see about getting in the local news, find a nice reporter in need of a story and regale them with the tale of our daring and expertise in taking out the pirates who were trying to steal..."

"What was it these merchants were shipping again?" he notes questioningly, obviously writing the headline for the glorious tale in his mind already.

[Geckus]

"You should be proud!" Amelia said to him out of nowhere, a bit too excitedly. There's no trace of her fight-eager attitude from before. You can see the emblem pinned proudly on her goggled leather-helmet, which she's still wearing way after they landed. Fashion statement?

"Farm boys have long and proud history of being the heroes who ended wars, killed dragons, and single-handedly duel the leader of evil cults who's going to end the world. I can imagine one story now already! Farm boy, spending his time shooting rats at his uncle's farm..." Amelia starts to reminiscence. "Mysterious parental background. Are his parents really dead? Ended up with him firing one-in-a-million chance shot toward the exhaust port of the enemy's undefeatable flying fortress..."

“But I’ve never even been on a farm….” The complaint trails off in the face of Amelia’s reminiscing; how could he argue with the Black Rose? Oh, she might have just gotten the ‘Nib’ call sign today (and what was up with that?), but he’d read about her before and seeing her flying today - charging straight into the teeth of the pirate formation way ahead of any backup and emerging without a scratch - had only cemented her reputation in his head. Wait...I'm talking with the Black Rose! Say something interesting! “I have to…plane…holes…umm, bye?” Glowing red, Michael beats a hasty retreat from the bridge.


Later, as the airship approaches the port, Michael emerges from under his warbird long enough to take a look at the island of Haiti; from above it looked like a wonderful place, but once they were back on the ground…who knew? Spotting Amelia, he walks over to stand beside her. “Hey, sorry about earlier. I…get nervous around people sometimes...most of the time.” Scuffing a foot against the deck, he glances at her sideways. “So why are you flying with a bunch of rookie pilots like us? Cover for some secret Guild mission? Wait, if it's secret, you'd have to say no, but if it's something else, it would still be a no...”

[Blackhawk748]

Betty dropped the paintbrush back into the bucket and whipped her brow, making sure not to get any paint on her. Hearing that they where approaching Haiti, she went to her quarters to get cleaned up.

Spoiler: To those who walk into the hangar

Show

Betty has a new picture on the tail of her plane. Its a fanged skull wearing a jester's hat and chomping down on a plane. On closer inspection the plane looks an awful lot like Alistairs.

[Hemnon]

On The Shores Of Haiti

Haiti is quite, well, Beautiful. Port-au-Prince being the capital of the Nation is highly stylized, famously known, amongst others, for it's L’academie International, considered to be Azure's finest University.

Colours and music is everywhere, making it feel like you walked right into a grand festival. Maybe it IS festival time? There's a lot of bead necklaces, dancing and likewise shinanigans going on. The weather itself is nicely warm, lacking the heavy tropical warmth from the uplands

A small group of Journalists and interview folk are standing ready outside The Betty, wanting a word with the newly blooded Guild Pilots. They all seem quite eager to even catch the tiniest of scoop or piece of news.

Down the main street you can see a big sign, written in almost every Azuran Language there is. It says 'Welcome To The Republic Of Haiti, Guild Pilots!' Alongside that sign is a painted map with an outlined area of the City, clearly indicating where the main attraction area is for Port-au-Prince in terms of worthwhile entertainment for Guild Pilots to visit and enjoy.


Haiti is open to explore, enjoy or just plain ignore to drink yourself stupid instead.

[Blackhawk748]

Betty shoulders her way through the crowd of reporters, conspicuously ignoring them as she heads out to find a bar and something to eat.

[RandomLunatic]

With his squadron pin clearly visible on his flight jacket, Alistair paused a couple minutes at the dock for pictures. But as soon as he could, he left the media in Aztlatli's capable hands in search of scotch.

[Binks]

After checking to ensure that his jacket was perfect, and his pin clearly visible on it's lapel, James emerged from the Betty into the sunlight of Haiti, a perfect actor's smile plastered on his face. He moves at a casual pace, heading for the group of reporters, ready to give them a basic rundown of the fight on the way in and answer their questions, being eminently familiar with handling paparazzi.

[Fri]

Amelia whispers to the others. "Oh no, reporters. They're writers who don't have to even try to make sensical plotlines!"

[RandomLunatic]

"Well, they do say truth is stranger than fiction," Alistair quipped back.

[Hemnon]

Betty shoulders her way through the crowd of reporters, conspicuously ignoring them as she heads out to find a bar and something to eat.

The closest bar with food-serving is called Guild Haven and is located down the main road, according to that main-road map showing the most worthwhile visit-spots for Guild Pilots.

With his squadron pin clearly visible on his flight jacket, Alistair paused a couple minutes at the dock for pictures. But as soon as he could, he left the media in Aztlatli's capable hands in search of scotch.

Plenty of pictures were taken, and many questions were asked, none were answered, seeing as you felt a bigger need to go get something to drink. Best place is the Guild Haven, the most popular Bar for Guild Pilots.
Otherwise you can always just go investigate the city for another bar if you wish to do that.

After checking to ensure that his jacket was perfect, and his pin clearly visible on it's lapel, James emerged from the Betty into the sunlight of Haiti, a perfect actor's smile plastered on his face. He moves at a casual pace, heading for the group of reporters, ready to give them a basic rundown of the fight on the way in and answer their questions, being eminently familiar with handling paparazzi.

The reporters are all swarming you with both picture-takings, questions in the millions, and the odd left-field questions that are more tabloid-oriented. One especially pretty Haitian-native looking Reporter girl seems rather eager to be in front and as close as possible with all the good questions.... Such as 'what is your name, Squadron, etc.' You know, the questions that actually shows she gives a damn what is asked and replied.

Spoiler: Not really spoilers, just a request for a roll

Show

I need a publicity roll for you to stay in the good graces of the media and not accidentally say something bad or contextually twistable.
it's 1d6+Stat+Skill. Which is 1d6+Spirit+Publicity. Difficulty is 6 (aka. Moderate).

[Binks]

James fields the questions like he's been handling them most of his life. Making liberal use of his charming smile he speaks of the great honor it is to be a member of the 103 Red Foxes', playing up their incredible skill and fame. Unmentioned, but clearly implied from his word choice, is the fact that he (and his fellow pilots in the squad) must be great since they were hand chosen for such a remarkable squadron.

[RandomLunatic]

Being more parched than picky, Alistair headed for the Guild Haven.

[Blackhawk748]

Betty heads into the Guild Haven and takes a seat at the bar ordering a Whiskey and whatever their lunch special is.