Warning!
Who: Dumont
When: Concurrent with Abraxas's arrival
Where: Edge of the city, moving as necessary
What: So apparently something got past the virus checks...
Warnings: None expected.
High above the Outlands, Dumont flinched away from another very solid-looking cloud, and jerked the controls back into alignment.
He should never, never have let Yori Three convince him this was a good idea. It was a terrible idea. If ideas were ranked by sheer absurdity, this one deserved a place way at the top.
Dumont clenched his hands on the controls of Yori Three's treasured lightjet and worked hard on not screaming.
The Outlands whipped by below him at indecent speed, Tron City growing larger and brighter on the horizon. Almost there.
He was never flying himself again, no matter how much faster it was than the cargo transport. The Yoris and everyone else could just take their own urgent messages. Dumont nodded decisively, and yelped as the jet's nose dipped.
Assuming he made it to the city without derezzing himself.
It was a short eternity of terror later before he managed to land the lightjet on an empty street, as far in as he dared go--which wasn't very. Dumont walked swiftly to the nearest communication screen and keyed it to public.
"System security?" Hopefully that would get the news to Trons, as many as possible. He scowled unhappily into the screen. "I've come with a warning from the Portal. There's a high probability of viral activity in the Outlands."
[ooc: I really hope this is okay? This is yorisearching's mun, because Yori's busy being angsty elsewhere.]
When: Concurrent with Abraxas's arrival
Where: Edge of the city, moving as necessary
What: So apparently something got past the virus checks...
Warnings: None expected.
High above the Outlands, Dumont flinched away from another very solid-looking cloud, and jerked the controls back into alignment.
He should never, never have let Yori Three convince him this was a good idea. It was a terrible idea. If ideas were ranked by sheer absurdity, this one deserved a place way at the top.
Dumont clenched his hands on the controls of Yori Three's treasured lightjet and worked hard on not screaming.
The Outlands whipped by below him at indecent speed, Tron City growing larger and brighter on the horizon. Almost there.
He was never flying himself again, no matter how much faster it was than the cargo transport. The Yoris and everyone else could just take their own urgent messages. Dumont nodded decisively, and yelped as the jet's nose dipped.
Assuming he made it to the city without derezzing himself.
It was a short eternity of terror later before he managed to land the lightjet on an empty street, as far in as he dared go--which wasn't very. Dumont walked swiftly to the nearest communication screen and keyed it to public.
"System security?" Hopefully that would get the news to Trons, as many as possible. He scowled unhappily into the screen. "I've come with a warning from the Portal. There's a high probability of viral activity in the Outlands."
[ooc: I really hope this is okay? This is yorisearching's mun, because Yori's busy being angsty elsewhere.]