AU Event; Action - SOMEWHERE LATE AT NIGHT
[work has eased up! I'll get to tagging after I come back from visiting family!]
[also Bret if you think Ness would be partying like the cool peep in the middle of the night (read: have other plans), that's okay, I left that part ambiguous |D We could say he stuffed pillows under the bedsheets or something]
He said he could fly the damn aircraft. Yeah, he's fully aware he's never been behind the control panel of a dogfighter. And yes, he's still technically a rookie. Falco could see the doubts one their faces. They said he couldn't navigate his way around an asteroid field. Lacked the precision. He said he'd fly gladly fly through Meteo and back, and perform an triple loop before 'precisly' parking the ship on their asses.
He was quick to learn that it was that kind of persistence that pushed him forward in the food chain, and what convinced the higher ups to let him help traffic weapons to Sector Z. The details surrounding that affair were left in the dark, at least for Falco. All he knew is that certain space pirates were at the peak of preparing to defend their turf against the Cornerian army. It was a heated battle that the Hot Rodders were wisely having no further involvement with.
Sleep came quickly with that first real accomplishment easing his mind. There's not much to say about this routine, because at no point where that fine line where reality and dreamscape blurs is there supposed to be a shift in your plane of existence. It's a feeling that's hard to recognize until it settles in your bones for too long, when the sudden epiphany hits you and you realize something plain isn't right.
The bed was way too comfortable, for one. Not your standard hand me down mattress. Second of all, Falco was feeling a little more, well....naked than usual. Falco rubbed his face in sleepy stupor...
...then shot up like lightning, hands grasping at what wasn't there. Where his feathers and beak were supposed to be was replaced by a bare skin foreign to his own. Amidst the mass of curses and confusion, Falco recognized what had become of his body: he was human. He recognized the process. It was done to certain Lylatians leaving the Lylat system, normally under their damn consent.
Heart running several hundred miles per hour, he stood up and and quickly moved towards what he could make out as the door in the darkness of the room....until his feet tangled up on clothing laying on the floor, sending the bewildered pilot careening against a small drawer, nearly knocking it to the ground. His hand automatically caught the lamp and set it steady on the surface.
Light. Light would be good. It wasn't until he was feeling around for the light switch that he became aware of the other bed in the room. Falco instantly went still: he wasn't alone, and as far as he could tell, the other form was sleeping. Slowly moving his hand away from the lamp, he looked around searching for other options that wouldn't involve making a shitton of noise. He wasn't in his room or his own body, he could discern that much that much so far. A kidnapping? By deranged scientists?
He felt around the drawer, pulling it open and feeling around inside. Papers, pencils....nothing useful. He felt around the other one. More useless junk until....bingo. Hand met the familiar cold metal of a blaster. Pulling it out and giving it a cursory checkover to see if it was functional, Falco was at least armed now. It was better than nothing.
Nudging the clothing away from his bare feet this time (he noticed he was still in his same old attire from last night - a plain T-shirt and boxers. This wasn't the right time or place to get himself looking decent), Falco carefully walked towards the door and creaked the handle knob open. It was unlocked. He surveyed both directions into the dark hallway as far as his shoddy night vision would allow before discreetly stepping out and shutting the door behind him.
Hard part over with. The next step was going to be a pain in the ass.
Falco took a deep breath, keeping the only comfort he had in a prepared and fire position. He....wasn't all that ready for this.He wanted answer, and damn good ones too. Even if it meant having to beat them out of people, even his teammates if they had anything to do with this. Hell, especially his teammates.
He looked from his left to right in the thankfully empty hallways. Left? He was going with left. With that, he took off, letting his intuition guide to what hopefully would a way out.
[also Bret if you think Ness would be partying like the cool peep in the middle of the night (read: have other plans), that's okay, I left that part ambiguous |D We could say he stuffed pillows under the bedsheets or something]
He said he could fly the damn aircraft. Yeah, he's fully aware he's never been behind the control panel of a dogfighter. And yes, he's still technically a rookie. Falco could see the doubts one their faces. They said he couldn't navigate his way around an asteroid field. Lacked the precision. He said he'd fly gladly fly through Meteo and back, and perform an triple loop before 'precisly' parking the ship on their asses.
He was quick to learn that it was that kind of persistence that pushed him forward in the food chain, and what convinced the higher ups to let him help traffic weapons to Sector Z. The details surrounding that affair were left in the dark, at least for Falco. All he knew is that certain space pirates were at the peak of preparing to defend their turf against the Cornerian army. It was a heated battle that the Hot Rodders were wisely having no further involvement with.
Sleep came quickly with that first real accomplishment easing his mind. There's not much to say about this routine, because at no point where that fine line where reality and dreamscape blurs is there supposed to be a shift in your plane of existence. It's a feeling that's hard to recognize until it settles in your bones for too long, when the sudden epiphany hits you and you realize something plain isn't right.
The bed was way too comfortable, for one. Not your standard hand me down mattress. Second of all, Falco was feeling a little more, well....naked than usual. Falco rubbed his face in sleepy stupor...
...then shot up like lightning, hands grasping at what wasn't there. Where his feathers and beak were supposed to be was replaced by a bare skin foreign to his own. Amidst the mass of curses and confusion, Falco recognized what had become of his body: he was human. He recognized the process. It was done to certain Lylatians leaving the Lylat system, normally under their damn consent.
Heart running several hundred miles per hour, he stood up and and quickly moved towards what he could make out as the door in the darkness of the room....until his feet tangled up on clothing laying on the floor, sending the bewildered pilot careening against a small drawer, nearly knocking it to the ground. His hand automatically caught the lamp and set it steady on the surface.
Light. Light would be good. It wasn't until he was feeling around for the light switch that he became aware of the other bed in the room. Falco instantly went still: he wasn't alone, and as far as he could tell, the other form was sleeping. Slowly moving his hand away from the lamp, he looked around searching for other options that wouldn't involve making a shitton of noise. He wasn't in his room or his own body, he could discern that much that much so far. A kidnapping? By deranged scientists?
He felt around the drawer, pulling it open and feeling around inside. Papers, pencils....nothing useful. He felt around the other one. More useless junk until....bingo. Hand met the familiar cold metal of a blaster. Pulling it out and giving it a cursory checkover to see if it was functional, Falco was at least armed now. It was better than nothing.
Nudging the clothing away from his bare feet this time (he noticed he was still in his same old attire from last night - a plain T-shirt and boxers. This wasn't the right time or place to get himself looking decent), Falco carefully walked towards the door and creaked the handle knob open. It was unlocked. He surveyed both directions into the dark hallway as far as his shoddy night vision would allow before discreetly stepping out and shutting the door behind him.
Hard part over with. The next step was going to be a pain in the ass.
Falco took a deep breath, keeping the only comfort he had in a prepared and fire position. He....wasn't all that ready for this.He wanted answer, and damn good ones too. Even if it meant having to beat them out of people, even his teammates if they had anything to do with this. Hell, especially his teammates.
He looked from his left to right in the thankfully empty hallways. Left? He was going with left. With that, he took off, letting his intuition guide to what hopefully would a way out.