(Untitled)

[wrecking_bell]

[OOF: Steve Bell discovered a pan-dimensional bar, met a Jedi and his sister from ten years ago, and got up close and personal with Chainsaw the fandom bicycle. Aaand warning for explicit sexual content in this post's Chainsaw thread. Raise your hand if you're surprised.]No, for the record: Steve is not quite over the Jedi thing. And he can't

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[hundred_twelfth]

Snicker.

"You betcha."

She's in her best set of robes, and by best we mean most durable; the weight of her lightwhip handle dangles reassuringly from her belt

[wrecking_bell]

"Good luck," says Steve wholeheartedly.

He needs to go through the door at some point too. However, he doesn't have a landspeeder: his only means of escape (should someone spot the rather obvious metal arm and mark him down as a posthuman) is into the house, which won't do him or the others a scrap of good if someone thinks to search it. He hangs indecisively about the exit like a child trying to cheat at Bulldog.

Maybe now?

No, there's someone peering out of a tent, probably wondering what the noise of the speeder was. Best to wait.

[nowait_letme]

Back in the bar's garage, from the general direction of the stairs, somebody's whistling.

[wrecking_bell]

Okay, so the head has been withdrawn and he's ready to--

--oh good goddamn, now there's someone walking down the street from the other end. Can't the world just go away for enough seconds for him to dart out and back in again?

[hundred_twelfth]

So.

Val bet her 'a drink or two' (gotta love imprecisely defined stakes) that she'd get stopped within ten minutes of hitting the street.

Satya is pretty much ready to concede that drink, but it's been at least two minutes so far and all she's seen in the way of civilisation has been a kriff of a lot of tents.

When are things going to get interesting?

[wrecking_bell]

Give it another thirty seconds.

The noise of the speeder is nothing if not conspicuous; a couple of patrolling policemen heard it setting off, and it takes only a crackling radio message to have several more forming a hurried human roadblock across the street in front of her. More men and women in uniform hurry to cover the side-streets, though they need hardly bother what with all the makeshift little homes in the way. All of them are armed with an assortment of rifles, pistols and bludgeons.

Feel special, Satya: they don't pull out these stops for just anyone. But that's definitely no ordinary vehicle, and it's general knowledge by now that one or more of the terrorists must be a hypercognitive posthuman. Have fun explaining to them that it isn't you.

"Dismount your vehicle!"

[hundred_twelfth]

What was the Earth phrase... ah, yes...

Cheerfully: "Go fuck yourself!"

She disengages a latch, cranks a dial, punches a button-- and takes off into the air with a noise like a concrete elephant being sick into a garbage disposal unit.

When you're going to find a flying woman, you don't bring a landbound vehicle. That's just plain common sense.

[wrecking_bell]

Okay, that's it. SATYA, YOU GET SHOT AT.

By lots of people. All at the same time. Many with some manner of decent long-range weapon. Most with pretty good aim.

Time to start dodging.