(no subject)
The announcer's accented Spanish caught Adam just as he was about to nod off in his chair. Time to board. It repeated in English as he gingerly shouldered his backpack and rose to get in line with his crowd of fellow travelers.
Adam suppressed a yawn.
The flight from Port Stanley, Falkland Islands, to Santiago, Chile, had been relatively short compared to this upcoming part of his journey, but he was already tired and eager to see the familiar chaos of JFK and good old New York City.
In spite of some concerns - coming in from all quarters - Adam was making the journey back on his own. LeNoir simply didn't have the man-power to provide their youngest intern with an escort, and it had been several months since the misunderstanding with Vespugia had, at least in theory, been cleared up.
Esteban's killer would probably never see justice, but Adam probably didn't have to be worried about being kidnapped or shot at anymore, either. Hours of grueling debriefing and diplomatic tiptoeing had to be worth something.
Adam shivered as he filed up the ramp. Late spring in the States was late autumn here, although it would never rival Antarctica for cold. He nodded politely to the flight attendant and was stepping across the metal threshold onto the plane when-
-without warning or preamble-
-he was suddenly and violently drenched in a furious downpour that had no place aboard a plane. Adam winced, conditioned over the past few months to an environment where being wet could have lethal consequences. But he wasn't going to freeze to death. He might just vaporize, instead. Just as abruptly (just as inexplicably), he was made aware of the incredible heat. Adam felt his body break out all over in sweat, his clothes sticky and sticking to his skin, even without the plastering efforts of the rain.
"Oh. God. What?" he managed to spit out between mouthfuls of water, casting around for some familiar landmark, some sign of the airport or the plane he had been about to board. It was so dark.
The bomb, he thought dazedly before reason reasserted itself. Unfortunately, once it arrived, reason thought nuclear Armageddon was a perfectly good explanation for the abruptness of the change. The other option was moderately less horrifying and involved being very, very wrong about the authorities in Vespugia being through with him.
It didn't look like any part of the country he recognised. Not that he'd seen much of Vespugia. Not that he could see through the darkness of it's-suddenly-night or the curtain of rainwater. The heat at least was familiar, if seasonally inappropriate and not exactly comforting. He didn't miss the bugs.
There was another roar, faint and rhythmic, somewhere behind the mad thunder of raindrops exploding against the earth. It took Adam a while to place it, and even longer to spot the source. Waves. A deeper blackness amidst black, vast and full of motion.
Adam found the ocean.
[[ Appearing by the beach, during a storm, in the middle of the night. OOC was here in case you want it. ]]
Adam suppressed a yawn.
The flight from Port Stanley, Falkland Islands, to Santiago, Chile, had been relatively short compared to this upcoming part of his journey, but he was already tired and eager to see the familiar chaos of JFK and good old New York City.
In spite of some concerns - coming in from all quarters - Adam was making the journey back on his own. LeNoir simply didn't have the man-power to provide their youngest intern with an escort, and it had been several months since the misunderstanding with Vespugia had, at least in theory, been cleared up.
Esteban's killer would probably never see justice, but Adam probably didn't have to be worried about being kidnapped or shot at anymore, either. Hours of grueling debriefing and diplomatic tiptoeing had to be worth something.
Adam shivered as he filed up the ramp. Late spring in the States was late autumn here, although it would never rival Antarctica for cold. He nodded politely to the flight attendant and was stepping across the metal threshold onto the plane when-
-without warning or preamble-
-he was suddenly and violently drenched in a furious downpour that had no place aboard a plane. Adam winced, conditioned over the past few months to an environment where being wet could have lethal consequences. But he wasn't going to freeze to death. He might just vaporize, instead. Just as abruptly (just as inexplicably), he was made aware of the incredible heat. Adam felt his body break out all over in sweat, his clothes sticky and sticking to his skin, even without the plastering efforts of the rain.
"Oh. God. What?" he managed to spit out between mouthfuls of water, casting around for some familiar landmark, some sign of the airport or the plane he had been about to board. It was so dark.
The bomb, he thought dazedly before reason reasserted itself. Unfortunately, once it arrived, reason thought nuclear Armageddon was a perfectly good explanation for the abruptness of the change. The other option was moderately less horrifying and involved being very, very wrong about the authorities in Vespugia being through with him.
It didn't look like any part of the country he recognised. Not that he'd seen much of Vespugia. Not that he could see through the darkness of it's-suddenly-night or the curtain of rainwater. The heat at least was familiar, if seasonally inappropriate and not exactly comforting. He didn't miss the bugs.
There was another roar, faint and rhythmic, somewhere behind the mad thunder of raindrops exploding against the earth. It took Adam a while to place it, and even longer to spot the source. Waves. A deeper blackness amidst black, vast and full of motion.
Adam found the ocean.
[[ Appearing by the beach, during a storm, in the middle of the night. OOC was here in case you want it. ]]