2013.08.05 - Mousetrap, Part 2

It's been about two hours. With plans already made and a private jet already lined up, a lot can happen in two hours. When Domino starts to come to, with an awful headache to boot, she can tell that they've transitioned to a plane. The whine of the engines, the pitch of incline, they can't be too far away from the city. With the positioning of the sun she's estimating the time between five and six in the morning. The jet isn't small, a well furnished passenger area connected to a large cargo area that could easily handle a small fleet of expensive sports cars if the owner (probably Mister Cheng) fancied it.

The shadows cast across the interior tells her which direction they're heading in. Altocumulus clouds pepper the skies a short way beneath the wings, giving her a rough estimate of their current altitude. Combining the timing, estimated size and weight of a four-engined jet, and angle of climb, she's got a general idea of where she is upon the planet.

It's not like this is the first flight she's taken to Japan out of New York City.

It's going to be a long flight. While she's got an idea of what to do while in Japan it needs to happen on her terms. If these people are along for the ride then her plan isn't likely to work.

Which means she needs to get off of this plane.

When everything is exhausted, and there really isn't much else to go on, what does one do?

Kurt sits in the attic at the Majestic, perching on a rafter in the darkness. The shadows are a warm blanket, enveloping him, finding his comfort there. His smart phone is in his three-fingered hand, and he stares at it, pondering, indecisive. It's something the blue elf hadn't yet done; last resort.

Kurt crosses himself, offering up an 'Our Father' before taking a deep breath. Some would say not to, in case the phone was hidden as a last resort and that the incoming call puts her in more danger? Or what if she simply doesn't want to be bothered? Or..

Or..?

Riiiiiiing..

Kurt's pulled up the contact list, found his particular entry for her, and hit the 'dial' button on the flat pad. Now.. he sets the phone on 'speaker', placing it on the beam beside him. It's given a long, baleful stare as he wills his call to be answered. Prays that it will.. and not just go to voice mail.

Cell phones should always be turned off while airborne. It's the law! Except when the owner of the phone happened to get knocked unconscious and dragged aboard before she had a chance to turn her phone off.

And maybe the guy that knocked her out took it and didn't think to power it off before take-off.

And maybe that very phone now happens to be vibrating with an incoming call while riding on the inside pocket of that particular man's suit jacket.

Domino knows that sound. While Mister Cheng is busy putting the pieces together she turns enough to look over at the guy, plainly asking "If you're not going to answer that, can I?"

She's still got thirteen-odd hours left to twiddle her thumbs in. Right now she'd be willing to strike up a meaningful conversation with a wrong number.

Remarkably, as luck would have it, the phone hadn't been turned off! For whatever reason, be it that they didn't want to be bothered to work out the passkey to get into the phone, or it was simply one of so many things pulled from the albino, it hadn't been given much thought.

Buzzzz

The vibrating phone is pulled from Cheng's pocket slowly and deliberately, and he stares at it. As he does, it ceases it's vibrating. Palming it, there's a smirk that crosses his face, and holds up the screen for Domino to see. "Guess it wasn't important enough." No one will miss her.

Kurt does his gargoyle perch upon the beams, his toes curling around the course, hewn wood, glowing golden eyes staring at the phone beside him. It rang through, which means it has charge. And it's turned on. If she was ignoring him and annoyed, she'd have perhaps hit 'decline', giving him the 'screw you, don't want to talk!' message. Instead, it rang long enough.. and she's never far from her phone!

Or maybe he's simply over analyzing things?

Kurt takes a deep breath, and pushes the 'redial' part on the pad with a thick finger, adding another 'Our Father' in the hopes that perhaps another intercessionary prayer might help things along?

Buuuuzzzz...

Mister Cheng stares at the phone as it goes live in his hand again, and he looks at the screen before his even tones sound a hint of dangerous warning, and he tosses it to her. "Tell them you will be home in a month. A new contract has been signed." Sealed.. and he's delivering.

"Damned telemarketers," Dom replies with an idle smirk before reclining her seat. Short of that plan, all she has left is to try and sleep. It's been a long stretch for her and one doesn't get a whole lot of rest while drugged or knocked out. Real, proper, actual sleep would go a long way for her.

Then the phone buzzes again. Who could possibly be so anxious to get hold of her? Either it's Deadpool looking to ask her out (or telling her about his triumphant pancake statue of the month,) or it's going to be--

Now there's a phone on her lap. With Kurt's number showing up on the screen. A slow glance is returned to Cheng before she cautiously unlocks the screen and lets the call go through.

Whatever Kurt has to say isn't going to be more important than what she's about to tell him. Not now.

"Hey. Yeah, uh..hold on here, the number for Nathan Williams? Think I've got that handy. You writing this down?" she asks while pale blue eyes silently drift back over to the window nearby. There isn't a lot to see, but if she were to take an educated guess...

"Yeah, try ..404-4881. I'd say try around two-twenty?"

It's a code. One which utilizes a system which she's never informed Kurt about in the past. Nathan Williams, NorthWest. 404, the common internet error code for something not being found. 4881, rough global coordinates. Two-twenty, 22,000 feet.

Odds of Kurt figuring out what any of that means: 1 in 313,764.

She can help those odds fall a little closer within his favor. "Okay, hope that helps. I've gotta go dark for a while, FAA regulations and all."

Bam. She's on a plane.

Her expression remains perfectly neutral as she ends the call, setting the phone on the seat beside her rather than tossing it back to Cheng.

(Let's see how this one plays out.)

The moment.. the absolute moment that she answers the phone, Kurt picks his up and holds it in his hands, the screen set before him as he talks into it. He sounds concerned, agitated..

"Leibling.. wo ist du.." but before he can get anything else out in rapidfire German, he's stopped in his proverbial tracks.

Kurt is met with ''Yeah.. uh.. hold on here'', and he fully expects an explanation. It's not truly forthcoming, however, and he must look a sight, his head quirking like a cat as he tries to work out exactly what in the hell she's talking about!

Writing this down?

"Um.. ja.. give me.." Dammit.. and with tail, Kurt begins to scrawl in the ash of the ceiling every word that comes. "Nathan Williams.. 404.." and blinking glowing, golden eyes, he's certainly confused. "FAA regulations..?"

"Liebling, don't hang up.. tell me.. are you--"

Click..

Buzzzz..

Kurt looks up at the scrawl from his tail in the darkened wood, and he stares at it for a long, long moment. Minutes pass before the area in which he was so recently occupying fills with the stench of brimstone and sulfur, and the blue, fuzzy elf is no more.

BAMF!

Mister Cheng sits down on a seat that is tucked against the wall of the cabin, watching Domino intently during the course of the phone conversation. Almond eyes narrow, and he rises from his spot, taking a step forward to grab the phone from her hand. He's gifted (or she is?) with a bout of turbulence, and he falls forward, setting him off balance for a second. Gaining his footing (sea legs, he doesn't have!), he makes a swipe for the phone. "Who was that?"

(Any idea how badly this is going to suck if any part of your luck or timing is off, Domino? Yeah, 'epic-fail' comes to mind. Some day they'll invent a word that accurately sums up the level of fail which you're about to achieve if this misses.)

The coordinates and altitude are far from exact. There's lots of air-borne traffic. There's a staggering amount of distance for Kurt to cover. But, one thing that she's learned a long time ago?

Have a little faith.

She makes no motion to block Cheng from swiping her phone off of the seat, relaxed nice and leisurely in her reclined seat with her arms sprawled out upon the generously padded rests.

"I ordered a pizza."

-Bamf!-

There, right outside of the albino's window, is the wing of a plane. With a teleporting mutant stuck to the curved aluminum panels.

Her head rolls back to face Mister Cheng, her expression almost sleepy in nature but still absolutely filled with amusement and dark malice alike. I have something you don't haaave...

"Hope you like Domino's."

It's a mission given now. Kurt's gone in a heartbeat from New York.. and with each *bamf*, he's travelling the country, taking each jump by the sight of the distance. Where possible even, looking up, the elf catches rides here and there off of single-engine aircraft, giving him an even better view of the countryside.

New York. Pennsylvania. Ohio..

It may not seem like a long time passes up in the aircraft as it flies towards its destination in Japan, but to Kurt, it seems like forever. The further he gets, the more he's searching the skies, looking up rather than looking below.

Look momma, what is that?!

Now, Kurt moves solely from aircraft to aircraft, using his hands and feet, his boots discarded, to keep hold of the aircraft fuselages, his tail flowing out behind him.. and the wind causing his cheeks to puff, his fangs to bare, glistening. He's careful, however, not to get too high. Not until..

BAMF!

After what seems an eternity to the teleporter, his breath is pulled from his chest as he lights upon the aircraft.. and he shivers, the fur blowing back, his tail dangling. He's holding on, however.. and as he looks into the window, those glowing, featureless yellow eyes spy his quarry. Glancing around, the smile doesn't look pretty.. and those fangs come out for real. His tail whips up, and with a growl, there's a final BAMF! as the now determined looking blue, fuzzy mutant teleports into the warm, climate controlled cabin, but his back is to Domino..

Mister Cheng's balance in the air is less than admirable, which is remarkable, given that he's something of an accomplished fighter. (Of course he is!) But the years of having muscle doing things for him means that he's sorely out of practice. Once he's got hold of the phone, he falls backwards and back into his seat, making a half-hearted attempt at trying to break into the phone. As if he'd be able to get into the albino merc's head as to what would be the likely key combination?

Throwing the phone away, Cheng stares at Domino, trying to figure the woman out. What eventually comes is, "You're crazy. You'll give them a run for their money in Japan before they kill you." But by then, he'll have won the war, so to speak.

Cheng settles back, and even crosses a leg, oblivious to the goings on outside. It's when the blue demon(!) suddenly appears in the cabin with him..

Tail!

Fangs?!

Surprise causes the mob boss to hesitate, and finally, he calls out a warning, a call to arms, and he reaches into his own pocket to draw a gun.

Probably not the best idea..

The moment Kurt sees a gun reached for, the elf pushes himself up with a hoarse growl, flips up, pushes off the ceiling, and lands directly on top of Cheng.. ready to beat the man to a pulp.

One is never out-gunned with something belt-fed.

One is never out-maneuvered with teleporting allies.

Domino is one crazy lucky bitch.

The myriad of wounds her body had recently suffered are quick to remind her that she's not running as well as she wants to be. With the reminder received she ignores it and pushes forward anyway, it also wouldn't be the first time that wounds were re-opened because she ''Doesn't. Sit. Still.''

Blue Demon on Cheng. Dom's out of her seat and rushing into a forward roll down the aisle, twisting the gun out of Cheng's hand and coming up into a crouch with the smaller pistol held at the end of her arm. Live fire within a pressurized aircraft is none too kind to the ears. Her bullets are even less kind to the nearby guards that get taken out in the resulting fire, painting the neutral cream colors of the passenger area with bright crimson splotches.

An errant pull of another trigger punches a tiny marker-sized hole through one of the windows, causing a rapid shift in pressure that's capable of popping ears without ripping the plane apart. It's noisy, and a little windy, though the people on the inside have bigger things to worry about. Revenge comes to them all in black, white, and blue.

"Nice catch, Bamfus!" she yells out while snagging her fallen phone off of the floor. He can teleport, he'll be okay. She still needs to do something about the plane! Cheng can play nicely with her demon, she's got a jet to commandeer.

Landing on top of Cheng certainly does get a yell out of the usually inscrutible Chinese mobster. He's never been attacked in quite such a manner, and the gun that had been in his hand is no longer, courtesy of Domino.

Kurt's on top of the man now, and his feet dig into shoulders, and rolling forward, the acrobatic demon stands on his hands, lifting the Chinese man with his feet, and pushes him.. and hard against the wall of the aircraft. The final flip from hands back to feet in that back-flip, Kurt's on his second flying somersault to land upon the man again..

The hiss of air as the cabin begins to depressurize gains yellow-eyed attention, and Kurt actually pauses for a second, "We've got a leak!" though, "You're not off the hook, liebchen!" Just in case...

"Don't worry about the leak, we'll be fine!" Domino yells back while sprinting down the walkway. (Get inside, kill the pilots, drop altitude--)

The chatter of an automatic sounds out from the back of the plane, tearing fist-sized chunks of padding out of the seats in a wild, barely aimed spray that further damages the windows and walls. They may have taken her gear but they did leave her armor, a cluster of loosed shots rattling against the back of her shoulder as the bits of cushioning start to whip around in the unnatural wind. The merc twists about with a grunt and drops to the floor, sweeping an arm around to take another shot in warning then clawing her way toward the cockpit once more.

"Got time for a little R&R back there, Blue? I'm about out!"

(And for the love of all that is holy, get down and take cover, you fool!)

Scraps of paper get thrown about as if caught up in a coming tornado, her short black hair becoming an even bigger mess as she snaps off two more shots then rushes the last few feet toward the controls.

"Hey! Sweet plane."

BAM-BAM!

"Mind if I borrow it?"

One dead pilot hits the floor. One battered mercenary drops behind the controls, sitting aside a brilliant spray of gore pasted across the window and inner hull. A few adjustments to controls then a few large adjustments to their flight pattern, engines spooling up as the airliner starts to bank.

Kurt dodges the bullets by clinging to the ceiling of the aircraft, the suckers on hands and feet straining, what with the work that he's done grabbing on to external fuselages in his runs at 10k, 20k feet, running at 150 mph. His tail tuckes in as the bits of interior fuselage flakes off the walls, the little holes in the aircraft aiding in the slow decompression of the aircraft.

"Don't shoot up the airplane. I'm taking it in trade!" comes with a rather heavy, unhappy sounding German accent.

His blue, fuzzy face turns towards the cockpit even as he catches the sound of more gunfire. He runs along the ceiling on all fours, his tail taking a grab at a hand that rises to take aim at.. who the hell knows.. and yanks the man's arm out of its socket.

"If they bleed on the electronics.."

Beat.

"Oh.. mein Gott.."

It's a final leap that brings the elf fully into the cockpit, and finding one more lives, whips his tail out to take hold of Domino in order to lift her out of the seat and get the hell out of Dodge.

"Let's go. I don't want an aircraft."

Don't shoot up the airplane!

Domino levels the stolen pistol out toward the floor, front and center before everyone with their eyes in her direction while she squeezes the trigger in a purely deliberate manner.

BAM!

"Whoops!"

A quick glance back shows that the gun's run empty, flicking it out of her hand with a frown. (So much for that imported piece of junk.)

The jet pitches forward as she drops altitude, sweeping around in a large banked turn to take them way off of their intended course. Anyone left standing isn't going to have an easy time of it.

(If they bleed on the electronics I won't give a shit, I'll be out of here.)

And there's Kurt. Again..with the 'Mein Gott'ing. "This is so not the time to have a conscience, 'Crawler!" she growls with an outward snap of fingers from around the yoke. "Save it for someone that cares!"

Then there's the tail. He's trying to help, really he is. Yet, she's grinding her teeth. "Look, Blue. You wanted to know where I was, here I am. Thanks for the distraction but I've got this!"

Whoops?!

Whoops?!

Was ist das.. 'whoops'?

Kurt's holding on, and his tail whips clear again, and his lips draw back from his fangs at her words, and he flips over and lands on the floor behind the seats. He grabs the dead body that is no longer pouring blood through his many and varied holes as his heart has completely stopped beating, and pulls it out of the pilot's chair.

"Oh.. ho.. ja. Here you are. You had just decided that you would tell me where you were for conversation? I think I heard an unspoken, 'If you could find your way to come, I would be most appreciated..'"

Kurt takes the still-living co-pilot and bamfs him out and into the small closet that stands for a bathroom, and in the next breath, he's back.

"Thanks for the distraction but you've got this? You don't look like anything's been 'got'..!"

Now, Kurt apparently isn't thinking too clearly, as the pilot is dead, he's relieved the co- from his duty.. and now, he wraps his tail around Domino's wrist and *bamf*, the pair are back in the back.

Cheng is a bloody mess. He's alive, certainly, and he's crawling.. somewhere, but Kurt's not caring. Those glowing yellow eyes are on the mercenary, even as he leaps into the air to flip backwards on the ceiling in one, two, three rapid backflips, only to land on yet another guard.. heavily, and he puts the man into a decided sleeperhold.

"You could have used, 'Oh gosh your shoe is untied' if you wanted a 'distraction'!"

Huh. The co-pilot was still alive? It's not like Domino to miss. Damn turbulence.

"Look a little harder! Perfectly under control. This is what I do, in case you've forgotten. Now lighten up a little, I'm busy trying to--"

-BAMF!-

"--Why am I not at the controls?" Grr. Change of plans, again! Kurt's taking out another guard, giving Dom all the time she needs to neatly pluck the Uzi submachine gun from his slackening fingers. "Christ, who still uses these things?"

Kurt's next question gets another half-assed response snapped off, "What fun is that?"

It's interrupted by more automatic chatter, this time from her pull of the trigger.

"I had such a great time blowing up the marina that I figured you might wanna get in on this one! Now that no one's flying the fucking plane I'd say we'll get there in about three minutes and thirty-two seconds, might wanna pick your seat now!"

Rather than run for the cockpit she starts to run toward the tail end of the plane. There's more than one way to cancel a flight!

"Controls? You couldn't fly this plane.."

It's meant to be the beginning of an insult. Of course she can fly. Kurt got her a gunship, after all. What good is a helo if one can't fly it?

"You.. what?!" Now, Kurt's voice rises even as he leaps back onto the ceiling to begin racing across the top, and he hangs upside down, his tones sounding near incensed. "You were the one to blow up the marina? My boat? But.. but.. I.. It was your boat too! Und.. you blew it up?" Now, the elf is reduced to German as he sputters, "They'll never pay out the insurance," comes rapidly in harsh tones. "How could you?!"

Oh ye of little faith?

The aircraft isn't on autopilot, and some of the turbulence hit causes some shaking of the aircraft even as the interior cabin gets colder.. and colder.

What seat?

Even as the elf yells, Cheng is on the move again, slowly but surely.. and the door slams shut behind him, and the pathetic attempt at a lock sounds.

Only scant seconds pass before the nose drops way down, causing the elf to whip his tail out in order to find some sort of balance. "Zum Teufel!"

"What, because I'm a girl?" Domino challenges back. "Of course I could fly this piece of shit!"

Time isn't given. She's not in a very generous mood at the moment.

"Yeah, long story," she starts in then pauses as there's a fuzzy blue guy stuck overhead. With papers and insulation whipping about she tries to cut the argument off at the head. "Oh for fuck's sake! Let's worry about that later, huh? Crashing plane, impending death, etcetera!"

The slamming of a door quickly earns her attention. In another instant she's stumbling with a "Whoa--!" and making a mad grab for the nearest seat. Bodies, discarded weapons, shell casings, briefcases and laptops start to slide in the other direction. Not far away is a black bag that rolls from one side of the interior to the other. It's about the right size for the weapons they took off of her some time ago.

(Let's hope that is what I think it is.)

With the piercing fiery orange glow of the morning sun cutting through the windows she claws her way across the seats, stumbling down the aisle until she can swipe the fallen bag and sling it over a shoulder. There's an emergency exit not far away with a few spare chutes at hand. Another rattling burst of Uzi fire is provided for cover and she nabs one of the chutes, twists the emergency door release, and--

BOOM!

Pressure is gone. The door is gone.

Domino is gone.

"Because you are always doing a million things at once, und never concentrating on one verdammt thing!" Kurt shoots back, his tones still angry, seething. Her flippant remarks regarding the boat, the marina.. and consequently his particular feelings on the matter only feed into it all now- including the fact that she's of the distinct opinion that his aid isn't -needed-?

Kurt watches as Domino claws her way forward, and those yellow eyes flicker towards where he believes she's headed. He could be a jerk and bamf it out of her grasp, or he could take out one of those goons that is rapidly trying to undo his seatbelt.. silly man.

Turbulence ahead!

Domino's departure is met with disbelief, and he stares.. gapes, and where she'd once been- never mind the whipping wind as it tries to tear all around the open door away from their mountins and out into the cold, bracing air.

Whether or not she can hear him, Kurt is calling out behind her, "Noo!!!"

The moment Domino is out the door, the emergency lights obviously begin to buzz red in the cockpit. The aircraft banks hard to the left, the nose decidedly facing down. But this time? It feels as if there's reason for it.

Ramming speed! How to pluck a diver from the air?

Suck her through the turbines!

(Oh, fuck.)

Modern plane designs are built with some level of safety involved. While skydiving out of a jetliner like this is not common practice, it should be, at the very least, possible.

Cheng also isn't flying it the way it's meant to be flown.

Times like this demand action. Very fast, very reckless action. No time to think about what's happening or how to react to it, only time for instinct and the driving power of probability manipulation.

The Uzi gets flung out of Dom's hand.

Into the nearest turbine.

There's a thunderous explosion as one of the four engines shreds itself to pieces, going up in a brilliant fireball of compressed fuel igniting in a flash.

The concussion bats the mercenary away like an irritating fly. Close. Very close. Close enough for her face to take a brand new gash from the twisted aluminum shrapnel. Close enough for her hair to get singed in the fireball. Without her armor things would have been incredibly worse.

In another flash of time she's flying behind the jet and past a thick cloud of hot, noxious fumes, having formed into a tight black ball until the worst of it passes her by. From there it's a complete freefall, watering eyes going wide at the burning hulk that's now diving toward the ground.

(Kurt can get out of that, right..? Let's go with 'yes.')

The bag full of gear gets caught up within Dom's legs as she wriggles about against the onslaught of wind to get the chute into place, yanking on the cord at a higher than normal altitude simply to assure herself that it's going to work when she pulls the cord.

"Sonuva bitch!"

Kurt very much is thinking exactly the very same thing inside the aircraft at that very moment. He's now in something of a fight with the goon that had discovered that perhaps leaving his safety belt on might have been the better way to go. At the bucking of the plane, the goon finds himself off his feet again, and part of it is aided by a blue, fuzzy, very pissed off demon-looking mutant. Things are whipping around, pulled off their moorings, and slamming into others, and Kurt is getting hit.. cuts, bruises.. gashes that begin to seep blood.

It just doesn't matter.

He's done.

Angry to the point of seeing red, even through those yellow eyes (does that mean he sees orange?), Kurt lets out an infernal sounding howl before he *bamfs* into the cockpit even as the aircraft begins to lose altitude 'for real'. The engines are on fire, and the fuselage is losing hunks of it every foot that it plummets out of the sky.

But this man? He's the one, isn't he? Started the entire fucking mess, and when the small compartment fills with brimstone, Cheng realizes that he's not alone.

Doors do NOT keep this blue furred demon out. Reaching over, Kurt completely ignores the other bruised, battered bloody man, and pulls up on the 'stick', as it where, and the aircraft rattles and growns as more parts are torn off. Buzzers, alarms are ringing all through, but Kurt is deaf to it all.

Another yell comes, a howl, and in the next second, another bamf! comes, and the elf is outside of the stricken aircraft, and he, too, is falling, and there isn't an immediate action to save himself.

Even in bamfing? Physics works..

It's another bamf! that comes, and all of a sudden, Kurt is right on top of the albino merc.. and in the next heartbeat, the pair are back on the aircraft, falling heavily to the floor, easily winding him. (Damnable physics!)

"You left me! I couldn't believe that you left me!" is snarled.

Kurt paces, even as the aircraft shudders and shakes.. and he kicks the door down that Cheng had so vainly attempted to lock.

"Not even a 'good luck'?!"

"Well, you're out of the plane. So, there's that."

It looks like someone's actually trying to level out the jet. Probably Cheng, his options are a bit more limited. There's still a thick worm of smoke and debris in the air, a flaming airliner not far away, and Dom's clinging to her gear bag for dear life. What else is there to do?

She pulls out her phone and takes a picture of herself, complete with grin, one thumb held in the air, and the mortally wounded aircraft in the background.

Hey, when's she going to get another chance like this one? (Okay, probably in a couple of months.)

Then she's gone.

And back inside of the plane.

Dom hits the ground with a startled "Oof!" There's barely any time to figure out where the parachute disappeared to, left flipping around in the thin air without a body to keep it steady.

"The fuck?!" she yelps out while trying to push the mass of blue fur off of herself. "You're a fucking teleporter, you could have had a chute and been out the door in a hundredth of a second! Kurt, why are we back in the plane!"

There are, of course, some things that one comes to take for granted. One of these things is the ever forgiving nature of a typically gentle soul. Not the sort of creature that starts yelling and kicking locked doors in.

Still she pushes her luck. "If I knew you needed someone to hold your hand I wouldn't have bothered answering my phone!" she snaps back, struggling to shoulder that black bag once more while the plane rattles and lurches about around the two. No--make that three. Cheng's still alive.

With a cold glare Domino swings that pack around, moving to pull a weapon out from within...

If I knew you needed someone to hold your hand I wouldn't have bothered answering my phone!

Kurt stands almost straight up, his expression completely and totally incensed. "I didn't call your phone to ask for your help, liebling! I called because I was concerned that you were in a position that you couldn't get out of." Easily. It happens to the best, and the worst of them.

Barging now into the cockpit, Kurt leaps up and onto the back of the chair where the co-pilot had been, perching like a gargoyle, his tail whipping around to take the bloodied, bruised and gasping Mr. Cheng by the throat none too gently.

"We are back in the plane because I demand answers, that's why. This has something to do with China, doesn't it?" Those featureless yellow eyes are on Domino, his full attention there. He's asking her, all the while taking out a great deal of frustration and anger on the hapless (but oh, in no way innocent) Mr. Cheng.

The coil of his tail slides like a vise, strong as a cable, and constricts slowly. (Don't let the blue fur fool you!)

"Tell me."

Mister Cheng, for his part, raises his hands to pull on his throat before he starts to try to gain a hold to twist at the tail.

"Well you're doing a wonderful job of putting me into that kind of situation!" Domino snarls back as she's returned to this (barely) airborne deathtrap. Retrieving a sidearm from that pack isn't easy while the plane continues to shake all over creation but she manages to get hold of one of her ten millimeters, proof enough that she found just the right pack to grab on her way out the door. The first time.

At least Cheng isn't going to go anywhere for a while, not with that tail busy making his face turn exciting new colors.

It doesn't stop her from thumbing the hammer back, not that the ominous sound could be heard over the constant howling of wind around the gaping wounds within the jet's hide.

There's the question. 'Something to do with China.' Everything that Dom's been through, everything that she's been dragged through, none of it desired by her in any shape or form. Half-gloved fingers slowly tighten around the molded rubber grip of her pistol.

"There's nothing to tell, Kurt. Thanks for bringing me back so I can live up to my word, then we're going to drop the whole fucking thing."

To that she shifts her body a quarter turn, bringing the large black pistol up to take aim at Mister Cheng's head. The plane isn't going to hold still, but at least the target is stationary.

"Good!" is snarled with bared fangs. Those glowing eyes are backlit with something very much like infernal fire. People have been telling him.. let it out, let it come out to play. Kurt has now, and it's a rage that he hasn't felt in...

Many years.

The aircraft is indeed shaking, shuddering, and Cheng is having a decidedly difficult time in keeping it level. Read: Not at all. It's dipping and bucking in the turbulence, the engine fire having flared out simply because there is no fuel left. This is more of a gliding freefall rather than a controlled descent. Nothing controlled about it.

Kurt barks a laugh at Domino as she makes the attempt to dig into her bag; he's got balance, ability..

And no need for guns.

"You left the verdammt aircraft, so don't tell me that you're doing what you swore you would do. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here. You wouldn't even have dreamed of the chance." His words are almost spit in anger as he speaks them, his tail tightening. "You can't even hit him!" is taunted.

Those glowing featureless eyes watch the finger of the albino's hand as it settles into the guard to rest upon the trigger.

Kurt waits for what could seem an eternity to Cheng (as the man's life is passing before him at this point), but is hardly more than a couple of rapid heartbeats before-

BAMF!

Kurt doesn't have to go far, and he doesn't. He lands right behind Domino now, leaving .. a spraying, bloody mess in the pilot's seat. The heart beats, and the blood burbles out of the neck where the head used to be. That head?

There is a Chinese head currently held by the throat by a blue, furred, spade-tipped tail. In the next second, Kurt's tail whips back and heaves the head towards the albino, the expression upon the disembodied head something of surprise. Eyes open.. but now, awareness has fled.

"Too slow!"

"I was going to handle the matter with a little more finesse, but since you seem so anxious to watch me burn then I'll damned well do it myself!" Domino suddenly yells back, abandoning her hold upon a seat back and gripping her pistol in both palms. One perfect moment of balance, of clarity.

Of her own fueled rage.

BLAMBLAM!

(The fuck..?)

The mercenary spins about, one hand sweeping wide, one tucked closer with the pistol ready to come about. She very nearly drills a severed head with a hollowpoint bullet. Instead her left arm reflexively catches the missing portion of Mister Cheng out of reflex alone, quickly letting it drop to the floor after dripping gore all over her tattered armor.

Domino's seen Kurt before. She's seen severed heads before.

She's never seen the two of them together before.

(Jesus, he really just did that...)

This conflict has officially stepped into a whole new level. On the inside she's completely stunned. This is not how things are supposed to work with Kurt!

On the outside she refuses to seize up. Without breaking eye contact with the fellow mutant her right hand drifts out and, sure enough, squeezes a shot off right into that disembodied head. The bag full of her gear is tossed aside into a vacant seat, the merc claiming a firm stance as she rolls out the muscles within her shoulders and neck.

"Alright. You want a go at this, little man?"

She's sparred with him before. She's familiar with his moves. One compensated pistol spins about a crooked index finger then snaps up into her palm, raised, fired in a flicker of motion.

Kurt's going to teleport before she pulls the trigger.

Before the bullet can strike the back of the plane she's twisting about once more, aiming to drive her elbow straight into the fuzzy blue head that she's expecting to materialize directly behind her.

(Too slow my ass.)

"Finesse?" Again, the scathing, mocking laugh exits the elf as the bullets put neat, spidering holes in the windscreen. "Ah.. I see..."

Kurt is behind the door, and there's a moment when he gives serious consideration to locking her in the cockpit with the dead bodies, the latest one's blood slowing in its oozing as the heart simply has no more blood to pump, nor does it receive messages to do so from the now lacking head.

The game of 'catch' is played, and it is reflex that it's caught, the blood and gore now dripping to the floor at the mercenary's feet, pooling. Soon enough, it'll be emptied too.

While Kurt may not be able to see any shock and surprise because it's not registering upon her face doesn't mean that he doesn't feel as if he's completely surprised her. And at this moment, he simply couldn't care less.

The bullet that is fired into the head simply is given insult to injury. The smile slides up, his fangs showing completely, "Did that feel better? Slowpoke?"

Her own goading brings a snarl out of the blue demon mutant. Little man?! Really?

"I'll show you little man.." is growled, and in the face of gunfire, yes.. Kurt is faster than a speeding bullet, even when it's pointed at him. When he returns, however, it's not in a spot where she actually expects him. He doesn't come in high to land. What he does is come in low, and rather than sweeping a foot out from under her, he grabs her with the bloody, offending tail around the ankle and leaps up, dragging her with him.

At that very moment, there's a shift of the interior fuselage, and the creaking, groaning mess causes some of the pipes to come crashing through the ceiling exactly where Domino had stood only seconds ago.

Nope.. and Kurt honestly had no idea.

Which, of course, brings something of a lucid thought..

Perhaps the time is coming to depart the plane. Again.

"Save it," Domino spits out an instant before she's hauled off of her feet by that ludicrously strong tail.

Maybe..grabbing hold of her isn't the best idea in the world.

That wiry, black armored body twists about, one hand on the back of a seat, non-snagged foot coming around to catch Kurt in the ribs, other arm sweeping about to shoot two more rounds up into the ceiling mere inches away from where Kurt's crawling. Two shots which prove to be just enough for a five foot section of interior paneling to suddenly give way and fall, with Kurt still adhered to it.

The combination of wind and air pressure causes the loosed panel to catch the turbulent wind almost immediately, threatening to throw both of them straight out the side of the plane.

Either Kurt will let go in time or they'll get teleported back into the plane. Either way, she's not done here. He wanted her back. Now he's got her, all to himself.

Free of that tail or not she's back into motion, another shot angled toward the floor ricocheting twice then catching another part of the roof and dropping a different section of pipe right as her free arm is swept around in an overhead blow. That pipe serves to extend her reach, landing precisely where she would need it to be when she would need it to be there.

Right in line with Kurt's shoulder. Followed with an attempted head-butt.

Maybe she can't teleport. Maybe she doesn't have a fifth fighting limb. What she has is being able to move in completely unpredictable ways. Just try to find a pattern in chaos.

Whoof!

The foot catches Kurt in the ribs, but he absorbs the blow with a growl. He swings his tail in an attempt to make it a great deal more difficult for Domino to catch a target, regardless of where she's aiming. Of course that part is moot as the woman lives life on the edge and while she may not consciously count on her luck, it is there at her disposal. It simply is.

Like his teleporting.

The rapid fire at the spot where he's been holding on? Placement doesn't go unnoticed, and he uncoils his tail from her ankle, ready to throw her across the room. He drops as the piece of fuselage disappears behind them, and is crouching on all fours in the landing. He snarls, his face enveloped in shadow as what is left of the electrical begins to fizzle out. Domino may have reach with that pipe, after the sharp reports sound through the cabin, but he's now got the benefit of better eyesight.

It makes contact with Kurt's shoulder even as he begins a leap up and towards her, flipping in the air once to land atop of the merc. It's a blow that he curls up and takes, letting it send him on that slightly different trajectory.

Landing behind her, or presumably so, his tones are low and deliberate.

"China. I came hundreds of miles und thousands of feet up into the air.. und this.."

Kurt feints before he goes low once again, leaping in and through, looking all the world as if he's going to continue his path before,

BAMF!

He's teleported right above her on a semi-solid bit of internal fuselage, his tail danging to catch hold and wrap around that pipe she's got.

There's something else the blue guy has going for him. Perfect balance and no need to stand upright against the pull of gravity.

"And you take everything at face value!" Domino practically screams against the howling of a dying airplane. Blood from the fresh gash across her face makes her look like she just crawled out of a foxhole on some distant battlefield. The constant whipping of short black hair makes it look like she's standing in a wind tunnel.

"After putting up with that bitch mother of yours I figured you'd have a better understanding of how this works!"

The pipe's caught at almost the same instant that she touches off another shot, the door-slamming bang sending another round straight into the cabin where it sparks and comes buzzing right back at them, smacking against the seized pipe between the two with bone-jarring force.

The jet starts to veer off to the side, banking as more warning sirens blare out to deafened ears.

Rage begets rage. Dom's braced with one foot against the floor and the other against the wall as the jet makes its unscheduled turn, keeping that one pistol locked rock-steady upon the small blue form. Years of training and military drilling are starting to come to the forefront, not strictly in a combat sense.

"You got something to say?! Fucking say it!"

It's covering up for something else. Anger, survival instincts, the 'back against the wall' urge to escalate this fight...

She's afraid.

Cheng, the crashing plane, the Hand, none of it compares. Nothing else can hold a candle to the sight of the creature now hanging from the ceiling before her. This is the only way she can think of to try and retain some amount of control over a rapidly deteriorating situation.

"Say it or shut up and come at me!"

Kurt really is in the ideal position for this aircraft, regardless of position in space.. er.. air. The mutant demon lives in all physical dimensions, and makes use of every one of them on a daily basis. Upside down, right side up, sideways, in the air, on the ground, or anywhere in between is like 'home' to the blue teleporter. His particular physiology allows him to have near perfect balance on the smallest of perches, regardless of orientation.. musculature to the little suction cups on the bottom of his hands and feet.

"Are you comparing yourself to Mother?" His tones actually sound an incredulous note, even as he continues to dodge the ineffectual attacks upon his person. He's got the pipe in hand, and the ricochet of the next bullet hits the pipe that is between them. It is the one thing that connects him, and the jarring causes him to lose his grip. He doesn't want anything to do with the gun..

"Why is it so easy?!" he yells, his tones still seething. "Mother threw me down a cliff, not caring if I lived or died. 'Oh, he'll survive.. or he won't..'" And now? He's seeing the 'see you later, kthnksbai' was very much the same. But, more than that? He just killed a man with his bare.. tail. A man that put Domino into a position where even she had a swallow who she was, and dig deeper.. and he still doesn't know. And that, too, makes him angrier. Personal life be damned.

His smile is still so very feral, his fangs glistening in the dim light. Now, with the pole dropped, his tail whips around, the slapping of that limb against the interior leaves bloody line prints.

The plane, however, shifts, and rapidly. When it starts its bank, it comes as something of a surprise to Kurt, and he drops from the ceiling, landing on the floor of the aircraft. It requires some planning, some shifting of his own in order to compensate for the sharp turn. It looks as if he's coming at her, even if she's got that one pistol locked and ready-steady on his form.

"Shoot me." It's an order. An angry demand. Kurt knows full well that she won't. He prays that she won't. Can't. Wouldn't.

Third rule of survival: Never get emotionally involved with anyone. Ever.

As the plane banks further still the orange light of dawn vanishes, giving way to the trio of glowing green dots atop of Domino's pistol, zeroed right between the glowing yellow slits of eyes before her.

Finger on the trigger.

Unable to pull.

The albino's jaw clenches, fingers aching with the savage grip she has upon her own weapon. One second. Two. Three... Then the plane drops out beneath her.

Without thinking she starts sprinting forward, practically locked in place as the jet tries to go one way and she tries to go the other. It's but a flicker of time before she's leaping across the gap in the ceiling where that panel had been shot away, nearly getting hit from above with the weight of her own bag of gear.

In the same motion she catches one of the straps and leaps forward. Straight for Kurt. The whine of over-stressed engines sounds louder, the jet beginning to plummet into an uncontrolled nosedive.

Weightlessness... Weightlessness, and blood-soaked fur.

Kurt is stock-still. With all the chaos that goes on around around him, around them, there's nothing in this world beyond that albino before him. His sea-legs, as it were, easily and naturally compensate for the pitching of the aircraft.

There isn't a word that is spoken between them now, and those glowing, golden eyes simply stare, looking into those ice blue eyes.

Suddenly, the plane drops from under his feet, but all the acrobat has to do is reach out to grab something, anything, and pull himself up and flip his feet up and find purchase. All in all, simply a matter of a second or two. Once there?

Whether it's an unconscious game of chicken they're playing, or perhaps it is something of a sudden realization (or decision) on their part, Domino makes that flying leap of what Kurt would consider to be 'faith', into his arms, and his tail wraps about her tightly, holding on to her as if there is nothing in the world that could ever come between them at that very moment.

She's in his arms; her anchor.. and in the next second, Kurt bamfs the pair to the back of the aircraft, and before he teleports out, he leans over to kiss her on her very pale nose.

"I choose life," he whispers.. and with the briefest release to grab a parachute (not that he'll need it!), Kurt teleports out of the aircraft.. and for a moment, the pair are in the air, lingering there, the stricken aircraft truly plummeting. They were closer to the ground than perhaps even Kurt realizes, but he makes do!

The landing, in comparison to the flight, is a great deal less eventful. Even with dirt and grass.. and trees.. and rolling through the landing. Rolling.. and coming to a bruised and cut-up stop in a dairy farmer's field.

"Thank you for flying Bamf Air.."

Old habits die hard. Never leave without being prepared: Dom's got a bag full of gear. Always know where your exits are: An open doorway, a teleporting mutant. Trust in muscle memory: Training with Nightcrawler means she's started to incorporate his ability for a timely evac into her operating patterns with him.

It works, too. Fortunate, right?

When that kiss lands upon the tip of her nose it's like a switch is flipped inside of her brain. Here she is, once again. From threatening to shoot the guy cold to being back within his hold, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Then they're gone. No more plane. Morning sunlight, a brief free-fall, and a rough landing in a comparatively soft field. The very angle of the hill seems to work in their favor, taking some of the impact out of their landing while providing a downhill stretch to allow their momentum to gradually use itself up.

"Feel better..?" Domino eventually asks in a breathless voice.

Thousands of feet away the jet slams into the countryside, casting a whole new illuminating glow to the morning skyline as it transforms into a massive fireball.

The albino pauses then briskly nods once. "Good. So do I."