Enyalida2012-10-06 01:40:20
Here's the play thread for the game. If you have any questions you can ask me in PMs or on the other thread, after this post, this thread should be reserved for the actual playing of the game! I'm going to finish writing up the intro right here, and then we can start! We'll see how the pace works out with everyone playing, and make adjustments to things as we go.
Enyalida2012-10-06 03:02:53
Disclaimers and other goodies:
As the massive steel behemoth - with its 200 foot wingspan and 500,000 pound weight - slipped up off the ground in Denver, no passenger gave more than a passing thought to the absurdity of the situation. To most of them, the marvel of heavier-than-air flight was remarkable, but entirely within the normal. Once the rush of takeoff faded, when the resonant drone of the engines and the wind rushing past became monotonous, all but the most inquisitive - at least those lucky few with a window seat - settled in for the two hour flight.
Flight 333 from Denver to Chicago began as normal as any other flight in a massive 747. Fully frisked and scanned, the passengers filed in slowly past the hatch and the spiral staircase to the second floor, making their way to their seats. Some stayed near the front of the plane, some travelled up the stairs, but the majority of occupants followed the tired smiles of air flight attendants to the rows upon rows of economy seats. 10 to a row, they half-smile at the attendant as she eventually comes their way, through one of the two aisles, to serve their drink.
Jack:
You are seated in the economy section, between the wings of the plane, in row 46, which is one behind the emergency exit row. You got neither a window seat or a aisle seat. You are on the far left window section) To your left (in the window seat) at the moment is sitting a fat elderly man, who has the window closed and is sleeping with a mask on. Though the flight is only two and a half hours long, he took out the mask and went to sleep promptly as the plane took off. To your right is a middle-aged bookish woman, who is reading a cheap paperback romance novel through her thin-rectangular reading glasses. You pull out one of the catalogs from the seatback and leaf through it idly, periodically grimacing ever so slightly at your sore muscles and bruises.
Jeanette:
You are seated much closer to the front of the plane. You have seat 37D. This puts you in the center section, right on the left aisle. To your right is a couple, a bit younger than you are. The man is caucasian, the woman Indian. From what you gathered from your momentary conversation as you sat down, they are going to Chicago to announce their engagement to her family. Both of them appear to be deliriously happy, positively glowing as they hold hands and use a split headphone jack to watch a movie together on their portable dvd player. Part of you is merely happy for them, the other part is chuckling, hoping they're both up to it. They seem like nice folk. David is sleeping well, he was fussy when the plane was going up, due to pressure problems, but has gone back to sleep.
Matt:
You are not an economy passenger, naturally. You are seated in the 'Super Business Class' portion of the plane, the first class. Unlike the vast majority of the passengers, you went up the staircase and situated yourself in the appointed recliner-esque chair. You are seated near the back, where you can see most of the twenty-some-odd people in this portion of the plane. A curious glance as you get back from the bathroom reveals various smart executive types, a few prim-but-attractive secretarial types, and even fewer smart-aleky dot-com babies in fashionable clothing. Your single neighbor is of the first type, who looks like he could be the ceo of a slightly-large company, or someone attached to a political group (As you are). As far as you can tell, he didn't look out of his window a single time The odd man out would be the disheveled guy at the front, who whipped out his laptop and has been typing furiously at his laptop, plugged into the in-flight.
Fatima:
You're beginning your refreshment rounds again, at the back of the plane. It's the usual mix of characters making bad airplane jokes and demands. Everything from grumpy old couples, to young entitled snobs, as usual: Each flight is a veritable cross-section of humanity. You did smile at one of the rows at the front, where a woman cradling a baby reminds you that not everyone is so bad.
"Can I get either of you anything?", you ask quietly. The mother shakes her head.
"He's out like a light. I'd like some coffee, though."
"Here you go. Yes, he does look comfortable."
"Sometimes I think these seats are built for children."
More airplane humor. The slight warm feeling fades as you trudge down the long aisles. Trained to notice any suspicious actions, a man halfway down your aisle trips your radar. He was glancing around furtively as the plane took off and moving stiffly. However, once the plane was at cruising altitude, he hurried off to the lavatory and came back looking relieved - you figure he had indigestion or flight sickness. Also moving stiffly was a man who ordered whiskey sours, a man with dark glasses on, apparently to hide a bruise on his face.
Fatima nears the front of the plane, relieved that she can soon go sit down for a while to rest her aching feet. She climbs the stairs and pulls aside the curtain. On the other side of the curtain is a man who already has had a couple of drinks over the course of the flight. Yet another sad-looking guy, with whom she launches into her standard patter:
"Coffee, tea, or milk?" Americans always seem to think she's implying something dirty when she asks that. He shakes his head and points at his empty plastic 'glass'.
"Everyone's always complaining about bad airplane food, but you do make a good gin an' tonic. How about another?" he asks with a disarming grin.
"We're going to set down, and you'll still be flying." she quips absentmindedly.
"Oh, I feel more like a crash" he said.
Fatima pours more drinks for the businessmen and executives in first class. At last, there is only one more man to serve a drink, at the front of the cabin. He looks like he doesn't belong, wearing a leather jacket and typing feverishly at his computer. He pauses only to scratch at his scruffy beard. She wonders if he is some kind of computer programmer or author, because whatever he does, his grungy clothes apparently don't cut into his paycheck. On the back of his computer is a giant decal of glaring human eyes. Before approaching him, she glances at her watch, it's 3:32 pm.
"Is there anything you want, sir?" she asks him.
He laughs abrubtly, making Fatima uneasy. "What I want isn't on your tray, honey," he says, his eyes glittering.
"Ah, well let me know if there's anything I can do" she says as the turns away and pushes her cart towards her drop seat, thinking only of sitting down.
"One thing", he says. She turns around to see him pointing a gun at her from his seat.
"Take me to the pilot" he says.
At the back of the plane, on the first floor, a man stands up, gun in hand. He holds the gun in the air andshouts:
"Attention, passengers! Little sheep, blindly giving money to the capitalist pigs who run our airports! Fools and cowards who kiss the boots of the opressive class. I have come to take you from under the shadow of these godless harlots, and I am not afraid to kill for Allah! "
((Act as you will, if at all. Fatima, you still are at gunpoint.))
This, and all of the following thread, is an adaptation of the written material presented in 'One Shots', published by Atlas Games. I'm not a part of that company, and am using their material as permitted by the copyright of 'One Shots' for personal use during a game. I have written parts of the material posted here, but not everything I post is solely my own work.
Spoilers demarcate the difference between narrative and something addressing the character directly. You can read each other's spoilers if you want, anything truly private will be pm'd. It's been a while since I wrote any sort of substantial narrative, bear with me as my style wavers, it'll improve as I de-rust.
This campaign presents a caricature of Islam extremism, after a fashion. The character involved is willfully MISREPRESENTING the culture, even more so than a real extremist could be said to. I have to be over the top about it for effect, but I have a lot of respect for real Muslims and their culture. Please no one take offense, please?
Cast:
Zyphora as Fatima
Lilija as Jeanette
Portius as Jack
Maellio as Matt
Spoilers demarcate the difference between narrative and something addressing the character directly. You can read each other's spoilers if you want, anything truly private will be pm'd. It's been a while since I wrote any sort of substantial narrative, bear with me as my style wavers, it'll improve as I de-rust.
This campaign presents a caricature of Islam extremism, after a fashion. The character involved is willfully MISREPRESENTING the culture, even more so than a real extremist could be said to. I have to be over the top about it for effect, but I have a lot of respect for real Muslims and their culture. Please no one take offense, please?
Cast:
Zyphora as Fatima
Lilija as Jeanette
Portius as Jack
Maellio as Matt
As the massive steel behemoth - with its 200 foot wingspan and 500,000 pound weight - slipped up off the ground in Denver, no passenger gave more than a passing thought to the absurdity of the situation. To most of them, the marvel of heavier-than-air flight was remarkable, but entirely within the normal. Once the rush of takeoff faded, when the resonant drone of the engines and the wind rushing past became monotonous, all but the most inquisitive - at least those lucky few with a window seat - settled in for the two hour flight.
Flight 333 from Denver to Chicago began as normal as any other flight in a massive 747. Fully frisked and scanned, the passengers filed in slowly past the hatch and the spiral staircase to the second floor, making their way to their seats. Some stayed near the front of the plane, some travelled up the stairs, but the majority of occupants followed the tired smiles of air flight attendants to the rows upon rows of economy seats. 10 to a row, they half-smile at the attendant as she eventually comes their way, through one of the two aisles, to serve their drink.
Jack:
You are seated in the economy section, between the wings of the plane, in row 46, which is one behind the emergency exit row. You got neither a window seat or a aisle seat. You are on the far left window section) To your left (in the window seat) at the moment is sitting a fat elderly man, who has the window closed and is sleeping with a mask on. Though the flight is only two and a half hours long, he took out the mask and went to sleep promptly as the plane took off. To your right is a middle-aged bookish woman, who is reading a cheap paperback romance novel through her thin-rectangular reading glasses. You pull out one of the catalogs from the seatback and leaf through it idly, periodically grimacing ever so slightly at your sore muscles and bruises.
Jeanette:
You are seated much closer to the front of the plane. You have seat 37D. This puts you in the center section, right on the left aisle. To your right is a couple, a bit younger than you are. The man is caucasian, the woman Indian. From what you gathered from your momentary conversation as you sat down, they are going to Chicago to announce their engagement to her family. Both of them appear to be deliriously happy, positively glowing as they hold hands and use a split headphone jack to watch a movie together on their portable dvd player. Part of you is merely happy for them, the other part is chuckling, hoping they're both up to it. They seem like nice folk. David is sleeping well, he was fussy when the plane was going up, due to pressure problems, but has gone back to sleep.
Matt:
You are not an economy passenger, naturally. You are seated in the 'Super Business Class' portion of the plane, the first class. Unlike the vast majority of the passengers, you went up the staircase and situated yourself in the appointed recliner-esque chair. You are seated near the back, where you can see most of the twenty-some-odd people in this portion of the plane. A curious glance as you get back from the bathroom reveals various smart executive types, a few prim-but-attractive secretarial types, and even fewer smart-aleky dot-com babies in fashionable clothing. Your single neighbor is of the first type, who looks like he could be the ceo of a slightly-large company, or someone attached to a political group (As you are). As far as you can tell, he didn't look out of his window a single time The odd man out would be the disheveled guy at the front, who whipped out his laptop and has been typing furiously at his laptop, plugged into the in-flight.
Fatima:
You're beginning your refreshment rounds again, at the back of the plane. It's the usual mix of characters making bad airplane jokes and demands. Everything from grumpy old couples, to young entitled snobs, as usual: Each flight is a veritable cross-section of humanity. You did smile at one of the rows at the front, where a woman cradling a baby reminds you that not everyone is so bad.
"Can I get either of you anything?", you ask quietly. The mother shakes her head.
"He's out like a light. I'd like some coffee, though."
"Here you go. Yes, he does look comfortable."
"Sometimes I think these seats are built for children."
More airplane humor. The slight warm feeling fades as you trudge down the long aisles. Trained to notice any suspicious actions, a man halfway down your aisle trips your radar. He was glancing around furtively as the plane took off and moving stiffly. However, once the plane was at cruising altitude, he hurried off to the lavatory and came back looking relieved - you figure he had indigestion or flight sickness. Also moving stiffly was a man who ordered whiskey sours, a man with dark glasses on, apparently to hide a bruise on his face.
Fatima nears the front of the plane, relieved that she can soon go sit down for a while to rest her aching feet. She climbs the stairs and pulls aside the curtain. On the other side of the curtain is a man who already has had a couple of drinks over the course of the flight. Yet another sad-looking guy, with whom she launches into her standard patter:
"Coffee, tea, or milk?" Americans always seem to think she's implying something dirty when she asks that. He shakes his head and points at his empty plastic 'glass'.
"Everyone's always complaining about bad airplane food, but you do make a good gin an' tonic. How about another?" he asks with a disarming grin.
"We're going to set down, and you'll still be flying." she quips absentmindedly.
"Oh, I feel more like a crash" he said.
Fatima pours more drinks for the businessmen and executives in first class. At last, there is only one more man to serve a drink, at the front of the cabin. He looks like he doesn't belong, wearing a leather jacket and typing feverishly at his computer. He pauses only to scratch at his scruffy beard. She wonders if he is some kind of computer programmer or author, because whatever he does, his grungy clothes apparently don't cut into his paycheck. On the back of his computer is a giant decal of glaring human eyes. Before approaching him, she glances at her watch, it's 3:32 pm.
"Is there anything you want, sir?" she asks him.
He laughs abrubtly, making Fatima uneasy. "What I want isn't on your tray, honey," he says, his eyes glittering.
"Ah, well let me know if there's anything I can do" she says as the turns away and pushes her cart towards her drop seat, thinking only of sitting down.
"One thing", he says. She turns around to see him pointing a gun at her from his seat.
"Take me to the pilot" he says.
At the back of the plane, on the first floor, a man stands up, gun in hand. He holds the gun in the air andshouts:
"Attention, passengers! Little sheep, blindly giving money to the capitalist pigs who run our airports! Fools and cowards who kiss the boots of the opressive class. I have come to take you from under the shadow of these godless harlots, and I am not afraid to kill for Allah! "
((Act as you will, if at all. Fatima, you still are at gunpoint.))
Unknown2012-10-06 04:49:18
If, it's possible to slightly influence the situation prior to that setup , then see below -
My drink order to Fatima, "A nice cup of something hot and caffeinated, tea or coffee don't care what just hot." Which, I will sip at.
Else, ]
My drink order to Fatima, "A nice cup of something hot and caffeinated, tea or coffee don't care what just hot." Which, I will sip at.
Else, ]
Enyalida2012-10-06 16:20:59
((Yes, you can back-play somewhat, though the man who said "Oh, I feel more like a crash." was intended to be you, the man with nothing to lose. (That exchange is lightly paraphrased from the start-up byplay from the book)))
You notice only that the indian stewardess who served you your drink is still near the front of the section, speaking with the disheveled man you noticed before. He is evidently done with his work, whatever it was, as he is taking the time to speak with Fatima. They are too far away for you to hear what they are saying, and his back is turned to you, but if you're still watching, he stands up.
You notice only that the indian stewardess who served you your drink is still near the front of the section, speaking with the disheveled man you noticed before. He is evidently done with his work, whatever it was, as he is taking the time to speak with Fatima. They are too far away for you to hear what they are saying, and his back is turned to you, but if you're still watching, he stands up.
Unknown2012-10-06 18:19:28
]
Enyalida2012-10-06 19:36:16
((Don't worry, you're not particularly drunk, I'm not going to penalize you anything that won't help with your social rolls.))
Unknown2012-10-06 20:07:36
]
Portius2012-10-06 21:20:46
((Am I correct in assuming that those of us outside of first class have no idea what is going on at this point?))
Enyalida2012-10-06 21:24:53
((You may react to the guy in the economy class shouting, from the bottom of my post... He's loud, crazy, and is branishing a weapon. You can also use the other thread for OOC questions.))
Zyphora2012-10-06 21:38:15
I freeze in shock at the gun pointed at my face before taking a deep breath to calm myself. I put my hands up over my head to convey my compliance.
I say, "All right, I will lead you to him. May I know what you want to ask him?"
I quickly scan the rows of passengers and aisles for fellow flight employees before shifting my gaze back to him, hoping someone will notice what is happening.
((How much training have I had regarding hijacking situations?))
I say, "All right, I will lead you to him. May I know what you want to ask him?"
I quickly scan the rows of passengers and aisles for fellow flight employees before shifting my gaze back to him, hoping someone will notice what is happening.
((How much training have I had regarding hijacking situations?))
Enyalida2012-10-07 16:44:06
My apologies, Fatima, Matt, and this man with the gun are also on the first floor of the plane, but are in the front section (in front of the stairs.). There is a curtain separating the first class section from the economy section. You folk in the front of the plane can hear yelling from the back of the plane, but cannot make out what is being said.
Fatima:
You have been trained moderately well to handle hijacking situations, having been a long-time flight attendant and having gone through part of flight schooling to become a pilot for a plane like this. You want to save these people, and you figure that this guy doesn't look like he's going to off himself with something too crazy if you play along.
The man steps towards the front of the plane, moving around Fatima without taking his eyes from her.
"What do you think I want to 'ask' him, lassie. Just hold there for a minute." he says (in a half-assed irish accent), reaching down to pull up a camera and position it on his seat, facing the aisle. "Alright, let's go" he motions impatiently towards the stairs of the upper deck with his gun.
"None of you move!", he commands, now holding his gun at shoulder level, a foot from Fatima's back. A few of the passengers in the section scream, though they quickly bit back their exclamation.
As this is happening, back in the economy section, the man there with the gun continues his tirade:
"Everyone put on your seatbelts, this will be a bumpy ride! YOU!" he snarls at the closest stewardess, who is still blinking in shock. "YOU, lickspittle of the cancerous tumors you call master! Gather up the other flight attendants", he spits, "and bring them to the back of the plane!"
This done, and the stewardess scurrying off on shaking legs to grab those in the kitchen area, he begins pacing up and down the aisles, staying near the back of the plane.
"Oh yes, I have seen the light! I have no fear of death here, I have been promised great riches! I see you quake in fear, this is fitting, for those so small!" He grins, and shouts something arabic-sounding before continuing in the same vein: "I fight for freedom, what do you fight for? America, land of the free. PAH, all I see are dogs scared of their "masters", too stupid to take a stand!"
Fatima:
You have been trained moderately well to handle hijacking situations, having been a long-time flight attendant and having gone through part of flight schooling to become a pilot for a plane like this. You want to save these people, and you figure that this guy doesn't look like he's going to off himself with something too crazy if you play along.
The man steps towards the front of the plane, moving around Fatima without taking his eyes from her.
"What do you think I want to 'ask' him, lassie. Just hold there for a minute." he says (in a half-assed irish accent), reaching down to pull up a camera and position it on his seat, facing the aisle. "Alright, let's go" he motions impatiently towards the stairs of the upper deck with his gun.
"None of you move!", he commands, now holding his gun at shoulder level, a foot from Fatima's back. A few of the passengers in the section scream, though they quickly bit back their exclamation.
As this is happening, back in the economy section, the man there with the gun continues his tirade:
"Everyone put on your seatbelts, this will be a bumpy ride! YOU!" he snarls at the closest stewardess, who is still blinking in shock. "YOU, lickspittle of the cancerous tumors you call master! Gather up the other flight attendants", he spits, "and bring them to the back of the plane!"
This done, and the stewardess scurrying off on shaking legs to grab those in the kitchen area, he begins pacing up and down the aisles, staying near the back of the plane.
"Oh yes, I have seen the light! I have no fear of death here, I have been promised great riches! I see you quake in fear, this is fitting, for those so small!" He grins, and shouts something arabic-sounding before continuing in the same vein: "I fight for freedom, what do you fight for? America, land of the free. PAH, all I see are dogs scared of their "masters", too stupid to take a stand!"
Portius2012-10-07 17:10:29
Well, Mr. Ranty does make me angry. But he has a gun. I know that this is kind of a problem for me. Then again, someone like him can't exactly be a trained soldier, so I probably have a chance. So I'm going to wait until he's looking somewhere else and then make like I'm fainting to get down on the ground. Then I'm going to try to get to the aisle as discreetly as I can to ambush him when he gets close, hoping all the way that none of the other passengers panic and bring attention to me.
EDIT: ((In light of the physical impossibilities that have been pointed out, and my lack of a sense of scale for jets, you should ignore this.))
EDIT: ((In light of the physical impossibilities that have been pointed out, and my lack of a sense of scale for jets, you should ignore this.))
Enyalida2012-10-07 17:13:50
((Remember, you're not really a small guy, and you're in the middle of the section, not in an aisle seat. You've got a skittish woman strapped into the seat on your right you'd have to climb over to get to the aisle, and the guy with the gun is pacing back and forth at the moment. Not that much legroom in the economy class!))
Zyphora2012-10-07 18:15:47
Praying that I will have the strength to survive this, I slowly walk towards the cockpit of the airplane, trying to buy time. Adopting a reassuring voice, I say over my shoulder, "Please, you don't have to go through with this. My name is Fatima. We can negotiate with the pilot to drop you off somewhere. The airline can give you money - a lot of ransom money. You don't have to go through with this."
I hope that somehow I can convince this man not to kill anyone.
I hope that somehow I can convince this man not to kill anyone.
Unknown2012-10-07 20:36:00
]
Enyalida2012-10-07 21:14:25
((Yeah, that's where the apologies come in. As far as any of you are aware, there are three sections to the plane. There is the first class section, in the front of the bottom floor. Then there is a curtain. Then there is the economy section, the back of the bottom floor. Then there is the upstairs, this is the 'super business' area. Fatima knows that the upstairs is where the cockpit is, totaling four areas. You are in the first class area, Fatima and computer-guy are leaving to go upstairs right now. "I kill for Allah" guy is in the economy section."
Also, if you're all itching for action, once Fatima goes upstairs is really when all the players get actions fo' real.))
Jack:
Fatima: (Matt, you are aware of this interaction)
Also, if you're all itching for action, once Fatima goes upstairs is really when all the players get actions fo' real.))
Jack:
Your judo training tingles: every movement, every throw has the perfect opponent, and the perfect timing. You don't think you can get over the woman, into the aisle, and rush the guy before he can turn around to train his gun on you - or on someone else, totally innocent. Of course you can always try!
Fatima: (Matt, you are aware of this interaction)
Above the drone of the engines, this section of the cabin has gone mostly silent. A few of the less mentally-hardy passengers have begun to quietly weep in their seats, though no one has begun wailing or making a commotion... yet.
((Fatima - Test against 'Fit In': 87 rolled. Flip-flopping irrelevant))
He falters for a moment, brows knit together in consternation. "I-I..." he starts.
And then the moment passes. "I've been pushed down long enough. The airline, the police, the government, they're all in on it! I don't want to kill anyone lady, and I won't if you just go along. To the pilot please." He punctuates his sentence with a prod of gunpoint.
Fatima and this man shuffle into the dividing area, and the curtains close behind them. For the moment, there is no one standing in this section of the plane. The jitters start to settle in for the other passengers, they begin to chatter hysterically, locked into their own little panic spirals.
((Matt - rolls notice: 27))
Matt:
((Fatima - Test against 'Fit In': 87 rolled. Flip-flopping irrelevant))
He falters for a moment, brows knit together in consternation. "I-I..." he starts.
And then the moment passes. "I've been pushed down long enough. The airline, the police, the government, they're all in on it! I don't want to kill anyone lady, and I won't if you just go along. To the pilot please." He punctuates his sentence with a prod of gunpoint.
Fatima and this man shuffle into the dividing area, and the curtains close behind them. For the moment, there is no one standing in this section of the plane. The jitters start to settle in for the other passengers, they begin to chatter hysterically, locked into their own little panic spirals.
((Matt - rolls notice: 27))
Matt:
You figure that you don't have too much time to do something unobserved, but you do have a little bit of time. The folks in this part aren't exactly the fittest, but they could be of some use if you can get them to calm down. It looks like the computer-man (you still don't know his name) left his computer and camera in his seat. Both are hardwired to each other and the flight phone service. You know that some planes have wi-fi on them now, this evidently isn't one of those, for whatever reason. Fatima's drink cart is still in this section of the plane, with everything on it.
Fatima and the computer-man, having reached the top of the stairs and made it into the super business class portion of the plane, stop at the back. The man whisks open the curtain there and announces loudly
"Everyone put your seatbelt on and your head between your knees! The plane is ours, no one move and I won't have to hurt anyone!"
Seeing everyone comply, after the usual time of shock, another gunprod to Fatima's back indicates that he wants to proceed forward. Only the terse command "Pilots" accompanies his non-verbal command.
Back in the economy class, the loud man has corralled all of the stewardesses. He pulls aside the eldest -a middle aged, matronly woman- and holds a gun directly to her head.
"All the rest of you, into the bathrooms, you can all fit if you're pack in by twos! Isn't it fitting, those under the feet of 'Great America' stuffed under the feet of the plane?" he spits venomously again. Once all of the stewardesses are jammed into the toilets, he stands at behind them and trains a gun on the remaining stewardess.
"What's your name, harlot?"
"R-Rhonda"
"Alright, Ruh- Rhonda, close those doors, push them in if you have to!"
This done, he produces a large tube of superglue from his pocket with a flourish, deftly sealing shut the sliding mechanism of the door latches, an eye and a gun pointed at Rhonda the entire time. He then takes his gun and presses to her head, coming up and wrapping his other arm around her neck as me forces her to march to the front of the section. With everyone in view, he grins evilly.
"Now that we have that taken care of would the Air Marshal on this flight please stand? Come now, coward, you're here somewhere! If you don't stand, this woman will feel my full... displeasure."
EDIT:
((While NOT a perfectly accurate map of this plane, this picture will give you the general idea of what I mean:
http://www.iflybusin...-Combipopup.jpg
The Green portion is the 'economy class'. It's separated from the first class section (that light green color) by a smaller-than-this picture kitchen and bathroom section, that is separated with curtains. Upstairs is the 'super business class' section, which is separated by a door (AND a curtain) from the cockpit, which is at the far front.
))
Matt is in the first class section. Fatima and computer-guy (he does have a name :P) are in the super-business class, just about to poke into the pilots area. Jack and Jeanette are in the economy section, off of the left aisle. Crazy guy has just marched up to the front of the economy section. He's about two rows away from Jeanette and her baby, who are in the second row on the right side of that aisle. Jack is one row behind the emergency exit, in the center of the left portion.
EDIT2: This is really where every character starts being able to act in some fashion, though some still need to wait for an opportunity (like Jeanette. Don't worry, it'll come). So play it up! I'll be back in two hours-ish.
Fatima and the computer-man, having reached the top of the stairs and made it into the super business class portion of the plane, stop at the back. The man whisks open the curtain there and announces loudly
"Everyone put your seatbelt on and your head between your knees! The plane is ours, no one move and I won't have to hurt anyone!"
Seeing everyone comply, after the usual time of shock, another gunprod to Fatima's back indicates that he wants to proceed forward. Only the terse command "Pilots" accompanies his non-verbal command.
Back in the economy class, the loud man has corralled all of the stewardesses. He pulls aside the eldest -a middle aged, matronly woman- and holds a gun directly to her head.
"All the rest of you, into the bathrooms, you can all fit if you're pack in by twos! Isn't it fitting, those under the feet of 'Great America' stuffed under the feet of the plane?" he spits venomously again. Once all of the stewardesses are jammed into the toilets, he stands at behind them and trains a gun on the remaining stewardess.
"What's your name, harlot?"
"R-Rhonda"
"Alright, Ruh- Rhonda, close those doors, push them in if you have to!"
This done, he produces a large tube of superglue from his pocket with a flourish, deftly sealing shut the sliding mechanism of the door latches, an eye and a gun pointed at Rhonda the entire time. He then takes his gun and presses to her head, coming up and wrapping his other arm around her neck as me forces her to march to the front of the section. With everyone in view, he grins evilly.
"Now that we have that taken care of would the Air Marshal on this flight please stand? Come now, coward, you're here somewhere! If you don't stand, this woman will feel my full... displeasure."
EDIT:
((While NOT a perfectly accurate map of this plane, this picture will give you the general idea of what I mean:
http://www.iflybusin...-Combipopup.jpg
The Green portion is the 'economy class'. It's separated from the first class section (that light green color) by a smaller-than-this picture kitchen and bathroom section, that is separated with curtains. Upstairs is the 'super business class' section, which is separated by a door (AND a curtain) from the cockpit, which is at the far front.
))
Matt is in the first class section. Fatima and computer-guy (he does have a name :P) are in the super-business class, just about to poke into the pilots area. Jack and Jeanette are in the economy section, off of the left aisle. Crazy guy has just marched up to the front of the economy section. He's about two rows away from Jeanette and her baby, who are in the second row on the right side of that aisle. Jack is one row behind the emergency exit, in the center of the left portion.
EDIT2: This is really where every character starts being able to act in some fashion, though some still need to wait for an opportunity (like Jeanette. Don't worry, it'll come). So play it up! I'll be back in two hours-ish.
Unknown2012-10-08 02:54:42
]
I'll make my way up towards computer guy's seat and chat with the passengers as I go, trying to inspire some courage in the most jittery passengers ] and otherwise giving the impression I'm someone in charge ].
I'd like to get as good a look at his computer without managing to cross that camera. ]
I'll make my way up towards computer guy's seat and chat with the passengers as I go, trying to inspire some courage in the most jittery passengers ] and otherwise giving the impression I'm someone in charge ].
I'd like to get as good a look at his computer without managing to cross that camera. ]
Enyalida2012-10-08 03:33:28
Matt:
While the other passengers generally aren't up to chatting with you at the moment, they all remain in their seats and remain more or less quiet. It's clear that most of them are glad that SOMEONE is doing SOMETHING, though none of them really believe you when you tell them you're plane security, that much is obvious by the wide-eyed stares you're getting. Those who didn't have a clear view of you are now turned to stare at you, in the manner familiar to anyone who has seen a horror film. They're the silent woman cowering in the corner, tracking you with their eyes as you creep up on the murder's back, baseball bat raised above your head.
You can't avoid the camera, but the little red light on the front isn't on anyhow. The computer is chugging away, obviously connected and doing something. You aren't a particularly tech-savvy guy, but yes, that's definitely the internet he's got going there, and though the camera evidently isn't recording right now, it's on and appears to be ready to record something.
Back in the Economy section:
"By Allah, you don't think I'll kill this woman?! I will, or my name isn't Apu al Sayid!!"
As he says his name, a collective shiver passes through the crowd and the first real signs of terror begin to show among the passengers as some of them crack. They all recognize the name from somewhere... This man is a known terrorist, he's done this sort of thing before and survived it! What's worse, not many people survived him.
"You have until the count of five!"
"One...."
While the other passengers generally aren't up to chatting with you at the moment, they all remain in their seats and remain more or less quiet. It's clear that most of them are glad that SOMEONE is doing SOMETHING, though none of them really believe you when you tell them you're plane security, that much is obvious by the wide-eyed stares you're getting. Those who didn't have a clear view of you are now turned to stare at you, in the manner familiar to anyone who has seen a horror film. They're the silent woman cowering in the corner, tracking you with their eyes as you creep up on the murder's back, baseball bat raised above your head.
You can't avoid the camera, but the little red light on the front isn't on anyhow. The computer is chugging away, obviously connected and doing something. You aren't a particularly tech-savvy guy, but yes, that's definitely the internet he's got going there, and though the camera evidently isn't recording right now, it's on and appears to be ready to record something.
Back in the Economy section:
"By Allah, you don't think I'll kill this woman?! I will, or my name isn't Apu al Sayid!!"
As he says his name, a collective shiver passes through the crowd and the first real signs of terror begin to show among the passengers as some of them crack. They all recognize the name from somewhere... This man is a known terrorist, he's done this sort of thing before and survived it! What's worse, not many people survived him.
"You have until the count of five!"
"One...."
Portius2012-10-08 04:42:51
Well, I can't have him shooting an innocent just because the real marshal won't identify himself. Maybe he isn't here, maybe he's a coward, maybe he's waiting to take a shot when the moment is right. Doesn't really matter. I give the real marshal until the count of three to stand up. If he doesn't, I slowly stand up and call out:
"Marshal Chance. No need to kill her."
((If there's a chance to bring him down without getting shot, I'll take it. Otherwise, I'm just trying to keep people from getting killed.))
"Marshal Chance. No need to kill her."
((If there's a chance to bring him down without getting shot, I'll take it. Otherwise, I'm just trying to keep people from getting killed.))
Unknown2012-10-08 05:31:03
Well, whatever the computer's doing is important to this bozo, so I'm first going to unplug the camera and keep it with me. Next I'm going to turn to the nearest person and hand them my drink ,
"Okay, I'm going to go up'n have a nice little chat with Mr. Anti-social up there, see if we can't sort out what's bugging 'im. But if he goes sour and I say yell... "What d'ya need a gun for, bucko" you pour that all over his computer, ok?" ],
after which, leaving the drink with them regardless of response, I'm going to quickly search her cart for a small bottle of liquor ] before heading up the stairs as carefully as I can.
"Okay, I'm going to go up'n have a nice little chat with Mr. Anti-social up there, see if we can't sort out what's bugging 'im. But if he goes sour and I say yell... "What d'ya need a gun for, bucko" you pour that all over his computer, ok?" ],
after which, leaving the drink with them regardless of response, I'm going to quickly search her cart for a small bottle of liquor ] before heading up the stairs as carefully as I can.
