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Private we can save a freaking airplane

Discussion in 'Centria' started by Arthur Curry, Sep 5, 2019.

  1. Arthur Curry

    Arthur Curry DC Universe

    Posts:
    188

    date | September 5th, Y109
    tagged | @Queen Maeve

    Arthur's itinerary had him taking a portal hop from Pandopolis to Ark City, and then a plane from Ark City to a city on the west coast of Centria, and then a ferry from there to the little resort island that hosted Centria's Annual HR Convention as the formal DI rep (hahaha). It was wild. He was gonna learn all about the revamped standardized software and methodology for calculating payroll and workers comp and health insurance. And get his notary certification.

    It'd taken effort to actively resist the urge to road trip across the isthmus and just swim the rest of the way; but no, he was carrying a suitcase with paperwork and suits (a liberal flavor of business casual was his upper limit) with him, and he was trying to be a professional. Besides, he was all about trying new things these days. At least while the novelty was fresh, and while he was taking a break at laughing himself to an early grave.

    He'd scored one of the front row seats in his cabin so that his legs wouldn't, you know, actually die at the mercy of the reclining seat in front of him. And this was after the business class upgrade, and Arthur was immediately reminded of why he typically loathed commercial flights.

    So he'd taken a shot of wine and locked himself down with a sleeping mask and noise cancelling headphones. With luck, he'd snooze the bulk of the flight away and it'd be over before he knew it.

    Annnd there was already muffled screaming filtering through to his ears.

    Grimacing, he removed his eye mask first only to squint up at some douchebags dressed in all black sauntering down the aisle swinging a rifle around. A glance at the window told them they were over the ocean, less than an hour away from their destination. "Are you shitting me?" he muttered incredulously through the (muffled) clamor, finally pulling off the headphones so that the clamor was at its full cacophonous glory, and sighed as he reached to unbuckle his seatbelt.



    ( title inspiration credit to ophelia slkfdjs )
     
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  2. Queen Maeve

    Queen Maeve The Boys

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    It wasn't like she was afraid of planes. There had only been a little bit of tension in her shoulders when she had gotten on the plane. Dressed in normal clothing instead of the armor she was so use to wearing every day of her life. This hadn't been picked out by anyone. Jeans and a t-shirt, nothing that had been designed specifically with Queen Maeve in mind. No one knew who she was here. Maeve had only been here two weeks since she had arrived in Pandora and frankly, she had been at a loss on what to do.

    Oh, she was wise enough to secure a place to stay. She had picked up a few side jobs before signing on with a security firm called Sword and Shield. There was something a little ironic about that name. More so, there was something a little ironic about the man who ran it. Like Homelander and yet... not. Maeve still wasn't sure what to think about it but it was steady income and she was dead set on surviving in this world.

    There were far more supes around. People with special abilities, though super powers didn't always fit the bill for what she had seen. There were other races, things from space, and all sorts. Things that just wouldn't have made a damn lick of sense back home. Things that she was still having trouble wrapping her mind around.

    She had boarded the plane for work. Someone apparently needed a little bit of security for a couple of extra days. A babysitting gig. It was supposed to be easy. Something to help ease her into things, she supposed, though it didn't seem difficult at all. Maeve was far more than what the average criminal could ever hope to handle, but she was still tense on the flight. Which meant that she had had a couple of drinks at the start before finally being able to relax.

    But then the screaming started. Maeve had dozed off at some point and for a moment, the redhead thought that she was stuck in another nightmare. Leaving all those people to die on that plane had really messed with her head. Homelander could have saved everyone if he hadn't been so goddamn stupid. He could have at least saved that little girl and her mother. Maeve would have survived a plane crash. She was durable enough and strong enough that it wouldn't have been an issue.

    Maeve unbuckled herself and stood up to take a look around. Another person had stood, a giant of a man with a beard and long unruly looking hair. She looked past him and then pushed her way to the aisle, trying to figure out where that screaming was coming from. Hoping beyond hope that she wasn't about to have a repeat of her nightmares.
     
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  3. Arthur Curry

    Arthur Curry DC Universe

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    Honestly he didn't carry any regrets over not having experienced an airplane hijacking before. They sounded like a monumental pain in his ass, and Clark—or just Kal now—was far better equipped for them. Considerably more mobile in the skies to boot. But he was here, and the hijackers were here, and his eyes skipped past a bronze-haired passenger who seemed to be having more or less the same idea.

    A voice crackled aggressively from the cabin loudspeaker by the time Arthur was barely getting out of his seat. "EVERYONE, SIT DOWN AND PUT ON YOUR MASKS. I AM CUTTING OFF OXYGEN IN THREE MINUTES." Out popped the entire stash of masks dangling from the overhead seat compartments. His hand braced against the back of an occupied seat as the aircraft shook with an abrupt turbulence.

    The douchebags brandishing their firearms began shouting at him and the woman and shoving their weapons forward, eliciting no more than an annoyed grunt from him as his fist enclosed around the opening of the gun's barrel and bent the metal into a little curl. "Better get a handle on these guys before checking out the cockpit," he remarked conversationally, to the woman who was indeed a good deal more well-equipped than the average passenger cowering and whimpering in their seats.

    Douchebag #1 didn't take that very well as he tried to wrest, to no avail, his neutered AK-17 out of Arthur's grasp. Without further delay, the half-Atlantean shoved the gun forward and up so that the butt of it smashed against Douchebag #1 square in the nose. There was a resounding crack, and blood squirted out from the man's nostrils before he crumpled over the aisle in a heap. Two minutes and thirty-nine seconds to take care of Douchebags #2, #3, and... how many were there again?

     
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  4. Queen Maeve

    Queen Maeve The Boys

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    Her eyes closed slightly when a different voice came on over the speakers. This was not what she needed right now. But one way or another, Maeve was going to have to deal with this. She didn't know who the big guy was and she had no clue about his abilities. It was safer and smarter to assume she was the one best suited to handle this, even if there was a nervousness in her gut that she hadn't felt before.

    Three minutes until the oxygen was cut off? That was something that would actually affect her. She'd have trouble with the lack of oxygen and suddenly, Maeve would be in trouble. Now there was a timer counting down in the back of her mind and that kicked her anxiety another few notches. That timer did help though because now she had no time to have panic attacks. Or wish that she could stop for a drink.

    Big guy was going up against the lead man with the gun and he was a supe. Breaking and bending metal. Super strength, check. She had been down the other asile when he had broken the man's nose. All guns turned towards him because he seemed like the bigger threat. Stupid of them to do. She broke out into a run as soon as those guns were turned. Maeve was around the corner of the front row in less than a few seconds. She was smashing into the first guy in front of her with an elbow.

    Maeve was explosive, timing her attacks in a near perfect small circle. She had done this time and time again. Snap strike to the back of the neck, knee to the gut, before the last guy was slammed into the wall of the plane with his arm twisted behind him. One last smash for good measure, then he was on the ground as well. This part had gone decently smooth the last time too. Maeve's gaze flicked back towards the cockpit and she moved to head in that direction.

    The door was tightly shut. She could have man handled it open but there was suddenly a slight hesitation. Maeve remembered what Homelander had done next. Piercing into the cockpit with his laser eyes, taking out the pilot and the plane as well. That couldn't happen again. "Get it open and I'll go in. I'm bulletproof." She covered her hesitation by making it seem like she had been thinking, but she was still telling him what to do. Every second would count to make sure the oxygen would stay on.
     
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  5. Arthur Curry

    Arthur Curry DC Universe

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    From the way she moved, there was a part of him that wondered if she was maybe one of Princess D's sisters. Themysciran. But there wasn't time to zone out beyond that. The guys in the cabin were taken out in swift succession with still a bit over two minutes to spare. He frankly didn't know her from any one of the random Amazonian extras, but now wasn't the time for contrarian frat boy hotheadedness.

    Her proposal was sound, and she'd proven herself well enough. While the passengers continued to sit in hushed tension, some of them still fumbling with their masks, Arthur stepped forward, digging his fingers into the sides of the locked door and tore it outward. The extricated door ended up getting tossed right behind his shoulder in what could've been a haphazard mood, but he wasn't that reckless, and it landed on mark over the heads of one of the fallen douchebags with a thud.

    It was crowded inside: the pilot was slumped dead over the console with a hole in his head bleeding out over the controls. The co-pilot was still sweating and upright, albeit tied to his seat with a winding cable and had two guns pointed at his head.

    The two leftover hijackers immediately began shouting the instant the door gave, with something predictable, something basic and along the lines of "Get back or I'll fucking shoot!"

     
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  6. Queen Maeve

    Queen Maeve The Boys

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    He listened to her and Maeve was grateful enough to press a thin lipped smile together for his cooperation. He ripped that door off and Maeve was shooting inside of the cockpit in the next second. Her eyes were on the pilot's dead body and she felt something inside of her tighten. One down, one to go, and she still didn't know how to pilot a plane. Doubtful if anyone else would either. Chances of that were low, no matter how you looked at it.

    Her eyes took in the co-pilot and the two men with guns. She didn't feel like being nice to them because one bullet could ruin all of their days. But trying to be logical to someone who brought a gun on a plane in the first place? They were probably willing and ready to go down with the plane. Had to be, because shit could go wrong in a wealth of different ways.

    Instead of giving them time to really react, Maeve moved forward. While they were still full of bluster and before they could pull any triggers. Hopefully. The redhead grabbed the first one and threw him over her shoulder towards the man who had ripped open the door to the cockpit. The second one started to move his gun towards her but Maeve broke it in a very similar manner that her makeshift companion had. Then there was a left hook to the jaw and he went down hard. Maeve probably could have done that gentler but at least the man was alive. His jaw was broken though and the gun out of his hands, so that was all that really needed to be done. At least, as long as her not-Homelander had taken care of his problem. Maeve turned to look, hoping she wouldn't be finding another body there instead.

    The co-pilot was freaking out though so Maeve couldn't do much more than glance over her shoulder before placing a hand on the chair in an attempt to keep the man in there. "Find us the closest place to land. Come on." She wasn't exactly good at comforting others but that had never been her job. Homelander was the better actor and he was certainly good at hamming up situations. God, she really needed a fucking drink.
     
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  7. Arthur Curry

    Arthur Curry DC Universe

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    One of the dudes came flailing toward him, gun and all. Arthur caught him by the cuff of his shirt and smacked his head against the ridge of the doorway, knocking him out cold. All in all, the whole escapade took about a minute flat, when they had three of 'em the whole time! Not bad at all.

    Ducking his head so that he could enter deeper into the cockpit, he cleared his throat. "Hey, scusa, borrowing this." His hands reached for the cable wrapped around the poor hyperventilating co-pilot and tried to remove it as nicely as he could. There was a bit of a jerking motion nevertheless, in his haste, but soon Mr. Co-Pilot was 100% free to navigate his plane to a safe landing. Actually, with the vessel and its structural integrity all in one piece, and the threat of the oxygen getting cut off no longer being a thing.

    "You know," he started, as he set about dragging the goons toward the front of the plane, one-by-one and sometimes two-by-two and whatever the narrow aisle space allowed, to tie 'em all up and far and away from their guns. "I wouldn't be opposed to continuing on to destination. How far off are we? Forty-five minutes? Tops?" He lifted his brows to the co-pilot and the redhead, his shoulders rising in a shrug. "At least there'll be airport security."

    A pained yelp tore out of the broken jaw dude's... broken jaw as Arthur secured the man's wrists extra tight. With a specialty sailor knot.

     
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  8. Queen Maeve

    Queen Maeve The Boys

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    She had missed the cord. Which was probably why he was so panicked. Again, Maeve wasn't use to being in these situations outside of a certain company's reach. It was all so odd. Standing here in normal clothing, in a similar situation to the one she had been in before, without any of her normal back up. No cameras. No team. No Homelander. That seemed to be a very important part in all of this.

    Yet she found herself standing there and watching the man move about the cockpit. He was far more relaxed than she felt and Maeve hadn't realized that she had broken out into a cold sweat at this stage. Her part was over, her body was trying to calm down, and that meant all those negative emotions were flooding back inside. Time to come to terms with her problems, or at least that was what a healthy person might have done.

    Maeve stamped down on it, cluing back into the conversation as the big guy suddenly asked them a question about where they were supposed to go. Not that far off from where they were all supposed to be and Maeve's jaw locked slightly at the suggestion. But it was sound... sound enough. The redhead just didn't want to be in the sky for longer than she had to.

    "Doesn't matter to me then." Her answer was almost curt and to the point. She looked back at the pilot who was... well, that wasn't pleasant but it was best to not move the body unless they had to. Evidence and all that sort of thing. She took a breath and then a step backward, figuring she would let the other guy handle all of... this. He seemed to have everything under control anyways. "I'm going to check the tail end, just in case." And an excuse to get out of there. Would there be drinks in the back? Probably. If she raided the cart Maeve doubted anyone would ding her for it, not after she had just saved the goddamn plane.

    So the redhead stepped through the ruined doorway and started right back down the aisle, avoiding questions and other such things as she marched to the back. There was no one back there, the stewardesses were already helping calm everyone down but the cart was. Did she really need anything else? She drew the curtain closed and let herself slump slightly against a wall. It was alright. Everything was alright. No one else was dying and that was how things were supposed to go.
     
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  9. Arthur Curry

    Arthur Curry DC Universe

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    A crisis at sea was much easier to manage than a crisis in air. Maritime disasters—he didn't have to stew around in the aftermath. He could jump right off board the instant they were taken care of. That might've been hilarious coming from the guy who suggested staying the course instead of opting for an emergency landing, but he figured that'd be the least stressful option on average. Less uncertainty for the passengers and crew. Less waiting overall.

    But goddamn, it did make him that much more reluctant to hop back on flights for the foreseeable future. Now every pair of eyes was on him, them, whenever they passed by, imparting whispers and sometimes direct and enthusiastic messages of thanks even while he was hauling the gaggle of tied up douchebags into one of the back restrooms. It was a tight fit, probably unhygienic, but the way Arthur saw it they abdicated any right to comfort the moment they decided to hold the Pandora equivalent of a fully occupied Boeing hostage for whatever reason. He'd informed the stewardesses as much, and promised to hang close just in case.

    So now they were out of sight and out of mind, and aside from the dead pilot in the cockpit and the oxygen masks dangling awkwardly over every seat, things were... back to usual.

    He considered the back drinks station to be synonymous to hanging close, so he popped his head right under the curtain and beelined for the vodka. It was the company that made him hesitate for a split second, his eyes lingering on her for a curious heartbeat before moving past her toward the compact fridge. He assumed there were no problems with the tail end, so he made no mention of it.

    "I'm making myself a Bloody Mary," he proclaimed. "Want any?"

     
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  10. Queen Maeve

    Queen Maeve The Boys

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    Forty-five minutes. Could she last that long without having a bit of a break down? Maeve supposed it was possible. She wanted nothing more than to keep back here and keep some sort of... steady bit of thinking. Space from other people, so she wouldn't feel too much pressure, and really she hadn't felt like this in an age. It felt like it had been a decade ago when she had been more like Starlight than who she was that day.

    Then the curtains were suddenly moving as the big guy showed up again. Maeve didn't know why at first and her eyes cut to him carefully. As if she was wondering just who he was despite what had just happened. He looked... nothing like Homelander. He was taller and his build was bigger. Darker skin, hazel eyes, a full beard, and that hair was so downright unstyled it was almost like the man was anti-Homelander while still having similar abilities.

    Her eyebrows lifted slightly as he started towards the exact thing she had been planning on pilfering. A slight snort of a laugh left her but it was still tenser than what she would have liked. "If they've got the right stuff, gin martini. If not... anything will do." Maeve didn't want to sound too desperate but she did shift sides of where she was leaning so that she could keep a better eye on him. "Thanks for the help." Maybe that was the proper thing to do as well. Say thank you to someone who had actually worked with her despite the fact they didn't know each other.

    There was a glance back in the direction of the cockpit but then Maeve was leaning against a counter, eyes back on what he was doing. She needed that drink more than she wanted to say. Her hands still felt like they might have trembled if she let them relax from clasping them behind her back.
     
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  11. Arthur Curry

    Arthur Curry DC Universe

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    He rolled up the sleeves of his navy blue travel blazer up to his elbows, revealing the ta moko ink painted in patterns resembling shark teeth wrapping around his wrists. There were no scars on him either, aside from the old as balls one cutting across his eyebrow; typically his skin healed rapidly and without marks in the few instances something did manage to pierce him.

    Laying out the airplane's spartan supply of spirit and ingredients onto the counter in a handy little row, he shot back a mild-mannered grin over his shoulder. "Looked like you had it covered." She was pretty, with hair framing her face in a way that reminded him distantly of Mera. Except Mera's was an almost cartoonishly vivid red, a kind of saturation he'd thought was only possible in aliens and wigs before he met her. Or before he entered this dimension, realm where neon purple or bright pink were also accepted as natural hair coloring among some.

    "I'll see what can be done. Shaker's probably up front with first class service," he hedged with a slight knit of his brows as he rummaged through the nondescript metal compartments. A pungent odor like compost wafted briefly across the area before he nudged that particular compartment closed with a light kick of his boot and a clear of his throat. "That was the trash," he muttered with self-directed sigh.

    But Arthur did find a bottle of vodka that was almost empty. So he emptied it by pouring the contents into his own tumbler and turned the glass bottle into a sort of improv shaker. The fridge miraculously had a jar of olives, and the rest was history. Before long, he was handing the ginger her improv martini and resting back against the counter as he took a draught of his own drink. "...I am in no way, shape, or form a pro mixer," he felt inclined to inform her. A lackadaisical ease was his prevailing vibe, though with flickers of irritation for their company locked in the bathroom next door.

     
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  12. Queen Maeve

    Queen Maeve The Boys

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    The ink was interesting and something that Maeve didn't have. Her skin wouldn't allow anything to pierce it. Bullet and tattoo proof, basically. Not that the redhead had ever wanted one but tattoos were kind of rarer in her line of work. Her eyes might have lingered on it a touch longer than what might have naturally happened, but those sorts of details seemed to matter to her. Maybe because the last person she had tried to save a plane with was so goddamn different. Despite some similar skills.

    Maeve really wanted to stop thinking about Homelander all together. It was something that she had to actively work on because he had been such a part of her life that it was... just weird that he wasn't there now. She had to remember to breath. Remember to keep her thoughts straight. Having this kind of freedom was still damn foreign to her. It would take more than a couple of weeks for her to start to get comfortable with everything Pandora had to offer.

    There was a sudden snort of laughter at his attempt to be funny? At least it seemed like an attempted joke, because the smell was obviously linked to... it didn't matter. She was over thinking that too. He probably could tell that she was tense. Her eyes kept watching him, though there was the occasional glance towards the rest of the plane. As if she were trying to sense anything else that might have been wrong or that some of the passengers were still upset. Panic and sudden crowds causing trouble on a place like a plane? Not a good idea at all.

    Her lips thinned together when there was a thump from the bathroom. Had he just shifted or was the guy struggling? Didn't matter as long as Maeve was parked outside the bathroom. "Does it really matter right now?" She probably would have had a better hand at it since she always mixed her own drinks when no one else was around. But Maeve didn't feel like doing it. Her hands would have been much more visible if that had happened. "Were you a superhero back home?" Her tone didn't even skip over the word superhero. She was use to that term. She identified with it. Yet here she was on a plane in regular clothes. Funny how that worked.
     
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  13. Arthur Curry

    Arthur Curry DC Universe

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    Her discomfort could've been due to any number of reasons, and he wasn't in any hurry to guess. If he had any goal, maybe it was just to avoid exacerbating the problem while ransacking the plane's limited alcohol stash. Just because they stopped a hijacking together didn't mean it was suddenly Arthur's place to play therapist, but if he could ease the tension with some bland chatter, that wouldn't be so bad. Would've been pretty nice, even.

    Unable to resist a snort at her question, he shot off his reply over the curve of his plane-safe plastic tumblr, "According to Twitter, sure." Most of the ones who could be considered as such, back home—the League—sure as hell didn't start out with the intention of launching their series of action figures, or the rest of the glitz and glam people associated with the term. He wondered if any of them even saw a dime from the royalties. Probably Wayne. Definitely Wayne. "What about you? You're an..."—it took him a split second of pause to wrack his brain for one of the bigger names in the multiverse"Avenger?" Not from his own world; he gathered that much.

     
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  14. Queen Maeve

    Queen Maeve The Boys

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    Maeve wasn't sure the term he used. That sounded a little stupid to her. "Avenger?" Her sarcasm could be easily read in those words. But she supposed that was because she wasn't use to it. They hadn't been in her world. "We had the Seven." She was one of them but Maeve wasn't quite ready to make that straight association. "There were others, locals, but that was about it." Local superheroes and then the Seven. That was just how it worked in the United States.

    Superheroes weren't anywhere else either. God's chosen, supposedly. Maeve heard more movement in the bathroom which only suggested that their friend had not settled in like he was supposed to. Maeve made a slight noise under her breath and then slammed her fist slightly into the door. It made a startling sound but that was the point. She was startling the asshole inside as well as perhaps a few people on the plane. It was just the most direct way to take care of that problem.

    "Pandora seems to have its share of supes." The term just rolled off of her tongue but she leaned against the door of the bathroom and managed to get her hands to stop shaking now that she had a drink in hand. With something else on her mind, keeping the bastard from busting out of the bathroom and booze in her, it was easier for her to stay calm. It might have been going down a little quickly at first but that slowed the more she drank. Calmer now.
     
    #14 Queen Maeve, Sep 10, 2019
    Last edited: Sep 13, 2019
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  15. Arthur Curry

    Arthur Curry DC Universe

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    It was odd hearing the name supes being used to describe the entire class of super-powered individuals. He was used to Supes being just the one guy in blue, but every world had its own thing. Swishing his drink around, Arthur canted his head and eyes toward the thumping noises from the bulkhead separating them from the bathroom. But she had it covered.

    "We called them metahumans, but I didn't coin the term. Most of them just start showing up within the past decade and try to help, end up getting called superheroes by the outlets—others are more batshit," he hedged, his brow creasing again as he dwelled over the bat part of that word for a beat too long. The Seven sounded more or less like the equivalent of the League; then again, so did the Avengers from what he'd heard. He took another swig of his drink; it'd take a considerable deal more for him to start feeling the biochemical effects, but the familiar burning sensation traveling down his throat still managed to loosen his tongue.

    "So are there always seven?" he posed, raising his brows.

     
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  16. Queen Maeve

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    Metahumans was something different. Maeve had never been called one of those but it sounded a lot more clinical than superheroes. Considering the branding she thought it made a lot of sense. People wanted to be supes. They wanted the glamorous life of the Seven without ever knowing the truth. Maybe that was for the best. People would lose faith in so many things if they did. Or Maeve's fear of Homelander had morphed into something more logical and reasonable in her mind, just to deal with it.

    Maeve kept second guessing that part of her mind.

    There was a slight smile finally. Just one corner of her mouth curling slightly and a certain relaxing around her eyes that made it seem like she was a breath away from smiling. "No, there's way more than seven. The Seven are just considered the Seven best." Best for the company. "Or so it's suggested. It's a company thing." Maybe that was an easier way to explain it. Because that was what was advertised.

    She wanted to say that it wasn't what it was cracked up to be but there was something that held her back. Some sort of fear of letting her thoughts wander out just because she thought she was removed from Homelander here in Pandora. Just because she was... didn't mean that everyone was safe. Maeve glanced back up at the big guy, realizing that they had made these drinks and started talking without really introducing themselves.

    "Maeve." There was a slightly larger smile to go with her name, a slightly more friendly one, but she was quick to take another drink of her makeshift airplane booze. Only to find it was gone. This time the auburn haired woman moved to make her next drink, knowing two was probably going to be her limit until the plane touched down to safety.
     
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  17. Arthur Curry

    Arthur Curry DC Universe

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    Conversational norms still escaped him sometimes. He had bad habits carried over from an old life of being a transient who didn't bother with keeping up with tying names to the faces of those he'd passed by. He'd avoided asking questions, boxing his curiosities in because what was the goddamned point? Here, things were different. He was chattier more of the time, expressing warmth more readily and falling into actual tangents more frequently without caring about how stupid he came across, and sometimes the rhythm of those conversation distracted his attention from the most basic stuff. Like names.

    He was glad she gave it when she did; there was a tension in her that made him half-suspect she might not have given it so freely after all. And there was an enigmatic quality to a superpowered woman, ostensibly an experienced one, who was ill at ease in the satirically calm aftermath of a squashed hijacking attempt. But as he'd thought before, that could've been for any number of reasons. "Arthur," he nodded back with a slight crinkle to his eyes.

    His cadence was an easy one, with restive spaces between the gaps of his thinking especially while Maeve took to mixing her next drink. They had, what, a half an hour left before landing? Would the attendants call upon them to take their seats when the cute little seatbelt lights flickered on? From a muffled moan emanating from the wall that separated them from the lavatory, he liked to think nobody was gonna up and tell them to stuff their legs back into their seats anytime soon.

    So the next thought clicked belatedly and casually as he trained his curious, and a bit more skeptical, eyes back on her. "Hang on, did you say company thing?"

     
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  18. Queen Maeve

    Queen Maeve The Boys

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    Arthur. Nice, straight forward sort of name. She could only think of King Arthur, from the stories, and her name was actually her hero name. Not that anyone in Pandora knew that. It was just what she had always been called and it was something she would stick to until she decided otherwise. It wasn't like anyone in this dimension knew her actual name and in a way, she kind of liked that. It felt like a proper disconnect.

    There was a little bit of a laugh when Arthur asked about superheroes being a company thing. He wasn't the first to react like that, though it was still new enough to Maeve that she also found it weird. After all, in all the other worlds other people seemed to come from, none of them had superheroes managed by a company. "Yeah, it was... corporate. They patented the idea back when supes first started being born in the states. Superheroes have contracts with cities and specific gigs. There's different levels of celebrity..." She trailed off for a second while realizing what she was saying. She was speaking like an outsider when she had been part of the Seven for a long time now.

    "From everyone's reactions I've seen, that's not a normal thing in most worlds." Her smile was a little tight but then she kicked back that second drink. Two had been her limit and she was not going to cross that line. Maeve did glance in his direction because she wasn't going to be the only one talking about home. "Your turn." They still had plenty of time to kill.

    Maeve did make it a point to finish off her drink quickly and then set her "glass" into the trash bin where it was supposed to go. Two and done, because she didn't want to be a sloppy mess on a plane. She could do this. Twenty some odd minutes to go, right?