14497/Duel of the Flyers

Duel of the Flyers
Date of Scene:	25 March 2023
Location:	Somewhere between Gotham and Metropolis
Synopsis:	Firefly picks a very bad day to not only steal from the Wasp, but garner the attention of Captain Britain atop this. Also, seagulls make for sudden flight obstacles.
Cast of Characters:	Brian Braddock, Janet van Dyne

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Brian Braddock has posed:
Fwoosh!

Swish!

Zzzzzip!

Whiff!

Onomatopoeiac sound effect!

"GO THE HELL AWAY, LADY!!!!" yells the fire-limned personage on full retreat across the open waters separating Metropolis from Gotham. Firefly //thought// he was going to get away with an extra helping or two beyond his general paygrade. Nobody's going to notice that, right? Right?

Wrong.

The problem with being the sort to throw fire (because all problems can be solved with fire, right?) is that it draws attention...and frankly, it draws the kind of attention which can deal with said issue.

Enter the third party into this fiasco, his chest sporting the red cross of St. George and his jaw set. Captain Britain was thankfully done with lectures when he noticed the bright flares at a distance. Not normal; ergo, it requires a check-in.

"And in broad daylight. Bloody idiot," he mutters to himself on approach. Wait. Who's the other party involved here?

Janet van Dyne has posed:
A mass appears above Firefly and Janet lands heavily on the top of his jetpack, rodeoing the bandit. "Drop the product and I won't drown you in the harbor!" Janet shouts with a furious expression on her face. Firefly's rocket pack is great for fast acceleration across short distances, but when it comes to maneuverability, no one can keep up with the Wasp. He banks and rolls desperately in a blur of motion that sends Janet flying and then releases her at full arm extension. The superheroine vanishes a moment later and Firefly loses airspeed trying to stabilize his trim.

It's enough for Janet to catch up to him, her wings buzzing furiously, and she starts throwing dime-sized spheres of bioplasma from her tiny fingertips. Most of them miss but a few pockmark the rocket and Firefly's suit, leaving nasty cratered burns. Given the way his maneuvering thrusters are underperforming, it seems likely that Janet's opening salve on the other side of the water must have been to damage his rocket to hinder him.

Brian Braddock has posed:
"OW! OW! I DIDN'T DO IT!" Firefly insists as the little plasma balls impact his suit and the surface of his jetpack. "IT WAS BARNEY! BARNEY TOOK IT!" It doesn't seem to occur to the panicked man to put two and two together in terms of an Avenger demanding a very specific missing bundle or two.

Captain Britain pulls up a good two dozen feet or so back from the fray and continues keeping distance if only to listen. Product? Someone named Barney? Drowning? Drowning seems like a harsh edict for missing product.

In the flicker of an eye, there's the British hero, coming in to snag the back of Firefly's frizzling jetpack and hauling the unfortunate wretch away by dint of his own momentum. Cue a higher-pitched cry of surprise from Firefly before he's kept awkwardly in place off to Captain Britain's side at careless extension of arm.

"I'd love to know how this came to blows, but perhaps not over the water? The ferry's trying to cross and they've radioed the local coast guard in concern," he tells both Firefly and who he now recognizes to be The Wasp, his accent ever-crisp. His own hovering flight seems effortless and sans cape. Edna Mode would approve.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
The Wasp appears at about 3/4 size, cautiously standing on top of Firefly while she gauges just how strong Britain is. The faceplate of her helmet snaps open and retracts to reveal a scowl fixed on her pretty features.

"If he crashes into the ferry, the worst that will happen is that he breaks his neck and drowns," Janet snaps at Britain. "I've got this handled, and I don't need *your* help. I just need the evidence back." She leans sideways and hangs from Firefly's suit yoke with a firm grip. It's a little awkward to work one handed but she gets to the storage compartment under his jetpack and starts digging around inside of it.

"Firefly, I swear to god, if I get stabbed by something in here I'm going to give you a hundred-thousand volt handjob," she says, and pointedly channels a little electricity through her fingertips near his neck.

Brian Braddock has posed:
Even with the hood covering all but his fine cheekbones and down, Captain Britain evinces an excellent arched brow.

"I rather think you did require my assistance," he idly argues back at Janet as he watches The Wasp begin to rifle through Firefly's sub-jetpack stash. "He threw you as easily as a duck shakes a raindrop."

"LADY, I SWEAR I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING! I SWEAR! IT'S IN THE BAY! I DROPPED IT IN THE BAY!" the man insists to Janet at top volume, panic obviously evident as he tries squirming like a scruffed ferret. The threatening static doesn't seem to deter him: wriggle-wriggle-wriggle, as if he were trying to slip free of the jetpack's stubborn strapping. Thing is, the grip Captain Britain has on the jetpack means Firefly's going absolutely nowhere.

"You do know you'll hit the water at the same speed as one might hit concrete?" the Captain notes drily to Firefly. The wriggling suddenly stops. Instead, a weebling.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Don't you have teatime somewhere?" Janet tells Captain Britain with a peevish tone. She doesn't actually *refute* the statement, but she's clearly got a temper up and that sense of her finding everything disagreeable for the moment.

The Wasp looks in the compartment and makes a 'hah!' sound. "You lying son of a bitch, how stupid do you think I am?" she inquires of Firefly. She reaches into the pack and holds her hands there for a few moments, then extracts a pair of paper blocks the size of sugar cubes from the compartment and tucks them into a near-invisible pouch in her own bodysuit.

"You know, this outfit weighs like sixty pounds and it's not waterproof." Janet looks up at Britain with a lofted brow. "You let him go, he'll hit the water hard enough to knock him out. Glub glub glub, saving the taxpayers *tons* of money because he's buried at the bottom of the river," she suggests-- and idly starts tugging at the pack's restraints to loosen up his flying harness.

Brian Braddock has posed:
Boy, does that sense of an arched brow increase by a level of intensity.

Captain Britain continues holding the weebling Firefly in place while his stuttering insistence becomes revealed as lies. Now cue some near-real weebling. This rapidly rises back up to shouting as the Wasp begins fussing at the harness clips.

"NO, OH GOD, NO, DON'T KILL ME, PLEASE, IT WAS JUST TWO SQUARES! JUST TWO! BARNEY TOOK MORE!"

"Unacceptable." Yoink: Captain Britain neatly gains a dozen feet of space with his unfortunate (and now dizzy) capture, no doubt setting Janet to tumbling. "First of all, you're worldly enough to know better of teatime and its scheduling." That would be 'sheh-duling'. "Secondly, you have your evidence. There's no need for further threats." The Wasp gets a hard look. "We'll have to agree to disagree about your proposed treatment. The proper authorities will deal with him at this point, since I fully assume you intend to open a theft case?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet shrinks to something the size of a Barbie and flutters upwards to face Britain. "See-- this is what I don't like about tourists. You're sticking your nose into a situation that you don't understand. I'm not pressing charges because what he stole isn't mine, and the owner won't want the attention. /This/ problem child--" she swoops down and kicks the side of his helmet with a dainty foot-- "will keep his mouth shut about what he stole, because he knows what's good for him."

She flitters around to a stable landing point and buzzes her wings violently to shake off a little faerie cloud of condensation building on the delicate-seeming structures. "So if you're not going to drop him in, then just leave him somewhere where the cops will find him. I'm absolutely certain he's got warrants for something or another."

Janet zips up and traces a fast and angry little figure-8 and starts buzzing back to the other side of the river. Which promises to be a long and unpleasantly damp flight over in cold, still air-- but in her wake one can *almost* hear a tiny voice mumbling something about 'boy scouts'.

Brian Braddock has posed:
"OW!" A clip of sound from Firefly when Janet kicks his head, he cringing and half-covering his face like that would save him.

The Wasp continues to get the unseen if inescapably palpable eyebrowing from Captain Britain as she buzzes off towards the mainland. His sigh ghosts before his lips. "You got bloody lucky," he tells Firefly without a lick of amusement.

"Y-Y-Yeah, I know. Drop me off on land somewhere, please, sir?" Firefly begs. The way his jetpack is frizzling means he's out of other kinds of luck: the flying kind. As such?

Captain Britain leaves him clinging to a buoy where the coast guard can find him. "THIS ISN'T HELPFUL! YOU BASTARD!" the man yells at the hero's back.

"You'll be thankful later!" Captain Britain shouts back.

-- and how annoying for Janet. Swish: oh, look, the 'boy scout' in question catches up to her in the beat of a heart. He flies along beside her effortlessly. "What //did// he steal then?" the Brit inquires of the Wasp.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet *eeks* as Britain swoops up alongside her and tumbles a bit in the eddies of displaced air. "Woah! God damn, watch the turbulence!" she protests, and her arms and legs flail a little. It takes her a few seconds to stabilize her flight and she banks up and around and lands firmly on Brian's upper back, just behind his head. Just at the edge of his peripheral vision she can be seen sitting back on one foot and propping her arms out behind her for support.

"Why do you want to know?" Janet says in a rhetorical tone. "He took something that wasn't his. I got it back. It'll go where it needs to go. I thought you were just here on cultural exchange anyway, what are you doing this far out of New York?"

Brian Braddock has posed:
There's a portion of Brian which sorely wonders what would happen if he pulled a sudden barrel-roll to toss the Wasp now seated where she is so familiarly. No warning. Just the barrel-roll. Maybe he can blame a nonexistent seagull.

The urge passes under the pat-pat soothing of his moral compass.

He does, however, pull up at a slow enough rate that Janet could rearrange her lean. Now hovering vertically, completely at ease, he rolls his eyes to the side as if this might let him see his impromptu passenger.

"Being a tourist and sticking my nose into situations I may not understand, clearly," he replies drily to Janet, the smirk heard in his words. "That, and a little bird told me about a firefight going on over the water. It wasn't exactly a subtle spat."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet seems completely unreprentant about her position and sits down on a line of muscle with her legs neatly crossed. Her black and gold bodysuit makes a decorative little addition to the colors of the Union Jack.

"It would have been fine," she says with a breezy confidence. "He's a scumbag but he's a survivor. If he drowns, great, we're down one more career criminal. Gotham's criminal justice system is a revolving door. As it is he'll get arrested and maybe we were far enough across the river that the Coast Guard or Harbor Control will charge him. A little time in a Federal Pen will do him good, and he'll lose that illegal-ass jetpack."

Brian Braddock has posed:
"I took into account the distance across the river. This time, Gothan won't have jurisdiction. He'll be appropriately charged //rather than drowned.//" Captain Britain clips out curtly. This time, he turns his head that Janet might get the full effect of a disapproving blue-eyed glance. It might annoyingly similar to one she's seen before from another face at another time and with far less good-natured buffering.

Again, the sudden urge to blame a witless seagull passes through his mind.

No. No, not yet. Not yet.

"I meant to note, I'm headed back to Gotham. Are you headed there as well or shall I drop you off elsewhere?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Gotham's fine," Janet says with a casual indifference. "As long as I can get back to Jersey. Flying through the city's a lot easier than over the river. Just a lot of cold, dead air on the water." With her arms propped behind her it almost looks like she's just hanging out on the ferry, watching the river commerce pass by as the make the crossing.

She peers behind them and leans forward, then looks at Britain quizzically. "How -do- you fly, anyway?" she asks. "Is it like Carol, where it's just gravitymetric whatevers, or is there some invisible thruster jet I can't see?"

Brian Braddock has posed:
Brian shrugs. Gotham it is.

"Like Captain Marvel? No, not at all," the current Captain in question replies as he slips in flight motion again. It means shifting to horizontal, body streamlined as he picks up speed without gaining too much of it in turn; more than anything, it allows him to be easily heard still. He seems to have zero issue with the premise of 'cold, dead air'. "My abilities come from a realm beyond this world. Flight is simply one of them. I would categorize the source as...metaphysical at heart."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Oh, so it's magic. Great," Janet exhales. "Oh well, I can commiserate with Sam about wind patterns still, I guess," she remarks. "Flying's a lot of work for me. The caloric expenditure is crazy, I'm going to have to hit a drive through and eat a bowl of greasy food just to get the hunger under control." She makes a tiny face.

"Plus weather patterns, thermals, turbulence, crosswinds, you name it. My daughter uses an exoskeleton with artificial wings. Sometimes I think she's got it right, just use a small arc reactor and you only have to recalibrate it once every few weeks."

Janet looks over at Britain's temple. "How about you? Any kids?"

Brian Braddock has posed:
At this speed, the Captain has to leave his face forwards to keep close track of potential issues. Seagulls can become more than excuses for impromptu barrel-rolls quickly at this speed. It means he can't look over at his passenger; he makes no effort to hide his little smile nonetheless.

"I never underestimate sudden wind shear even if I may need nothing more than my usual supper when all is said and dine. Perhaps some crahachan as well," he amends. "Your daughter does seem to have found a way around a number of issues with her artificial wings -- and no, no children myself. I was unaware that you had a daughter...?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Yep. She just turned eighteen," Janet tells Brian. The numbers there don't *quite* add up, and Janet doesn't look to be inclined to explain the discrepancy. "Her name's Nadia. Goes by Waspette? She's got her own Instagram account now," Janet says, as if that's remotely helpful to the scholarly Brit. "She runs a subsidiary of Pym Technologies called GIRL. They study everything. Biology, astronomy, engineering, physics... she built a spaceship, too, last year. First person since Richards to build a warp-capable vessel. Now she's basically Earth's diplomat to, uh, wherever that planet is. What is it..? Raan," Janet adds, and slaps a tiny hand down for emphasis. "She's on the Reserve Roster for the Avengers. You'll probably run into her sooner or later."

Brian Braddock has posed:
The numbers definitely don't add up. Again, Captain Britain's hood hides the deep wrinkling of those brows in passing before he smooths his face to attentive neutrality.

"Waspette," he echoes. "And the first since Richards to build such a vessel. Your daughter's a power-house. I look forward to meeting her then. She seems to share your drive for success in her areas of interest and expertise. Mind the bird." Not the gap.

//DODGE//, a sudden one, with Janet stopped from sudden seat-loss by the Captain bringing up an abrupt hand to act as pillowing as he executes an actually-necessary barrel roll to avoid a flock of seagulls. Chaos, avoided.

"As you were saying?" the Brit prompts after they've leveled out.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet yelps and tumbles inside Brian's cupped hand. A variety of creative and hard-to-hear expletives flow from the Wasp as she gets battered around, and finally she pushes Brian's fingers apart enough to slide back out onto his shoulder below the windstream shear.

"I think I was saying that now I'm *really* sure I screwed my hip up," Janet says sourly, and rubs the outside of her leg a few times with a tiny palm. "Goddamn seagulls." The Wasp watches the shoreline approaching and once they're over the Gotham docks, she slips off Brian's shoulder and starts buzzing on her own power. A warm wave of heat coming off the city below seems to be perking her up a bit.

"I can get home from here," she tells Captain Britain. "I'll make sure to tell Firefly to write you a thank-you letter for saving his life," she adds, and flips over in midair a few inches from his well-hewn features. "Could be a total bromance in the making." She flips again and starts abruptly losing altitude, headed towards a large number of undescript, identical warehouses.

Brian Braddock has posed:
Captain Britain doesn't seem overly concerned about the grumping on display. He suspects that like most Avengers, Janet will be fine with a day or two of rest -- if she'll allow herself this. Once they're over solid ground and the rise of trapped heat from concrete, he pulls up vertically again to hover effortlessly.

Not a lick of thanks from the Wasp. Instead, the sass. It makes Brian pull an obvious close-lipped smile, this time clearly visible. "Such jealousy," the Brit says only //barely// loudly enough to risk being heard. "But...all's well that ends well, I suppose." It's the knowledge of an impending lecture which has him averting from following the Wasp down into the graveyard of warehouses. Instead, turning on a dime, the Brit continues onwards into and over the city, no doubt to change back into his civilian clothing for the sake of more learning.