5993/1000 Faces: Down Into Darkness

1000 Faces: Down Into Darkness
Date of Scene:	20 April 2021
Location:	Miami, Florida
Synopsis:	Flight SU 110 lands -- but 290 people and more are dead in the process. SHIELD somehow isn't responsible.
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Lance Hunter, Tommy Shepherd, June Moone, Daisy Johnson, Koga Miura, Melinda May
Tinyplot:	1000 Faces of Death

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Jane Foster has posed:
Someone tell Florida it's not summer. Blue skies and warm breezes are practically picture perfect for someone coming from chilly, grey Russia. Aeroflot's long Moscow to Miami flight is due to land at the airport around 4:00 PM, though she is characteristically late. 15 minutes, which the Arrivals board in the terminal dutifully flicks over to update. Nothing indicates anything is wrong except for a bank of emergency services vehicles idling on a taxiway in larger numbers than normal. But the average passenger wouldn't really notice.

It's chaos from Virginia to the Bahamas as military radar pings furiously off the large white Airbus 350. Air traffic controllers pass ominous messages to one another, helplessly pinging messages to satellites that fail to reach a human on SU 110. Their radar shows the airliner and almost three hundred souls serenely turning for the final approach to Miami International Airport. The broad arc turns the plane directly to downtown's towers and high rises that stud the flat landscape in glass and steel webs.

Aboard the Quinjet, all signs show nothing is wrong: the pilots didn't announce an emergency, systems seem functional. SU 110 broadcasts information only to satellites automatically, handshaking every 15 minutes. Its flight path sweeps in a lazy arc, still high level, though 25,000 feet can become 0 feet in an alarmingly short period of time.

Meanwhile, in the terminal, many people prepare for domestic and international flights. They rush here and there, nothing new. Security is all snarled up, and the baggage claim area for Aeroflot manned by two very sleepy local employees playing a Russian equivalent of Words With Friends.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter is kitted up in tac gear plus one of those wing suits extreme sports enthusiasts sometimes use. "This is definitely the worst part of SHIELD going dark, we have guys for this, bloody Avengers like Falcon, Captain Marvel and Warmachine but nope, here we are checking out this plane with not all that much we can do about it if it's properly bolloxed up.

He double checks his weapons and then fires off a quick text to Bobbi before he bends to look out the windscreen. "At least we're cloaked, this would be all sorts of fun with the Airforce on our tail."

Tommy Shepherd has posed:
Recently freed and bound only by a regular check-in with a case worker in NYC, Tommy decided to take some liberties and go for a nice jog down the east coast at somewhere around seven hundred miles per hour. After about an hour and a half, this landed the teenager in Miami scoping out the sights.

After kicking up sand on a couple of beaches, Tommy found himself laying up on his back staring lazily at the sky. That's when he noticed the plane just circling, soon followed by others. He wasn't an air traffic control expert, so at first he ignored the phenomenon. However, soon, like many repetitive things, it began to wear on his nerves. "What the hell is going on? How is a guy supposed to work on a tan with all these tin-can buzzing around?"

That's when he finally noticed the jumbo starting to veer toward downtown. "Okay that's weird."

In a puff of sand, Tommy is gone and zipping along at ground level directly below the A350. He effortlessly weaves in between ground traffic and pedestrians. At some point he 'acquired' a cup of coffee sipping from it, avoiding the lipstick that's not his on the lid.

June Moone has posed:
Vacation. After the past few weeks that June has had, one was needed. Not to mention, she had just earned her keep as a teaching student in retrieving an artifact for the Professor. Something that the person believed to be dating back to the Roman Empire; though she was sure that it wasn't such. June leans against the window of the airport, her phone out, swiping up and down on various news sources. Nothing too important. The Kardashians gotten into another fight over a pair of shoes and the importance of peanut butter. Someone ingested GermX because they had a deadly disease because it read 99% to kill germs. M&S is suing Aldi's over the caterpiller cake with memes to follow, so on and so forth...

But it's whats happening outside that gains her attention. Phone was slipped into her pocket then as both hands press against the window, nose near to the surface as she looks up. "Oh.. oh no... don't you fu--.."

And in a plume of black smoke, the young woman disappears.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
SHIELD may have gone dark. But it doesn't mean they aren't keeping tabs on what's going on out there. Specially disasters like this one. And when a signal for an emergency comes up on military channels? It's time to act. The Quinjet was scrambled up, Marisol on piloting duty along with Davis. Of course that Daisy grumps though. She wants to pilot! But with all that's been going on her learning of it has been put on hold. Ah well! But all in due time.

Instead she is in the back with the rest of the Agents. "Alright. We got indication that this is the real deal. So no danger of this being a trap of some kind." because there were those going around for SHIELD!

"First things first, we need to figure out what's going on." She looks at Koga, "Can you check on comms to see if we can reach the plane? See what the emergency is about?" She asks.

She adjusts her own tac gear on, a glance to Lance. "Is this your way of saying that you want wings too?" a brow arching up.

Koga Miura has posed:
Koga, already in the back and not wearing tactical gear other than a helmet, nods at Daisy. He heads over to the radio and picks it up. Meanwhile, he tries to get a view of the cockpit of the jet from where they are, using his enhanced vision to peer at it.

"SU 110, this is control. Please state the nature of your emergency. Over." He says into the coms.

Of course, the question for his fellow SHIELD agents will probably be... can he fly? Monster form definitely has no wings!

All the while he is trying to get a view on the cockpit, and calls up to the pilot's seat, "Move us so I can get a clear view into the cockpit, please. Carefully. That flight path looks like it may be headed for downtown."

Jane Foster has posed:
Everybody wants wings but not everyone can fly... like that Aeroflot. Signs of wrongness emerge like a collapsing barn. The lights blinking on the tips of the Aeroflot indicate that certain safety features still function. Its looping flight path should come with some kind of slowdown brought about by a complex sequence of checks by the cockpit crew. The wings glimmer on a mild banking turn, presumably lining up to some distant runway.

As those in the Quinjet might see via telemetry and readings, the plane isn't slowing down. Flaps don't extend and the landing gear hasn't dropped, signs that would signal the final descent. But why has it just shaved off 3,000 feet in such a space? Apparently that /is/ a landing protocol. The route swinging over Miami thus will test Thomas' ability to keep up, running down streets and crossing the occasional ornamental retention pond.

Other planes keep circling at all flight levels, making the Quinjet's pilots twist and turn with uncommon stress. "Every flight level is occupied. We aren't a helicopter, Agent Miura, you are lucky I can even get you this close to the beach," Marisol's teeth are clenched, and the shifts in G-force are a bit higher than usual despite her best efforts. Better hold on, agents. Captains chatter on the bands assigned for non-emergency use, commentary sharp and sweet.

"What the hell are they doing? Ditching on the beach?"

"Maybe they're going to Havana? I've got to land in the next hour, or we're diverting to Pensacola."

"Alpha Niner-Zero-Zero, keep this channel clear for broadcast!" scolds a very frazzled air traffic controller. In the background, a dim murmur: "Jesus... You catch the wobble? ... Think... Disengaged?"

Lance Hunter has posed:
"I mean, wouldn't hurt would it?" Hunter says, before spreading his arms. "Better than having to look like Rocky the flying squirrel," he says as the material of the suit stretches from ankle to wrists on both sides.

He peers out the window again seeing the plane's nose dip sharply, far too sharply for any sort of safe landing.

"Bloody hell," he says, "That thing is going down," he says then looking to Daisy he says, "Feel like trying to fly one of those?" he asks nodding at the jet before heading towards the back. "Marisol, try to get us as close as you can."

June Moone has posed:
The black cloud of smoke manifests atop of the aircraft itself. Toe tip upon the nose balancing, obscuring the view of the cockpit with the show of her rear which is prominent due to the bend of her waist. Enchantress, devilish woman, plants her hands upon her hips, her head cocking to try to survey what -exactly- was going on within, before she stands upright, now planting both bare feet flush against metal.

"You were going to swear, weren't you June." She says aloud. "Listen, I am -only- here to save your life. You live, I live. So it's a must that I investigate this flying metal box of doom to ensure -your- safety."

She walks up the nose, hands now drawn behind her back to lace fingers as she inspects. The black smoke appears again, descending into the middle of the economy row, right onto a fallen travelers back. "Ope.." She mutters, stepping down from the poor soul, bending to grab them by the collar to drag which causes the shirt to rip. Seeing at least -one- seat open nearby, she properly flings the person onto it, all so that she could continue her examinations.

"Is everyone dead?" She asks aloud, finger reaching out to poke a cheek. The passengers' head lolls, in which Enchantress moves on towards the service portion of the cabin. The stewardesses were in their seats, strapped in, great. But there was no clear signs of wakefulness. "Shame.."

Oh well! A cabinent top was opened and a glass pulled out, a drawer snatched open so that a few of the tiny whiskey bottles retrieved. Enchantress wobbles a little, attempting to keep her balance as she unscrews the tiny tops, flicking them with her finger to pour the contents into the glass.

Tommy Shepherd has posed:
Tommy finishes his coffee and deposits it a trashcan as he continues to zip around under the A350. Casually, he scans his surroundings. Squinting, he comes up with a very bad idea that sounds amazingly cool to a teenager. He's just about ready to wall-run up the side of a building to launch himself at the A380 when something nags at him.

One... two...three...four, Fusions? All rented from the same local car rental, barreling down a route that seems to intersect with the direction the Jumbo is heading. He vocalizes "Hello" only to get a bug in the back of the throat, causing him to retch. He steals someone's water bottle to fix that problem and then is abruptly next to one of the vehicles. He peeks in one. ZIP. Peeks in another. ZIP. Going down the line and staying on the move, he attempts to case out the situation without standing still long enough to be easily noticed.

Jane Foster has posed:
Marisol makes a patently unhappy noise when Lance gives her instructions. Pulling on the tethered straps holding her in place, she flicks several switches and earns an angry blare from a hidden claxon. "Roger, make immediate approach to SU one-one-zero. Please grab something, turbulence off this big boy is going to make our ride awful shaky." Phrasing! She swings the cloaked jet nearer and practically swears up a storm when a black, inky shape takes form on the /top/ of the descending jumbo jet. Only a lot of training and the threat of a smack to the back of her head stops her from a more severe reaction. A couple precious seconds pass before she can plot in a course that the Quinjet keeps screaming at her for, but she overrides the navigation prompts, hands on the yoke to swing them uncomfortably close to a big white missile pointed straight into a heavily-populated city.

She's not humming Highway to Hell. Not at all. Except she totally is.

Koga Miura has posed:
Koga shakes his head as he looks out the window. He looks carefully, then looks over to Daisy and Lance. "The flight crew has oxygen masks on. Whatever is happening, the passengers do not know about it. There is something... odd about it, but I can't tell from this distance. Like they are too calm, and not moving."

The idea of the plane going down has Koga shaking his head. "Great... well... show time, I guess."

He looks to Daisy and Lance, "Want me in human or monster?" He asks as he puts his helmet on, to preserve his identity. He moves to be ready for whenever whatever the plan is to get aboard the plane.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
The continued no-response out of the airplane brings Daisy's expression to turn to a frown. Whatever is going on seems they will only figure out *when* they are inside. But first things first.

Time to get inside.

She nods at Lance. "As long as we all come out alive I don't mind looking like some flying squirrel.." and it seems she doesn't catch the reference! A glance to Marisol. "Close enough that we can get that connecting tube on." so they don't blow up the other plane from decompressure!

Yellow-tinted goggles are finally put on, knuckles cracked and she looks at both Lance and Koga. "Alright. Lets do this." a firm nod to both Lance and Koga, just to transmit some confidence before she nears the cockpit. "Marisol, when we connect just stay enough time for us to get on and then disconnect again. We can get out by other means if needed." parachutes! And .., flying squirrel outfits. "Alright .., keep it steady..."

And as the connecting tube joins in with the airplane she moves out through it and towards the door. A hiss is heard as the door starts to open up to give entrance to the Agents of SHIELD.

As for Koga's question. "Go human." And then they start getting into the plane.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Really need to make you watch Rocky and Bullwinkle sometime," Hunter quips to Daisy as the connector is being set up. Once it's on, Hunter steps up beside Daisy, ICER raised as they move towards the plane. "What do you figure, Koga and me'll sweep the plane for hostiles and you go grab the controls?" he asks Daisy about their game plan.

June Moone has posed:
"Where do they keep the ice.." Enchantress murmurs to herself, head dipping this way and that. Draws were rattled, she even looks up towards one of the 'quiet' stewardess' to point towards a drawer, receiving no feedback what-so-ever. "Useless.." She mutters, finally finding her target, a few cubes here.. tossed into the glass there.. beautiful!

Tommy Shepherd has posed:
Catching a whiff of rotting and decaying plant matter causes Tommy to pinch his nose and offer a whining groan that's muffled by the rushing air. What the hell are these guys transporting? Well, only one way to find out.

Darting amongst all four of the Fusions, he tries their door handles. In a matter of seconds, there's a series of CLICK. CLICK. CLICK as each is found to be locked, and the finally on the forth, the door swings up.

"Pardonmejusthavetoknowwhatthatsmellyshitis." A duffle bag is grabbed off the back seat and the door is quickly slammed shut.

Stepping off to the side, he quickly unzips the duffel bag and is greeted with the fresher aroma of bog moss, bundled dried herbs, owl pellets, a really annoyed worm that Tommy decides to quickly deposit in a nearby flowerbed because didn't hurt anybody, and a dead mouse. (There's nothing he can do for that poor critter).

Last, he retrieves a wooden mask. He inspects it from all angles. "Okaaay... Is this related to the plane?" He hums and looks back up to the Jumbo, reconsidering his original plan.

Koga Miura has posed:
Koga looks over at Daisy, "Can you evern fly a plane?" He asks as he waits for the tube, then moves to get inside. Unlike the others, he's unarmed. Probably because he is a weapon in most cases.

Once inside, he sticks low to avoid possible gunfire at least. The entire situation stinks, but he does move to get a view up front, the visor to his helmet raised so he can and try to figure out what is going on. Hopefully!

Jane Foster has posed:
"You've got to be kidding me." Marisol clutches the yoke and the Quinjet hits a rough patch of air streaming off the descending airliner. The city definitely looks bigger than it did before. With the plane moving at obscene speeds and dropping a thousand feet on an uncontrolled dive, she has to force the shaking plane into the shadow of the bigger one, staying ahead and above of the four engines chewing air and releasing huge plumes of superheated exhaust. "Boarding party, look out for... Smoke. Some smoke?" she warns.

The SHIELD agents come aboard ahead of the wing, not that far from first class and the cockpit. Business class and its load of nicely-dressed, inert passengers without oxygen masks await them.

Aboard the Aeroflot, the interior is strangely quiet until a slinky tube slams onto the side of the plane or metal claws pierce the skin. Passengers strapped in across the many rows in economy stay slumped when the Enchantress glides past. Her hurled passenger lands heavily like a ragdoll, sliding down a seat. A few of them she explores have weak pulses, weak breaths fluttering.

An oxygen mask and tank is tangled up with netting beside a stewardess strapped in to a jumpseat.

A crewman slumped near the door ot the cockpit carries something beneath him, and a mark on his neck peeps above the collar of his uniform. Black swirls curve over an oblong shape, obscured by the fabric.

Deep on the ground, Tommy has himself a fancy, horrific mask. Carvings make it look like withered leather or tree bark, though the mouthpiece has very sharp teeth. Easy to cut himself. The plane keeps getting lower and lower, except now there's a slinky on the door that vanishes after a bit.

Lance Hunter has posed:
So much for the plan!

Hunter is the first to step through to the plane and when he does he sees that body fly. His ICER comes up and he swivels towards the Enchantress. "Whoa, take it easy there, and tell us just who the bloody hell you are and what you're doing here."

His attention remains fixed on June counting on Koga and Daisy to watch his back. He's got no mask to keep out the smoke though.

Tommy Shepherd has posed:
Tommy frowns in disapproval at the terrible aesthetic of the mask in his hand. Everyone is an art critic right? The world is full of way too many magical terrors to assume this is harmless. He looks between the mask and the convoy of fusions in a very brief moment of analysis paralysis. "What to do... What to do..."

When in doubt, create a little chaos. These people look like total thugs, and they've got bags full of creep things. This all smells of bad intentions... and bog.

Tommy darts after the convoy, takes a slight detour in a nearby cafe to steal a knife, and then reemerges next to the fourth fusion. He then goes down the line and proceeds to slash all the tires.

It's a very reckless act. Perhaps not the wisest move for the sake of innocent bystanders. Fortunately, Tommy recognizes this enough to spend the next critical dozen seconds giving vehicles the right nudges to avoid an out right disaster. It seems as if all the driver side windows shatter simultaneously, spraying glass with Tommy carefully avoids while he tugs on steering wheels. In his accelerated perception, its a careful orchestration that's quickly growing out of control. For those in the Fusions, it's one wild ride!

June Moone has posed:
Not a sip was taken just yet. June was busy, busy swirling the ice around the glass so that the liquor within could chill as her eyes suddenly pop open. They snap shut immediately, feeling the array of magic that she had missed before.. or.. quite possibly ignored or ignited due to the arrival of a few persons. "Huh."

She boosts herself by the hip away from the counter top she was near, moving out into the hallway and..

Take it easy?

She turns slowly towards Lance, Daisy, and Koga, her lip curling slightly and..

"Why? Shouldn't you lot be more worried about the plane?"

He didn't tell her to NOT move, and she did want to keep a good vantage point of things. A hand was lifted just so that the belt buckle of the sleeping stewardess unlatches, and as Enchantress turns to move in that area, she grips the poor sleeping womans shoulder to shove her out of the chair, where the witch settles upon it as if it were her throne.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
The scene they come into has Daisy quirk a brow. Something isn't right here. People are dead? Unconscious? A nod is given to Lance, "Yes, lets do that. Secure it while I go for the cockpit." as for Koga's question she grins. "I can. Been training to fly the quinjet for a while now." no need to say that the training is on hold!

Yet with the body being tossed about she looks towards the Enchantress, brows furrowed. There goes that idea of dashing towards the cockpit. But soon enough. First .., time to figure out if this is a friend or foe.

"We are .., military agents. Here to stop the plane from crashing." she tells the other woman. Not SHIELD agents! Nope! Not at all! But she's also right, they need to get the plane up and flying again. Which brings about the decision to "Keep her on your sights. Figure out what's going on here. I am headed to the cockpit.." as they arranged before getting into the plane. She weaves past the passenger seats, making way towards the front, a glance to the various rows of inanimate people.. Dead? She speaks through comms. "Can you check if these people are still alive?" she asks. Then to Marisol. "You can unhook the tube now. We will take it from here. Good job, Sol."

Koga Miura has posed:
Koga's eyes widen behind his helmet. He says to the other two, "Watch the passengers. I've seen this before. Consider them hostile possibly if they move."

He takes off quickly, uncaring if anyone sees him at the moment as he heads straight for the cockpit. First thing's first is getting the plane to level out. And that's where Koga is headed. He does keep an eye on either side and around him for possible movement as he makes his way forward. The only crazy thing is that now that he recognizes the signs, he knows what to possibly look for.

He does comment towards the Enchantress, "I hope you didn't cause this, because if you did we will be having words." And that's as he passes to head up front. He's got Daisy's back if the passengers turn out as he thinks it is. "The last ones I saw like this tried to run me over and were involved in a gang war. Could be linked."

Melinda May has posed:
"Just get me up there," May growls into her comm to the pilot of the cloaked SHIELD fighter scrambled out the Playground when the plane passed into US airspace. She wasn't with the Quinjet -- otherwise, she'd be at the controls, not Marisol. That's a given. But the fighter can make the flight between Delaware and southern Florida in less than 45 minutes, less than 30 when it's pushing its engines to the max, as it is now.

The fighter comes up on the QJ's tail, the pilot, Davis, radioing to the SHIELD agent in the cockpit, "QJ zero two this is STRIKE alpha one. I have STRIKE command on board. Prepare for transfer."

"Roger that," comes Marisol's voice. She then relays to the team aboard the Aeroflot, "Hey, guys. The Cavalry's here. Gonna delay disengaging the tube."

A soft growl sounds over the comms in response to that. "Don't call me that." May reaches forward to rap lightly on Davis' flight helmet. "Hang back and assist," she tells him. Then: "Deploying in three... two... one." The rear half of the fighter's canopy retracts and her body shoots out forcefully, whipping high over the tail and contrail of the fighter. In mid air, she spreads her arms and legs, thruster driven wingsuit engaging. Not remotely like Mockingbird's wings -- now that she knows how to play with them -- but it'll do for what she needs here. She rolls in the air, thrusters firing as the canopy on Davis' fighter reseals itself behind her. "Open up that hatch, QJ," she tells Marisol. "Incoming."

Thus, it's barely two minutes later that the veteran pilot is rolling onto the Quinjet's ramp and redeploying through the connector tube, into the plane itself.

As she steps through the hatch, she looks around to assess the situation. "Somebody get me into that cockpit."

Jane Foster has posed:
On the ground, four cars spin out of control and crash into the curbs. One Fusion smashes into a parked vehicle. Another veers past a cafe entrance and stalls out in a lot, smacking into a cement-wrapped light stand. The driver manages to extricate himself from the airbags, his track suit dusty and dappled in blood. His friends might not be so lucky, caught in a crumpled cage where doors won't open. Tommy's efforts might be unsung for those fighting the descending plane headed to the ground at crisis speeds and angles, but a sheet of broken glass and smoking rubber loops his signature in courageous loops.

The mask in his hand simply feels wrong. Something about it holds a sticky, heavy presence.

Aboard SU 110, the sheer length and breadth of the plane is impressive. Absent the signs of a struggle, passengers might just be sleeping on their twelfth hour in flight. The only problem is the tilt of the plane itself, nosedown and sinking faster as the thickening air in the lower atmosphere counters the narrowing lift on the wings. None of the comforting shudders accompany landing gear coming down. It pulls heavily as the wings skew, one degree every few seconds, sliding higher and further to make walking to the cockpit door increasingly more of a slide. Beyond the windows, the downtown spires yaw up wildly and the sky appears outside the other. Miami is flat. Not like mountains would be on display.

As for said cockpit, the reinforced door is almost certainly locked and two people -- crew and stewardess -- are piled up ahead of it. Hard to know if they're even alive, but they do make for a bothersome barrier. Daisy has a quicker time of trying to get there before the havoc really starts, knocking her around. The shuddering of the exostructure will make it that much harder to break it down. Koga has to fight for his footing in her wake, threatening to be flung into seats. Lance better hold on hard. A jolt runs through the plane, shaking its whole body, throwing loose debris free and scattered over the ground. Paper flutters in the air. The overhead compartments rattle, and somewhere, a precious bottle of vodka breaks. The Enchantress' secure throne rocks and she's bounced against the bulkhead.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Lance grabs hold of a seat as the plane rocks even so he ends up on his ass in the aisle. Getting up, he nods to May, "Just in time," he says. "Koga and Daisy are in the cockpit, but we're going to have a better chance of living if you're on the stick," he says shifting to let the woman pass. "I'll be keeping whoever the hell this is company back here,": he nods to the Enchantress, lifting his ICER again. "Plane's handled, now how about you make things nice and easy and surrender?"

Tommy Shepherd has posed:
Tommy looks down at the mask and visibly shudders. "Okay, I'm gonna have to find some woogy-expert to deliver this too, but first thing..."

He looks up at the A350 as it gets closer to the ground. His eyes nearly bug out of his head when he sees someone eject and then disappear into what must be a cloaked vehicle. "Good guys or bad guys... Well, only one way to find out!"

Then begins the start of his very BAD idea. He holds onto the mask as he makes a bee-line toward a building in the flight's path. Arriving at the base of the edifice, he uses his forward momentum to adhere himself to the wall as he begins to run... up at a few hundred miles per hour. Mentally, he psyches himself up, "Alrighty Tommy... No.. you are Speed! You've got this. If you miss, its a hard landing but hey... you've survived worse. Got to give it a shot. How else do you become an Avenger?"

The building's height quickly runs out as runway for the launch. Tommy soars. "Okay... aiming looks good. Didn't over shoot.. Oh maybe I did."

He find himself on a trajectory that leading the plane, gradually slowing done. Not an master of physics, what happens next is a mixture of both good and bad luck.

His momentum pitters out with him just a little bit above the plane, and a football's field too far ahead of it. "Shit."

He begins to freefall, his eyes widening as the plane rapidly approaches. "Oh no.. NO NO NO NO." He flaps his arms wildly, but he's no bird. Fortunately, he's highly resistant to impact forces as he splats on the A360's nose, arms and legs splayed in a daze. "Now... I know what the bug felt like."

Jane Foster has posed:
A very loud crunch -- like something moving quickly impacting a brick wall -- emanates from the cockpit. The A350 is already full of sound but the sudden wail of the wind vibrates in the narrow chamber and pulls the reinforced door tighter into the frame as some kind of vacuum drags it in. Two distinct thumps follow, as the rising decompression takes effect and slams a body into a wall. Yay for wearing seatbelts as no one is sucked out. A glass panel goes hurtling past the wing to end up embedded in someone's swimming pool in roughly four minutes, perfectly visible as a twisted, contoured metal frame and shiny translucent panels going end over end. Good times!

June Moone has posed:
The rattling of the plane increases which makes the throne that Enchantress' makes moot. She bounces all over, her drink sloshing and landing upon her arm, the glass soon tossed aside in a fit of annoyance as both arms lift, palms upward, so that she could levitate where she is. Legs were soon curled so that she could sit indian style, creating a mockery of the saints with pointer and thumb fingers joined together. Meditation amongst chaos.

There was another reason for this; Enchantress was searching. Her eyes closed, darting back and forth through the darkness to pick and pry at the souls on board. A good majority of them had gone, physically, but there was still a presence there that remained eerily silent. And they were watching.

The chatter amongst the rescuing crew brings her out of her reverie, but her eyes remain fixed upon a soul that managed to blink. For Koga... "What if I did?" Confrontational, but she did not. But this was reminding her of that one time she got ran through with a spear...

Daisy's announcement of them being the military grants the woman a salute, if they were going to save the plane like she suggests, she'd better let them get to it. Granted, Enchantress had reserves, but was she going to waste it on a few that weren't guaranteed to make it? Nope! June was already safe, Enchantress will sleep soundly.

She floats from her space, moving into the middle of the path now, still floating, fingers still pressed, soon lowered to rest arms upon her knees. Her eyes now land upon Lance, moving just a touch out of the way for Melinda to pass if she needs.

"Planes not handled. But -try- me."

The crunch of the cockpit as her head jerking towards her left. All of the lost souls move in tandem which has Enchantress dropping her float to press both hands upon the seats at both sides of her. "FINE!"

The dirtied runes upon her arms begin to glow as her voice lowers into a chant, the air around her rippling which soon creates a bubble around her person. If anyone could see it, that shift in the air, they would see that the bubble maximizes in size, then shoots towards the nose of the plane.

It is the least she could do, shielding the nose and the cockpit from further damage (and those within), but the rest of the plane...

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Don't call her that.." Daisy says almost in unison with May about the older agent being called the cavalry. Poor agent Marisol. Most likely going to get probie-smacked when they are back in base. If they survive. "And roger that.. We are en route to securing the cockpit." a nod is given back to Koga when they get close to the door. "Go ahead and open it up." she tells the other agent. She knows about the super strength after all!

Yet it's right when she says that that the turbulence starts. She rocks about, reaching forward to the handhold leading to the cockpit but it doesn't stop her from jostling against the crew in front of it, balance precarious. "Damn it."

"Make it fast, Mi--" it's when that 'sucking' in is felt. And now they are diving without a windshield apparently! Good thing she is still holding on to that door so she isn't slammed to the wall. Instead she focuses.

"Alright, open it." Hands press to the ground as she 'feels' the plane, the turbulence. Teeth grit and she expels outward with her vibrational powers in an attempt to keep the plane from breaking apart, smoothing out all the vibrational hazzards going through the integrity of the plane and keeping it in shape (hopefully), joining her efforts with the Enchantress.

Koga Miura has posed:
Koga has been rocked around a bit by the seats, even losing his footing for a moment. And then he notices what goes by outside. Just barely. It's fast enough that he nearly blinked. "Was that the windshield!?" He asks.

And then he takes a bit of a leap as black covers him, followed by gold tracing the black. Patterns emerge quickly, surrounding him. Almost like his eyes were opening, a pair of red lenses appear first, followed by the rest of a samurai-like helmet. The gold pieces travel over his body, enlarging and expanding as they form a samurai armor in deep green and gold.

His landing is more on the ceiling of the plane before he pushes off it and forward on the seats, keeping himself going and over Daisy. And he's headed right for the cockpit door. Once there, claws emerge from his hands and feet, using them to dig into the floor and grab the handle to the cabin before he starts to dig the claws in as he tries to use them to cut through the door's hinges and lock as quickly as he can.

His voice comes out in an echoing, almost metallic sound as he says towards the others, "Anyone know if we have insurance about this!?"

Melinda May has posed:
May lurches as the turbulance jerks the plane, which is already at a steep incline, about violently. "Sonuva..." She grabs hold of anything that will help keep her upright, a fierceness in her eyes as she moves forward.

It's cramped in that space before the cockpit door, what with two inert bodies and Koga's monster form -- let alone Daisy's crouching body. She holds back until Koga finally gets that door free. As soon as there's a gap big enough for her to slide through, she catapults herself forward. Downward, really, feet first into that cockpit.

Her boots catch on the back of a seat. She crouches, looking out the shattered window at the boy clinging to the front. "What the hell?"

But she doesn't have time to worry about him. That building is coming up *way too fast*. Screw it. She drops further against the console, keeping her feet off the instruments and undoes the belt on the unconscious pilot to shove him out of the way so she can take his place.

Finally, her hands are on the controls and she's calling back over her shoulder, "Brace yourselves!" 'Cause y'all are about to find out just why May's considered one of the best pilots in the agency. The things she can make a Russian made, dead-at-the-stick A350 do is damned impressive. Her fingers fly over controls, adjusting both switches and throttle, feet work the pedals at her feet, before she finally pulls back on the stick -- hard -- banking as she does. If she's really lucky (and skill is 80% of luck), the aircraft will catch lift and start climbing again. Enough to start leveling out.

Jane Foster has posed:
Despite the abundance of superheroes, the FAA hasn't regulated doors capable of withstanding the Hulk. Mostly because Thor-shaped doors aren't really a thing. Koga's armoured form comes awfully close to crushing the tattooed crewman down at his feet. Claws tear into the reinforced door, ripping it open despite the enormous pressure of the rising vacuum. When he hauls it away, the cockpit in all its tangled state comes into view. The flight engineer and copilot are still in their seats with oxygen masks on, still and limp like the passengers. A white-haired teenager is somehow clinging hold. . Flight charts, operational guides, and papers go blowing out the vacant window in front of the pilot. When Melinda unstraps him, the only thing keeping him from being ripped out is gone, a tether snapped free.

He barely manages to utter a scream. A glimpse in slow motion as his uniform is snatched by the wailing wind, and he's bodily torn into the sky over Miami.

Daisy's efforts to keep the plane from coming apart no doubt cause her a tremendously bad case of indigestion, a migraine, and possibly rickets. But the straining wings don't tear away as May forces the plane level before up, since the dangerously steep bank sets off a caterwaul of the few alarms not already disengaged. Someone has been *bad* up here. More should be insisting 'you're going to die going to die going to die' in fatalistic Russian. Enchantress' shield sends sparkling streamers of air past it, forming tiny tornadoes and actual sparks turning red-hot. The back of the plane just isn't having it, the empannage farting out chunks of metal and the torn leading wedge of the horizontal stabilizers. Another chunk of engine casing goes flying. Pieces and bits not magically or psychically reinforced spill down onto the city below, a debris field far less than a plane impacting the ground upside down. But it's low, terrifyingly low in a sea of apartments and cell towers and expensive beachfront property.

Nearly three hundred ghosts come to their feet, drawn forward, seething around the living in a passage that smells swampy and wet to most. They can be smelled, not seen. Touched, not heard. Great handfuls of them yanked into the cockpit.

For Tommy, it's a far more horrifying sight.

Tommy Shepherd has posed:
Tommy shakes the daze from his impact with the plane, grimaces as the glass panel goes flying into the air, and offers a sigh of relief as it misses the engines. His tenuous grasp on the fuselage begins to loosen as he squeaks upwards toward the now exposed cockpit window. Grabbing one of the windshield wipers still attached, he tugs himself inside and observes the interior.

In a quick second, he takes note of the copilot, flight engineer, and pilot. He gives a startled yell. There's something strange going on. There are superimposed astral images over the actual people looking at him in horror. The physical people are all oxygen masked, but appear unconscious minus the pilot who is nudging the stick slightly to the side. Tommy decides try and correct this, but thankfully (because that's another bad idea), Koga manages to rip off the door and enter cockpit, along with other adults who know how to properly operate an aircraft.

He steps to the side holding up a strange wooden mask and cups his mouth with his other hand to yell, "NOW I REALLY HOPE ONE OF YOU IS A SORCERER."

He points to the disembodied astral images of the pilots and also one famous cosmologist, Jane Foster, who doesn't seem to have a body to overlay.

That's when things get weirder. The three hundred ghosts, who can only be smelled by most, can be seen by Tommy. They lurch forward toward him abruptly and are then sucked into the mask he's holding. He does what any right-minded teenager would do at this moment. He screams. Very loudly, and chucks the mask further into the plane, before he leans over and retches, having got an extra big dose of swamp rot.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Lance would keep his ICER on the Enchantress but as the plane is pitching steeply downwards he has to focus on scrambling into a row of seats until the plane starts to level due to May's efforts at the controls. He gets to his feet weapon raised again, when the swampy smell overtakes him and he gags a little at the sudden stimuli. He looks back to the Enchantress, "Okay, enough, if you've got more tricks to help us land this thing, do 'em, before we ended up a smear on the Palm Beach strip, after that, you can tell us what the bloody hell is going on." Because Hunter? Has no freaking clue.

June Moone has posed:
Holding her grip upon the front of the plane was nothing. It was one cast down, and a few more to go. Was there a need to protect herself in that moment, yes. But it had to be carefully timed.. besides.. she was completely distracted.

Each of the souls that amble forward clearly rocks her; her shoulders jutting left and right as if she were being beaten. She wasn't, it was a push of the metaphysical that nearly sends her to wretch, and the fact that there was -some- magic tugging those spirits towards the cockpit of the plane had her floating backwards.

But not too close.

Even as Lance has her in his sights, she keeps moving. A grin plastered upon her face as his voice drowns out due to the howling and screaming of a young man in the cockpit. Sorcerer?

You betcha!

A metaphysical hand reaches out, tendrils almost, to curl around the powered mask to snatch to herself through the wreckage if she could. And if she has it in hand? She'd sniff it.

Finally, to Lance's request.. one eyebrow lifts. Her gaze falling behind him, off to the side now, even turning herself upside down in middair to look underneath the seats and then upright.

"Sorry, what is this 'we' shit?"

Besides, she's helping a -little-.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
There they go again. Overworking her powers in such a manner. But such is life... And she had gained some more resistance to the aftereffects during her time with her mother. So endure through it she will have to do. Not that it doesn't hurt like heck. Teeth rattling. Her bones just wanting to pop out. She closes her eyes to try and filter it out even if it makes her just more aware of how 'wrong' this all feels. The stench makes her turn her nose but she doesn't stop on focusing, concentrating on keeping the plane in one piece...

Or most of it at least.. There goes the engine..

"Can't hold it..., for too long.." she warns the others near the cockpit.

Koga Miura has posed:
    Koga, meanwhile, turns to look, getting another foot hold and clawing into the side of the door to keep stable for a second. He calls back towards Lance and Enchantress, "Hey! Plane about to fall and kill us all or a bunch of people! Can we focus on--"

Then he sees... a teenager? And some sort of mask thing? And a screaming teenager? Koga looks to his SHIELD team mates, then to Enchantress, "I do not suppose you know what that was, or can help land this plane in one piece!?"

Sadly, being a tank and having super strength is not exactly going to help keep the plane flying right now. He looks back towards the cockpit, moving over to help May with the steering, "What can we do to land it safely!?" He asks her over the wind and turbulence.

Melinda May has posed:
May can't afford to think about the pilot whipping past the plane. There was no way she could have done what needed to be done while he was still strapped in. She did try to maneuver him enough behind the seats that the vortex wouldn't catch him, but... She'll drink her guilt down about that later. And try to further assuage it with the knowledge the asshole was deliberately trying to crash the plane. (That helps. A lot.)

Suddenly, however, there are hundreds of different flavours of trepidation, fear, and horror whipping by and through her, bringing with them the effluent stink of swampwater and sewage. She very nearly joins Tommy in losing his lunch... Hell, she very nearly loses any modicum of ability to do anything but scream in bloody terror herself.

Except... there... in the midst of it, one white hot emtional signature that rides the rest -- full of anger and resolution. Which, for Melinda May is like a breath of fresh air. It is, after all, her own default emotional state, for all that the signature it comes from is not her own. She doesn't care. Mentally, she grabs hold of that sensation and channels it deeply into herself. Her focus tightens, her determination strengthens, and she lets out an angry, defiant growl as she steadies that stick in her hands.

Calm returns as anger turns to ice in her veins. She channels her considerable focus and energy into trying to glide a falling metal brick with wings onto a clear patch of, yes, beachfront property. She's working ailerons and flaps as well as what remaining engine power she has to level off the machine and keep its nose up enough that they don't all end up as pancakes. It's not easy... especially when the kid starts retching all over the remaining windshield.

She checks the landing gear. Remarkably, it's still intact. As are, apparently, the brakes. "Get that kid off the windshield," she barks at Koga. "Otherwise, get the hell back and let me fly!" The last thing she needs is a rookie getting in her way.

Yes, they're coming for a landing. It won't be a gentle landing. But it *should* be one they'll walk away from.

Jane Foster has posed:
The mask in an actual sorcerer's hands does a wiggly jig. The gnarled surface is somewhere between sepia and charcoal-shaded, fringed in dead leaves and dark feathers stolen from creatures of the endless boreal forest. Possibly made of leather or aged wood, those deep grooves give a horrific appearance even to those inured against being unnerved. It boasts a fringe of pointed teeth framed in a grimacing mouth, sharp enough to cut bared flesh. Into the gaps flow the soul stuff, dragged forth from their perpetual wait in their bodies.

The boggy smell accompanies a visual of those souls being dragged in, those closest to the witch hauled in. Those in the cockpit halt and turn, crowding together to await their turn. Anyone unaware they swim in disembodied materials shall see dozens crowded around, ignoring seats in the aisles, standing on bodies and baggage being thrown around by the reversed suction from the decompressed cabin. Fortunately for all they are low enough in altitude to not make breathing impossible, though May can at least steal an oxygen mask. Koga might have to rip one free from the flight engineer or copilot.

The strain of the flight on the crippled Aeroflot can be heard and felt in every groaning chunk of metal. Daisy fights against bolts flying free. Lance fights against gravity and the dead he's entombed with at the back. The crazy angles of the plane are no longer an issue, and carefully touching down at Miami International Airport on basically any runway not marked with a giant white flashing X is possible. The benefits of a nine hour flight without air communication; air traffic controllers can sweep out visible planes, though not cloaked Quinjets circling nervously. In truth, an Airbus wants to fly itself; it needs only some help getting itself on the ground. If it can stay intact. If it can't, most of them are dead and a few more will add to the tally.

Koga's potentially the one other person in the plane able to see Jane standing on or over the flight engineer, hand on his soul's shoulder, while the man stares in grief out the window and the copilot has his face in his hands.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Great you bloody would be immune to plane crashes," Lance grumbles as much to himself as the Enchantress. "Really need to get myself some powers." Though he's distracted first by Koga. "We're working on it!" he shouts back. And then by the swarm of suddenly visible souls. "What in the bloody hell?!" he exclaims stopping short of firing, there were still people all around him ICER or not he wasn't going to pull the trigger until he was sure the effect justified the risk and some how he doubted dendrotoxin had much of an impact on the dead.

"Okay, so you're good with plane crashes, how about the dead?" he calls to the Enchantress. "Wanna lend a hand now?" his eyes are still wide as he looks this way and that as he tries to get out of the way of the undead swarming towards the cockpit. << Guys, just an FYI, there's a bunch of ghosts heading your way, so hoping one of us thought to bring a proton pack or something >>

June Moone has posed:
Gravity did not exist in Enchantress' world, at least not now. She was still afloat, newly acquired magical item within her grasp, fingers curled within the eyeholes and gripped tight. It was then that the dead descended upon her. And she was going to let them. No spells to stop them from being swallowed up into the mask, a full on laughter of satisfaction echoing through the chambers of the plan that threatens to snap in half.

But it must not!

Crack in half that is, for through spoken word and tries as she might, she attempts to give a hold of magic to the back end of the plane to prevent souls from being lost to the outside, yet gathered in the mask. Enchantress was no hero, she was as dastardly as it comes!

"Ooh.. I -am- lending a hand!" All for herself, waving the mask in all directions and waiting until the last of the 296 is sucked up, even patiently waiting for the last toe wiggle to follow through. The amount of souls within the mask made the visage even more unnerving, but who the f&$## cares!

"When this is done.." Enchantress gestures at the mask, a grin directed towards Lance. "I am going to kill you."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Now that the plane has levelled somewhat it also means Daisy can relent from trying to keep the whole plane from falling apart. Or at least with the kind of intensity she was doing before. Palms meet the ground and she breathes hard, sweat on her brow but resolute. "Engines out ..., Time for one of your special landings, May." full confidence on May's skills on landing this baby with no engines!

And then ..., Ghosts? Lance's info on the comms has her look up. << Ghosts? This is no time for-- >> then she noticing them. She springs up to her feet, hand secure on the side of the cockpit door entrance (now ripped apart) and she spots a rather familiar figure.

"Jane..!" A surge of hope courses through the young agent and one hand reaches out towards the other member of the Furiae, eyes wide.

Koga Miura has posed:
Koga looks up, and grabs the teenager. Being careful of his claws, he drags the teen over the copilot and stuffs him behind the door more or less. That's the only one that he is sure is alive, after all! And then... souls?

Then he eyes back towards the Enchantress. "Right... landing would be good, but I have questions for the magic lady back there!" He states before turning to head towards Enchantress, looking at the souls around as he goes. He can't be the most pleasant thing considering they all just died.

Once he gets closer to where the Enchantress is, he calls out, "What is that thing? And can we stop it? All these people seem to be dead because of it!" He motions around them.

Melinda May has posed:
May spares a glance over her shoulder as the co-pilot and flight engineer's souls suddenly become visible. "Foster?" Her tone is sharp and startled as she recognizes the third soul. She glances back and forth between the disembodied agent and her controls for a moment before focussing on her controls once again.

The runway opens up before her. A tight breath escapes her nose. She reaches out, not for an O2 mask -- her wingsuit already includes that -- but for the pilot's headset, which she jams over her ears. "Tower, this is Aeroflot sierra uniform one-one-zero." Her voice is calm now, the ace pilot ignoring all the WAND (Weird Ass Noncorporeal Distractions) shit. Just another day at the office, this is. "I don't know if you can hear me, but we have regained control of the plane and we're coming in hot. Keep that runway clear for me and scramble emergency services. Casualties... are likely to be high."

Whatever the tower's response, she mutes that channel (though she can still hear it) and speaks into her encrypted SHIELD comm. "QJ zero two, this is STRIKE command. I need you cloaked and with us on the runway. We're going to need to make a quick evac of all SHIELD personnel when this bird is down." They simply *cannot* be caught on the ground. "You hear that?" she says, still over coms to Koga, Daisy, and Lance? "When we're down, we bug out and take anyone who's not on the flight manifest or crew with us." Like the kid. And maybe the spooky lady with the weird emotional signature.

Though, really, she's far less of a priority. Even if, somewhere way deep down in the back of her mind, May is curious as hell about just why the woman has *two* separate sets of emotions emmanating from her. If May knows magic users as well as she thinks she does, even if they want to bring her in for questioning, that woman will probably bug out all on her own. Or else whammy the authorities into forgetting she was ever here. Or otherwise just pop out of existance or something.

This is why May hates magic.

"You hear me, Foster?" she says, eyes glued to that runway as she guides the plane down. "I mean *all* SHIELD personnel." Wishful thinking, she fears, but she can't help but reflect just a hint of Daisy's hope. It sure as hell beats fear.

Jane Foster has posed:
The light in the air tinged curiously brown lends the dead a sepia tint. They resemble their bodies to a tee, save vaguely ephemeral and unimpeded by physical objects. Young Russians still sucking their thumbs up march along to grey-haired elders young during the Great Patriotic War. The mask munches them in threes and fours, swallowing them up like bodies sucked through a straw, a brownish-grey maelstrom of light. As much as the trepidation turns into mounting fear among the anxious ghosts, they advance step by step in a mass waiting for their passage on to wherever the dead go.

Not so much in the cockpit, where the copilot is no help to anyone in death and the flight engineer mutters in Russian words unheard without some ability to touch that mask. Jane doesn't remove her hand from his shoulder, though she looks back when called. Perhaps pure chance that Daisy's shout reaches, though whatever response comes from her is -- like all the rest -- purely silent. The one time when Clint would have ruled them all, and he's on the ground doing something risky like eating 2-day-old pizza in his jammies. Whatever she says isn't audible, words and their names together. A grimace tightens her lips as she turns back, brown hair shaken off her shoulder, and scowls in the Enchantress' direction. There is a bulkhead and a wall in the way in the overcrowded cockpit full of sound and fury; landing a plane crippled by decompression there means it's absolutely in danger of things tearing away. But it's like she sees the witch.

And has Opinions. (TM)

Air traffic control almost scrambles over itself to answer. They may be trained to keep their cool under pressure but a junior attendant falling over a chair isn't cool as the supervisor. "Aeroflot Sierra Uniform One-one-zero, this is Miami Tower. Affirmative, you are number one, cleared for approach and you can continue tower one twelve one. Repeat, you have preference for runway 26R.â??

The big one. The one that doesn't mean smashing into the terminals where passengers are unfortunately glued to the windows. While that can be chewed over, Marisol and her counterpart both confirm quietly about landing under cloaking, one giving cover. Because dozens of planes circling over the Atlantic and the Gulf are nothing to worry about.

Tommy Shepherd has posed:
Surrounded by the dead, the undead, and swamp gas, Tommy is significantly more compliant then he usually is. He's grabbed and placed by Koga. He sits somewhat in a daze, barely registering what's happening around him. Having never heard of SHIELD before, it sticks out odd in context. His brow knits a slight frown on his youthful features.

He allows himself to get distracted by it, because reality is significantly too horrible in his immediate vicinity. Tommy does understand the value of a good bug out strategy. He looks toward May, who's all collected and authoritative. He immediately admires her and hates her at the same time.

Coughing, he wipes spittle from his mouth on the back of his hand. "If you need help on the evacuation, I can get you away faster then anyone can see." He gazes out the cockpit window toward the approaching runway. "I can also... help slow the plane down once you are on the ground. If that'll help."

Lance Hunter has posed:
<< 10-4 May, might need a bit of help here >> Hunter says over comms, watching in horror as the ghosts are devoured by the mask. Koga's question is registered and in reply Hunter takes aim and fires his ICER at the mask. "Get in line," he says of the Enchantress planning to kill him after this. Hopefully something that's going to be a lot more difficult if the mask is out of her hands. But that was a big if.

June Moone has posed:
There was something there that.. should be? Someone wasn't cooperating with the call of the mask, but it didn't matter. Not much. Over 200 souls was good enough, and the only thing left for Enchantress to do was absorb the power and make it her own. It'll be like a little bit of Lawry's seasoning on a Rib Eye already salted, peppered and buttered.

"I." She says with her first step. "Am." Next. "Going." Next step. "To rip off your face and wear it as a mask!"

Threats, not turned to promises as the ICER was fired, connecting with the mask dead center which blows Enchantress out of her hover and onto the floor. The grip was phenominal, thankfully.. and as Koga begins to descend upon her, Enchantress does the one thing that she shouldn't.

Eats it.

The mask was pressed into her chest, soon surrounded by a green light and sunken into the depths of whatever that witch would carry. Almost as soon as it flashes out of visible existence; the black smoke soon submerges Enchantress, her limbs flailing and thrashing until but her fingers are seen and swallowed.

Plane landed safely or not, what would be left was not the witch, but June Moone and her travel bags, clutching her phone unconscious.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
As Daisy's hand nears Jane it passes through her. Incorporeal. Lips press to a grim outline, watching those lips move but not understanding. "I can't understand..." she murmurs, eyes fixed on her friend for a time. Still, the hope remains. She was here, they would figure this out. "We are going to figure out a way for you to come back." she tells her, full of resolution on both tone and demeanor.

But right now they had to find a way to land without breaking apart. And what the heck is it with all the ghosts and being sucked .., somewhere?

So she collects herself, turning towards where Lance and that other strange woman was at. "Got it, May." a brief glance to Thomas with a look of 'how the hell did you get here?'. But she doesn't answer him. Instead she speaks on comms, << On my way, Lance. >> she says about the request for help, starting on her way back to where the others are at.

She arrives just in time to witness the scene, the shadowy tendrils envelopping the Enchantress and turning into June... That, was unexpected.

A look to Lance and Koga. "Good job." is she perhaps thinking they knocked her out? Most likely! "Lets bring her back with us.."

Jane Foster has posed:
Sticking one's hand through a ghost is not a pleasant experience. It's boggy and wet. The arm comes away feeling rather unpleasantly squishy, and the ghost barely reacts. Such is the nature of the Russian ones.

Going through Jane is like being nailed by a static charge generated by Tesla playing with all the wires he could find. Her projected self parts but with a crackle enough to make all of Daisy's hair probably stand on end. The air around the cockpit is already so disturbed and wild that any smell is near to impossible to make out; the benefit of Tommy retching means the stink doesn't stay.

But the whole place abruptly smells like wood and amber, sap and leaves, and under that the icy pallor of death somehow a muted white musk ground into nothing.

She wraps her arms around the flight engineer and the pair of them crash through nothing, the copilot seized in the torrent of leaves and glinting sunlight that might give the SHIELD agents a chance to hide from any cameras that might be pointed at a landing plane. Miami only has about 200.

Koga Miura has posed:
Staring at the rather sudden, well... change over the person they were talking to, Koga looks for some identification, even on the luggage as he gathers June and that to move quickly. At least he's still somewhat a gentleman as he bridal carries her and heads for the exit. Fortunately super-leaping is in his power set, too!

He comments into the comms, << Bringing one along. Probable passenger was the magic user. Have some sort of scan to figure out who she is and be ready to hack the pilot manifest. >>

Well, international terrorists. Might as well kidnap the one who ate the mask that caused all this!

Melinda May has posed:
"Copy that, Tower," May says calmly into the pilot's radio. "On target for runway two six romeo. Bringing her down now." She mutes them again, calling out over comms, "All personnel, brace for landing. It's gonna be a bumpy one."

Then, she's all business, managing landing gear, air brakes, flaps, ailerons and every other still working system that will get them down in one piece. And they *do* make it down in one piece. Yes, it's a dangerous piece. There are sparks, which means the risk of a ruptured fuel line and explosion. But the gods smile upon them and nothing so much as smoulders.

The sound of metal on asphalt is excrutiating. The feel of it is terrifying, as the plane judders and swerves while May wrestles with the stick and pedals. In the end, it comes to rest at the far end of the runway, the quinjet needing to land some distance away on a grassy overlook.

May lets out a tight breath and glances to the kid. She gives him an evaluating look. "If you can get us out of here without every camera in the place identifying us," she tells him, "I won't tell your folks you ended up joyriding on the nose of a crashing plane. How's that sound?" Who says she can't negotiate?

Because, really, that's what it comes down to. The plane is down and she thrusts herself out of her seat, lips tightening as Jane ultimately disappears. "C'mon, people. Let's move." They're not done until they're wheels up in the Quinjet.

Lance Hunter has posed:
When the enchantress vanishes into smoke leaving June Moon in her place Hunter looks to Koga, "Thoiught we needed a bucket of water to pull that off," he says before Daisy joins them and gives the order to grab up the woman "Great, we'll be joining Peggy and Jemma as international kidnappers," he snarks lightly but he doesn't stop the woman from being taken.

Holding tight to an empty seat as the plane 'lands' he still ends up spilled in the aisle by the time it stops. He gets up, "Right, good to get out of here, May." And he's heading for one of the emergency exits, and is likely grabbed up and moved by Tommy before he's even aware of it.

Tommy Shepherd has posed:
"Parents are not in my life any more, ma'am. I'd rather you not tell my parole officer. Also if you are anything like the Men In Black, and you can do things about parole.. I'd love not to have to do check-ins." Tommy offers in slight annoyance, clearly not enjoying having the subject of his parents brought up.

As people exit seats and make their way toward the quinjet, they will experience the sudden thrill of acceleration as they are scooped up by the armpits and promptly deposited within the cloaked vehicle. It's a little bit disorienting, but its likewise too fast for the naked eye to really track.

Who ever said the key to being sneaky was going really slow?

The teenager is surprisingly strong, and the last team member to get a joy ride is Melinda, since she seems like the stoic 'Last One Out' kind of agent.

In the end, Tommy is sitting on the floor of the transport with a pile of peanuts, pretzels and granola bars, chewing as he stares at the secret agents. He chases the snacks by popping a can of soda and chugging for those all so precious calories. "So... you do this for a living?"

Melinda May has posed:
As the team is evacuated in a blur, May arches a dark brow. "Huh. Rodriguez would looooove you," she says quietly, just before the kid grabs her and adds her to the group at the quinjet. She bearly takes a moment to reorient herself before she's smacking the red hatch button and closing them up. "Marisol," she barks, "Wheels up. Get us outta here."

She moves to join the younger pilot in the cockpit, watching the emergency services personnel scramble over the runway and hose down the plane. All they'll find inside is nearly 300 corpses and the black box. Which, yes, could implicate them. Implicate her. But it doesn't matter. She did her job. They all did they're jobs.

Because the answer to Thomas' question is a simple: "Yes. We do. We're SHIELD."

And that's just what SHIELD does.