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Post by Orca on Nov 26, 2006 9:48:02 GMT -5
"The Wild Blue Yonder RP" Players/Characters:-OrcaAri Wright ( P-51 Mustang; "D" variant) Lance Vaughn ( Curtiss P-40) Josiah Day ( HH-60 Pave Hawk) Jack Day ( HH-60 Pave Hawk) -EbonyViperPetra Bellanca ( Cessna 195) -EvangelineJenna Jaeger ( P-51 Mustang) Malcolm Everidge ( Supermarine Spitfire) Blanche Woodman ( F-111 Aardvark) Yvonne Gordon ( CF-105 Arrow) Elspet Gordon ( CF-105 Arrow) Robyn Everidge ( Supermarine Spitfire) Irene Hollister ( Apache Longbow) Ryan "Buck" Sikorsky (upsized Bell 222) Leslie Sikorsky (mostly Bell 222) Treece Sikorsky (mostly Bell 222) -ElizarMichael Thompson ( Cessna 172) -Razor AzuraRay Sover ( F-16 Fighting Falcon) Jennifer Highmont ( B-2 Spirit) Skye Highmont ( B-2 Spirit) -Kamui.EXE ( has pulled out) Otter Skywatcher (De Havilland Canada DHC-2 Beaver) Xeron Tradewind (Apache Longbow) Tomo Aoi Exan (Shooting Star Clan jet)-NPCsBen "Chief" Felix ( MH-53 Pave Low) - head of WRF-I security Grant ( Ford GT40) - newspaper editor Total: 20 (13 planes, 6 helos, 1 car) The Setting: The Western Regional Fly-In (WRF-I) is being hosted on an out-of-the-way plain in eastern Utah. A multitude of events - pylon racing, barnstorming competitions, formation flying demos (as in Blue Angels or Thunderbirds), and dogfight reenactments are set to make for an exciting two weeks. Takes place in mid 2006.
There wasn't a lot to do to entertain oneself at air-traffic altitude. Typical of his style, he flew below the radar. On the way to a normal, routine competition, Ari Wright would never risk it. However, the fact was he wasn't en route to the usual single-race event. He wanted to scope out the kind of "deck terrain" what he was dealing with. From what he had read and heard, these shows out west had a distinctive flavor and flare different to those he had experienced over the last few years. The first matter of business for him would be to get a lay of the land. The P-51D Mustang, still bearing his customary Old Glory colors, cruised levelly at 1400AGL. He was accustomed to long trips. Once he flew non-stop from his home in southwestern Pennsylvania to an airshow in Bangor. This current pilgrimage was no different. His last stop for fuel had been in Denver. After flying a straight line for the last 20 hours, Ari knew he had to be getting close to the Utah/Nevada border. His wingflaps itched. Alternating between diving and climbing was only so satisfying. His CB was quiet; there was no one to talk to. So, he did what he could to relieve the boredom. The Mustang dove below the light cloud cover, tilting to his right to get a better view of the ground below him. Ari frowned, Damn. He saw rugged mountain forests, but no roads cutting through them. No roads meant no cars to buzz. Sighing, he throttled upward, angling up until he was above the lowest of the clouds again. What to do, what to do...
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Post by ebonyviper on Nov 26, 2006 9:54:31 GMT -5
It was also at this time that Petra Bellanca, a youngish Cessna 195, was on her way to the airshow as well. She was going to participate in the Barnstorming event, which was her favorite thing to do. She grew up barnstorming and she knew that she was going to be the best.
She flew below the clouds, watching the mountains roll past below her and wondered when her best friend, Otter Skywatcher, would catch up to her, as she was smaller and the faster flyer.
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Post by elizar on Nov 26, 2006 10:02:54 GMT -5
Michael, the Cessna 172 was already at the airshow, but in the air, hoping to tag few of the racers with his camera. He had gotten few photographs of the military airplanes, and he had been able to catch the registration number on few of the regular airplanes.
He turned on his CB. "This is Michael Thompson to any airplanes and helos approaching the airshow. Tell me from what direction you are coming and you got a chance to be in tomorrow's newspaper." He said calm.
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Post by Orca on Nov 26, 2006 10:06:24 GMT -5
Ari sometimes caught himself envying cars, and this was one of those times. For as much as he would hate being stuck on the ground, at least they had more options to choose from. They had radios that played music, not air-traffic control jabber, and -
A new sound reached the Mustang's ears, and he dipped his nose, until he cut a track through the tops of the lower clouds. Whisps of vapor whipped up around him before disappating. He knew that sound: another prop. He stayed from turning on his CB, listening to the engine behind that spinning propeller. It was coming from somewhere further ahead, carried back on the wind, and from below.
A mischievous grin came to his face. If he couldn't buzz a car, another unsuspecting airplane -
A second interruption. Ari pulled up slightly at hearing a voice come over his speakers, before he regained his previous angle. His radio may be off in transmit, but receiving was on.
A chance to be in the newspaper? The Mustang didn't think so. Any pictures or statements from him could be taken during or after the two-week gathering.
But he still waited to hear if anyone else would respond to that.
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Post by ebonyviper on Nov 26, 2006 10:12:58 GMT -5
Petra also heard the voice on her CB, which was turned on at the moment as she was hoping to get word from Otter. A chance to be in the newspaper? How sweet would that be?
She grinned and switched on her CB to respond, "This is Petra Bellanca. I'm heading due southwest to the airshow."
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Post by Orca on Nov 26, 2006 10:17:48 GMT -5
Southwest.
Ari tilted slightly left, aligning himself up with the sound ahead of him. He was careful to continue to keep above the clouds. He was fairly sure this Petra was the same plane as the one he was preparing to spook. Hopefully she would be too distracted by radio chatter to notice him as he made his approach.
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Post by elizar on Nov 26, 2006 10:22:34 GMT -5
"Roger Bellanca, heading your way." Thompson turned to her direction. Though he would have liked to get more information, such as altitute and perhaps narrower vector of approach, he knew he had dealt with much less information than that before.
Let's see if I still remember the S&R tactics. Thompson smirked. It was probably just a regular airplane, as most racers preferred controlled enviroment when being ambushed by the media. He was nearby where he thought Petra was and he listened in. After few seconds, he heard the engine roar, all to familiar. It was just below him. He turned around and lowered his altitute, finding himself slightly above and behind a newer model Cessna. He snapped few pictures and then came besides the Cessna and shifted his camera to get pictures of the side view.
"Hello." He said giving a friendly smile.
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Post by ebonyviper on Nov 26, 2006 10:26:38 GMT -5
"Hello," Petra greeted in return when Michael came up beside her, "I'm Petra Bellanca. Barnstormer Extraordinaire at your service."
At this time, Petra still did not notice Ari yet.
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Post by elizar on Nov 26, 2006 10:28:53 GMT -5
"Michael Tho-" He paused as he heard the third engine.
"Either you have someone tailing you, or we got another looking for an appearance in the paper." He smirked.
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Post by Orca on Nov 26, 2006 10:31:55 GMT -5
The Mustang's grin became a smirk. This was perfect. The arrival of a second airplane would help him disguise his own engine noise on approach.
He continued to listen to the two Cessnas talk, simultaneously using the cloud cover to gain on them. Ari would wait until the last minute, until he was 100% certain his target was where he thought it was.
Closer, closer... 30 seconds -
He felt as if he stalled when the male Cessna, Thompson, spoke up. The smirk fell from his face. His prank just went up in smoke. Damn. So much for a sneak attack.
The Mustang peeled off to the right, breaking his pursuit off, diving through the lower clouds as he made his exit. At least the airshow wasn't that far off...
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Post by elizar on Nov 26, 2006 10:38:41 GMT -5
Thompson heard how he was dropping back, and figured out what he had been trying to do.
He turned on the transciever on his CB. "Don't feel that bad though." He said smug. "There are not many who can fly up to retired S&R plane without being heard. You did pretty good. Who are you?"
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Post by ebonyviper on Nov 26, 2006 10:40:55 GMT -5
Petra listened to the engine sounds from her and Michael for a moment before replying.
"I don't think I'm being tailed now," said Petra, "It sounded like the guy peeled off right after you said that. Although I don't have any idea what he was going to do."
Then she went silent for a moment while Michael spoke on his CB to the other plane.
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Post by Orca on Nov 26, 2006 10:44:54 GMT -5
Thompson's cheerful tone fell on deaf ears. Ari kept his distance from the two Cessnas. At least they didn't know who he was by appearance. Normally his red-white-blue colors invoked the kind of reaction the Mustang dreaded: adoring fans.
Grudgingly, he clicked his own CB mic back on. "Ari Wright," he responded, "But at least now I know that pranking other fixed-wings out here in the west is out of the question. It's just this latest flight has been pretty 'blah' compared to what I've had to endure before."
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Post by elizar on Nov 26, 2006 11:02:08 GMT -5
"Not everyone has my ears." Thompson said. "And buzzing others would make pretty interesting news. Welcome to the Fly-in." He turned off the mic and turned to Petra.
"Barnstormer eh?" Thompson asked snapping few pictures. "What level?" Though only a photo-journalist, Thompson knew that getting information attached to the picture would be good.
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Post by Orca on Nov 26, 2006 11:35:54 GMT -5
In turn, Ari turned his mic back off. So much for that.
The Western Regional Fly-In was the biggest airshow to take place in this half of the country every year. Descending along with the elevation, it seemed to be an isolated event. The Mustang saw runways, H-marked landing sites, white tents, large hangers, all spread out over a several acre area. He did not see any nearby towns, but there were some dirt rounds winding their way into the gathering.
The traffic pattern above didn't look full. There were only a few other aircraft circling about, fixed-wings and helos alike. Rather than line up and land, Ari kept his nose up, tilting into a long bank as he made to circle the show site in its entirety.
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