Sky Swimming

August 5th, 2014: A sinking barge becomes the point of interest (with rescue included) for Aquaman, Mera, Falcon and Gambit.

NYC Harbor

Along the Hudson River.



  • Civilians

Mood Music:

Metal groans long hollow moaning sounds as Arthur settles the last of the containers onto the dock with a heavy thud. He pulls his hands back from the steel, which now carries a pair of his hand prints, and straightens, eying the cargo container speculatively as water gushes out of it's various seams. He sighs and turns to look at the barge, still listing a little to one side but no long actively sinking. His lips narrow into a thin line at the sight of the massive over loaded ship with it's multicolored containers piled and spread across it's deck. He was kind enough to fish a few out of the mouth of the Hudson, but only because they very nearly hit him on the way down. His gaze goes past them to the water itself and he can't help a disgusted exhalation of breath. He hates the waters around this portion of the East Coast, they're beyond disgusting. "Mera?" he asks, looking around, fervently hoping she hasn't seen someone doing something innocuous and decided to punish them with several broken bones for the infraction.

Innocuous? Mostly… After a few days of putting the modified wing suit through every evaluation maneuver in his test pilot's repertoire, Falcon has just admitted to himself that he's doing all of these 'test runs' for the pure thrill of it. This honesty has freed him up to do a few aerobatic tricks with no testing value that just happen to be a hell of a lot of fun.

Now, he arrives to soar the water of New York Harbor, oblivious to the naval accident that has brought the Atlanteans. He ascends to a considerable height, then dives as long as he dares, breathless and whistling through the air like a rocket. At the last possible second, he yanks himself onto a horizontal flight path, skimming mere feet above the surface and kicking up a white plume of water in his wake. He laughs wildly, dizzied and exhilarated.

Mera has been helping her husband rescue these ignorant and moronic surface dwellers from their own failings by pulling still more of these metal … things from the filthy waters and putting them aside out of the way. Probably in the middle of a harbor side roadway. She's noticed many of those noisy grey and white creatures swimming about through the air but hasn't paid them any mind, however, THAT one there, the size of a man and swimming at nearly a decent pace, that's worth noting. She squints a bit in the slightly too-bright sunlight to try and get a better look.

Aquaman glances over at the hurtling man figure and after a moment, looks back to the foreman he was speaking with before, "I'm sorry, I missed what you said." he offers with an apologetic smile, "Do me a favor and keep this stuff," he knocks on the container with a knuckle, "on dry land would ya?" the foreman huffs and puffs, his eyes staring at the container itself, "You have any idea how much one of these things /costs/!?" the man says, kneeling down to inspect the hand prints in the steel, "I've half a mind to sue you buddy! Jesus Christ! I'll be hammering those out all damned day." Arthur just stares at the man, his jaw setting and the small smile fading from his features. "You're welcome." he says flatly before turning his back on the man and heading back towards the jets of water signal his wife's location.

In the end, it's the seabirds that clue Falcon in. Their particular pattern of cries, distressed circling patterns in particular places — without Sam really needing to think about it, he picks up on their meaning, and it draws his goggled eyes to the damaged barge and the Atlanteans righting it. He exchanges a bit of speed for altitude, banks, and heads their way. He flicks over to an infrared filter, looking for anyone who has gone overboard, but the only pip of orange light he spots in the harbor appears to be… effortlessly tossing cargo containers around. So, presumably not in that much distress.

All the same, he approaches Mera, pitches back into an upright position, and rides his flight system's hover propulsor, wings spread wide to steady himself. "Anything I can do to help?" he calls out.

Mera takes a moment to set the cargo container down none too gently, the 'water tentacles' doing the work for her. When the man-sized bird swims over to hover nearby — NOT under his own power. He's a surface dweller, using some manner of contraption! — Mera can only stare. So that's all she does. Stare.

Remy LeBeau is a bystander right now. Watching the barge sink with a cigarette hanging out of his lips; he was on his way to a friends bakery but this, well, he may as well embrace the casual stop and gawk that some around him are doing. Mainly tourists not so much the New Yorkers. They don't care about this kinda shit. They're a cold, cold people.
The Cajun's mouth quirks a bit as he spots a man flailing in the water downstream the Hudson of where Mera, Falcon, Metal and Aquaman are. Sure the Atlanteans could probably effortlessly swim over and snatch the randomly downed barge worker before his head even bobs under once more but Gambit and the other gawkers don't know this.
"Hey! That guy is drowning!"
"Someone should help him!"
No on moves. The woman next to Remy shakes her head, "NO way, I just got my hair done."
The man next to her nods, "Yeah, this water is gross. We could get syphilis from it. I had a friend once who was drunk and trying to swim in it and almost died because he swallowed a condom… maybe it was a balloon, I don't know but fuck that. I'm sure he'll be fine."
Mr.LeBeau sighs, puts out the cigarette, folds his jacket and very carefully places it over the back of his bike before jumping the barricade fence just off the bridge to scale down and extend an arm, trying to grab the man but missing with a swipe. "C'mon, homme. You got to reach. Remy not a Basketball player…" Scrambling back up he walks along the waterline to snap out his staff extending it so it can reach the water slapping fool.
"Hey, dun none of you worry. I got dis one!" He shouts a slight irritated sounding back towards the heroic sorts. Just… got… muck.. allover his boots.
Aquaman moves up to stand next to Mera, his irritation with the foreman fading in lew of slight amusement at Mera's blank stare. "I believe she's fascinated by your flight." Arthur explains to Sam. "The concept is a bit… new." he turns to catch sight of Remy saving the water slapping man and considers, then decides that clearly that man has things under control and isn't in need of real help. Yet.

"Uh… right," Sam says, giving the Atlantean royals a sidelong look. "It's not like I'm the one waving magic water columns all over the place." He shakes his head and flashes them both a slightly teasing grin. "Come on — this is New York. If you have to stop and stare at every black guy flying around on robot wings, you'll never have time for anything else."

Remy's shout catches his attention, even if he can barely understand the man through that accent. "Excuse me," he says, tossing a one-fingered salute to both Mera and Arthur before tipping forward and swooping in the direction of the dock. "Allow me," he offers, taking aim with one gauntlet and firing a sort of cybernetic tether to wrap around the drowning man's midsection. He has to strain his engines a bit to drag the guy out of the harbor (which makes kind of a disturbing 'THWUCK' sound), but before long he's got the guy airborne.

Mera looks at her husband then at the hovering man again. Flying, not swimming. Right. Flying. She also turns toward the drowning person and the man with the staff and just looks bored and mildly annoyed. Of course, watching the finned man flying over to retrieve the man flailing pointlessly in the water just further cements in her mind that surface dwellers are horribly unequipped to deal with anything of note. Well, except for the air-swimmer (flyer?) and the man with the staff. They at least seem marginally willing to assist the more inept of their kind.

Perhaps it's just a stray bit of water kicked up by Falcon's flight pack, but all of the gawkers who refused to at least try to help are abruptly splashed by greasy Hudson river water.

"Thanks, mon ami." Gambit says up to Falcon as he grabs a hold of the rather large fellow the mutant was struggling to pulll up from the drink. It's a grin and he steps back as the man is hauled free, pants around his ankles sporting Superman logo boxers for all to see. Not that he cares right now. He's just happy to be alive.
The staff retracted Remy lowers down and gives the man a few harsh slaps to the back.

Those bystanders all shout, yell, squeal or curse loudly as some of the Hudson decides to go all water elemental and dive on them.
"Oh no my hair!!!" (probably the loudest cry of all).

Falcon sets the man down on the dock as gently as he can manage, what with his eyes averted to protect what very little is left of the man's dignity. As soon as he retracts the tether, a loud beeping can be heard from the hip pocket of the winged one's flight suit. "Er… uh-oh." Fishing in your pocket for a cell phone while wings are attached to your arms and you're being held up by a high-tech jetpack is awkward no matter how you slice it — so much for any sense of heroism in this particular tableau.

Finally, Sam retrieves the incessant device and disables the alarm, eyes going wide as he does so. He mutters a decidedly unheroic word, then, "I'm late. She's going to kill me."

Stashing the phone again, he gives those below another quick salute. "Nice meeting you, Fish People, Stick Guy, and The Competition's Underpants," he calls out, "but, uh, I gotta go…save…an airplane." He winces at the flimsiness of his cover story. "It's lost?" he ventures before deciding to quit digging and just jet away into the sky.

Aquaman watches Falcon go and Remy's successful human-fishing, which he succeeds at not smiling over, and gently places a hand on his wife's shoulder, "Mera." he says, his tone ever so slightly reproachful as the cries from the douse civilians mount the air. "That was unQueenly." he points out before his eyes turn back to the water, "Next the wave should be bigger." he clarifies. Obviously Queens don't make wee splashies, "I'm going to scour the river bed once more, see if I missed something. Be kind to the nice man with the staff? See if he needs any help." And then with a leap Aquaman covers the distance from where he stands to a good thirty feet off the dockside. His dive barely disturbs the water's surface and he's instantly gone beneath the waves.

Mera gives her husband an 'Oh?' look, then as he goes to look for more sunken containers, she starts toward Remy and the now-beached man. As she does so, another, MUCH bigger wave of Hudson river water douses all of those annoying bystanders, especially the one with the hair. Oh, and somehow it manages to completely miss both Remy and the man he's assisting.
The Cajun uplifts a hand towards Falcon as the man soars away retracting that grapnel launched thinger-ma-jig from their rescued not-so-swimmer.
Straightening up after he realizes the man is going to be just fine he looks towards the barge again only to see Mera alone, the part part of aquatic Barbie and Ken gone to do whatever it is fish people do.
It's the second wave that gets people to begin scattering, running back to their cars, continuing their jogs or otherwise fleeing. "Whats going on!?"
Remy being a mutant and all isn't paying so much mind to it as he is Mera's approaching form. Appreciative in his glances but also discerning. Water doesn't just… choose it's targets.
"Am guessin' by the outfit an' dem water works you ain't 'sactly normal-like."
Mera tilts her head, regarding the man as if trying to make sense of his even more baffling than usual speech patterns. "Normal-like. I am entirely normal for a daughter of the royal house of Xebel." And, even though she's looking at the Cajun squarely, she has yet to so much as have a flicker of reaction at his eyes.
"Err… yeah, dat pretty much answers up ever'ting." Gambit's hand fishes around for that cigarette he put out earlier, between his lips it goes and the inhale is taken (After being lit of course).
"Whats a Xebel?" He bites that line. It is why he took his time prepping the smoke. He knew he was about to do something dumb and yep, he did it. But he's a sucker for attractive women. It's just his nature.
Even the married ones.
Mera's eyebrows draw together briefly at the man's question, and she has to remind herself that he is an ignorant surface dweller and can't be expected to know, much less understand. "It is an Atlantean city." The tone of her voice makes it clear that that's all the answer she's going to give. "And you? Are you … 'normal-like'?" Yes, there was a heavy hint of condescension there.
"Oh." Remy mouths as a tendril of smoke escapes him, inhaling it briefly before exhaling. "For a Cajun? I'm awful normal as dey get." He admits. Nothing 'normal' about him though, just like her. "Atlantean City, eh, dat's a new one. Always heard it's out somewhere over yonder jus' didn't ever expect to see one of you up close like." The ego and conciete in her voice is ignored. He's just too laid back to care. This is a very casual almost lazy conversation for him. It's surreal to some extent. Like going in to the forest and having a Unicorn start brushing up on you only you're a Jedi so… the impact isn't what one would expect.

Mera simply nods at Remy's explanation, even if his accent is making her struggle more than usual to understand his words. And those noxious fumes emanating from that smoldering bit of dried plant matter… She makes a face and steps back to get away from the cigarette smoke. "Your air isn't ruined enough, you have to intentionally inhale toxins besides?"

"Oh this?" Gambit takes a finger and taps the side of his death-stick, "You probably wouldn't understand, chere." Some measure of politeness escapes him though and he starts to blow it away from her, off towards the city. It stanks already.
A slow, casual stroll of his gaze along her frame and those red and black eyes take it in, though, surprisingly they don't linger. "I kinda figured you'd be blue or sometin. Mebbe even green." Does he sound disappointed? Maybe, the guy is a huge Stark Trek fan after all (it's canon). "Names, Remy, Remy LeBeau." A half-bow now, a dip at the waste that has one hand tucking in to his abdomen. How formal! He seen it on First Knight and he's got enough natural grace to pull it off as though it's a casual motion.

Blue? Mera actually looks briefly offended by that. "I am not a Blue. As I said before, I am from Xebel." She tilts her head again considerately as he introduces himself with a bow. "Remy Remylebeau. I am Mera." She doesn't bow or curtsey back, though there is a small Queen Liz-esque nod of her head. Definitely something she's used to doing frequently.

"Nah, tres jolie, Mera. Blue would not suit such hair." The Rogue's eyes brighten up at that remark and he actually does exhibit some measure of appreciation for her looks before he fades back in to that very casual, easy attitude of 'feh'. "… LeB… you got it jus' right." He assures falsley, smiling a little at the way she strung his name together, it sounded like burbling water almost as if she was trying to blow a bubble while sayin' his name. Fitting. "It be gettin' late. I find myself not sure what to ask an Atlantean, dis not very much like me. I'd say c'mon les go grab a bite to eat an a drink but you probably don't enjoy de same eh… palate." He's kneeling down to dust off his boots, trying to wipe some of the muck off of them. A little murmur around that nicotine sliver escaping him.
Also he doesn't realize Aquaman might also break him in two.

"tres jolie," Mera repeats, trying to figure what that means. It's not like any of the surface dweller words that Arthur has taught her. "I have been told to be very cautious of surface dweller food, that it is frequently … artificial." She watches him try to wipe at his boots and only succeed in further smearing the muck. Then a little tentacle of water a bit reminiscent of an elephant's trunk reaches up from the Hudson and quickly rinses the muck clean. Well, cleaner. It's all relative.

As the tentacle sinks away again, Mera looks over the Hudson. " I need to see what is keeping my husband. Well met, Remylebeau. Perhaps we shall meet again." Without bothering to wait for a reply from the Cajun, she turns and dives into the water to make Olympic swimmers and divers envious, disappearing under the murky water with only the smallest splash.
"Ah, merci." Remy manages at the water swipe straightening up with one last look at the book he spies the woman diving out of visibility. "Husband eh? Lucky fish fo sho." Turning around the mutant starts to walk back towards his motorcycle, his phone lighting up as he texts Jamie Madrox, "Homme, just seen de Little Mermaid's hotter older sister."

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