Friendly Skies: Part 1

March 29, 2015: Shayera and Hal meet up for random flying.

Somewhere over Wisconsin

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"This is Air Canada requesting permission to enter into American Airspace, heading south mark 234 west 653 South."
"You're a little late to request permission when you're already in our airspace."
"Yeah, I know. I had to use the bathroom."
"Haha! Permission granted Air Canada. You're allowed to continue."


Shayera took to flying most days after her accident, her escape, re-capture and treatment. Forced to down the foods that were most precious to Hans who also taught her the fine arts of spices and which wine goes with which. Shayera never pegged herself as a wine person, and yet, she found the best taste went along with a nice juice burger and sauerkraut. But now, she took herself farther from the tri-city area, a transmission gone out to Hal, seeing as how everyone else seemed a little busy and really didn't fit her whims and nature, he was the closest thing to someone from home, save for the Demon Bird whom she's still attempting to get used to.

"You know where to find me."

And so she waits, flying in circles and spinning, blasting through clouds with the attempt to write a random message in the air, her own brand of fun.

Funsies. As the humans called it.

Hal Jordan streaks through the sky, eventually finding his way to Shayera, the ring immediately backtracing her transmission. He supposed the JL:A computer probably kept track of stuff like that, too, but he still didn't spend much time at League HQ as of yet. A combination of an independent streak and avoiding contact with individuals occasionally likely to make him want to talk to them loudly and in harsh tones meant that he was usually better off on call rather than sitting around and hanging out with his fellow supertypes.

Plus, he had a lot more territory than they did to cover.

He finds the Thanagarian flying about and he pauses for a moment to just admire her grace. Hal has a pilot's soul and he can appreciate a flyer. Shayera, of course, was even more a natural than he and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at it. What must it be like to fly entirely under your own power? The ring made it seem as much, of course, but he was all too aware that it wasn't exactly the same. Finally, he calls out, "Incoming! Do not kill! I repeat, friendly in the area, do not attempt to gut and/or maim! Mayday, mayday!"

The clouds were something of a terror to arrange, and she was sure that somewhere down below? Some little terran or big would have been taking pictures of her efforts. Not exactly seeing her, but the way the clouds move and disperse by the touch of her hand and a flap of her wing. She didn't notice Hal's approach at first, yet when he calls out, she keeps herself at ease with a turn upside down, a flight backward so that she could see his approach, which was loud and clear.

"Who is this Mayday and where is he, she, or it?" She calls out, unfamiliar with the term, and yet with a kick of her feet she finds herself upright and slowing so that he could have the chance to approach easily at her flank.

Today, she was armed, rightfully so, but the usual sticks she carries and nothing more. Helmet remained off, ringed wings were free to bend and flex at her will. "There is a need to spar, Green Man of Earth, however, today I just want to fly."

She seemed a little bit sad, and to question it could prove fatal.

Hal Jordan shakes his head, "Just an earth flyer turn. It just means danger or trouble. I'm usually in trouble when I have to face off with you," he says. He joins her, moving liquidly through the air until he finds himself next to her, laying on his side in the sky and propping his head up on his elbow.

"Sounds like you've got something on your mind. Supergirl hasn't been giving you any crap, has she? You can't pay any attention to her - I think Kryptonians might be brain damaged," he says. "Or have some kind of post traumatic stress thing from their planet blowing up."

Yeah, he's questioning it. He figures she didn't call him out here just to watch her make cloud formations, although they were undeniably pretty. If she decided to wail on him, well, he'd lived through it before.

There was a point in there, one that Shayera admits to. "I will admit that I am rough around the edges. But this planets customs are often times beyond me. Though there are similarities that I can get used to, but your people.. even if practiced, call it illegal." Can we say drunken bar brawls? "I shall show you one day of what I mean."

His lax in flying draws hers out as well, keeping her arms limp yet wings appropriated for the flight. "I do not admittedly deal in anything Kryptonian. I suppose since I am a member of this organization I should have to dabble." Her jaw tenses a little. "But they are all like reckless children. I do not.. as Mrs. Jones said to one mutant friend, play with other peoples children." A slight smirk. "I do not feel sorry for the people. It is clearly obvious that they are making due on this planet. Just as I am."

Even though it was questioned, she does not answer, she was content to keep flying.

Hal Jordan isn't going to push too hard. He knew Shayera better than most other members of the League, and even he knew her only somewhat better than they. But he liked her. She was forthright and unpolished and honest. She liked to fight, just as he did. He figured being reluctant about violence was probably a bit disingenuous if you signed up to punch supervillains in the face. But some heroes just seemed to like holding their nose about it so they could feel holy. Whatever.

"I admittedly don't know squat about children. To me, being in the League just means being on call to beat some ass every now and then. Beyond that, eh. I don't really need a social club, especially one that doesn't have a bar. Some of the Leaguers are okay, though. But I'm sure, if you're looking for your kind of fun ,there are places ont he planet you can find it." he says.

"Children. Are just little versions of yourself that try to kill themselves because they do not know better. You feed them. You bathe them. You put them to sleep. And you talk to them. That's it." Interesting concept, right? Though imagine Shayera's children. They will turn out to be little demons who'd sooner power punch someone than to share a toy. And Shayera would applaud them for that. She does give him a side glance, no smirk nor smile playing upon her features, just thought. "Then you do not believe that there is a certain diplomatic flair to the league that we are apart of?"

She drops suddenly, flying lower to allow her eyes to close, the clouds lightly touching her face as she barrels through the thick of it. "I shall take you out sometime, and we shall search for my brand of fun!" She calls up, then twists and turns so that she could float along upon her back.

Hal Jordan finds himself looking at her for a long momenet as she floats amidst the clouds and then he shakes himself. Wait, was he…no. I mean, yeah, she was beautiful, but…she was Hawkgirl. She'd probably rather see him skinned alive than regard him as anything other than a primitive ape with a magic ring.

"Diplomacy's fine, but it's not for me. I mean, I can make peace if I have to, but I don't see how I'd need superpowers for that. Just send 'em to the UN if they're open to negotiations. Otherwise, when somebody needs knocked out, they can call us."


"Mayday. Mayday. Engine one down. I repeat. Engine one down. Request to land at nearest airbase. Mayday."
"Request to land granted. Air Canada, please turn three clicks North west. Nearest airfield is three thousand miles, estimated ETA in one hour."
"We don't have that kind of time! The second engine is about to over heat!"
"Air Canada, hang in there! I'm going to try to get you some help! In the meanwhile, don't panic!"


"While I could agree, and I do. I believe that we need some.." She flies up from the clouds, leaving a trail as she catches up to her Green Companion. "As I said, while I agree and I do, I do believe that we need lessons in diplomacy just in case that rare chance happens. If our fists do not solve the answer, and we know nothing, do we just give up?" Another pause. "Do we have the right to interfere?"

Hal Jordan considers, "Well, I do, becasue I've been given authority here, even beyond that of the local government. Perhaps you're right, I just…get bored with it. So much talking. Even at the meeting we had, everyone just had to go up and talk and talk and talk…" he says, rolling his eyes.

But then the 'mayday' pings on his ring and he frowns, "Shit. We've got an airplane in trouble. Looks like we get to do the easy to like part of the job - save people's lives. C'mon, we'll grab a few beers afterwards," he says, wrapping himself in emerald energy and streaking off towards the doomed flight…

"I share your sentiment. Green Friend. Talk. More talking. Shake hands. There is no good time to fight anymore, and not just fight. But to fight with a purpose." She almost seemed haunted with those words, only taken aback by the swear word that drew from his lips. "Finally.." She echoes, turning with an aerial that sends her upside down, streaking in the same manner as he but with the refusal to bring her armor to life.

She turns herself upright, keeping herself behind Hal so that she could follow his lead. There was no way for her to know what was going on. "And by beers, I do hope you mean that concoction you people make with a grain called Hops. I've had wine before, made with grapes. It is delicious, but it turns my mood!"

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