~HIGHWAY TO THE DANGER ZONE~

"AS SOON AS YOU'RE BORN!~" SWOOSH! Tsuritsa made a high-speed drop about six thousand feet, jerking her beloved vessel back into the proper altitudes rather sharply, as she pulled off a barrel roll. Because only AWESOME pilots did a barrel roll! "THEY MAKE YOU FEEL SMALL!~ BY GIVING YOU NO TIME, INSTEAD OF IT ALL!~ 'TIL THE PAIN IS SO BIG, YOU FEEL NOTHING AT ALL!~" Swinging up tight, she did a backflip twice, and carried a third one a couple dozen yards before flipping back over. "A WORKING CLASS HERO IS SOMETHING TO BE!~ A WORKING CLASS HERO IS SOMETHING TO BE!~ THEY HURT YOU AT HOME, AND THEY HIT YOU AT SCHOOL!~" Now circling the Drachman seas she flew over on this super-fun voyage, she made another steep drop, soaring back up to 20,000 feet within a few minutes, brushing audibly against the leaves of a mighty oak as she did such. " THEY HATE'CHA IF YOU'RE CLEVER, AND THEY DESPISE A FOOL!~ 'TIL YOU'RE TOO CRAZY TO FOLLOW THEIR RULES!~ A WORKING CLASS HERO IS SOMETHING TO BE!~ A WORKING CLASS HERO IS SOMETHING TO BE!~" Hrm... Enough Lennon, for now. Today was a day of classic rock, the very foundations of the purest of metal! So she was honoring it, as she did every year. WHy today, of all the days in the year? She honestly had no clue, but it was fun to celebrate randomly!

Indeed, she had a bit of a taste for good old rock as well as the metal and epic ICP she generally blasted trhoough her brain. So as she made a dive, rolling as she dropped, before casually pulling up, skimming the water, and rising just before she hit the snow of Drachma's northern shores, she clicked on the radio by mistake, and began singing as she flew. "WELL TAKE THOSE OLD RECORDS OF THE SHELF!~ I'D LIKE TO LISTEN TO'EM BY MYSELF!~ TODAY'S MUSIC AIN'T GOT THE SAME SOUL!~ I LIKE THAT OLD KINDA ROCK'N'ROLL!~" It was at this time she noticed a fellow plane moving her direction, a modernized jet, unlike her sexilicious Firebreather, deemed "Aces High." So she moved into an upside down flying position and as she flew over him, grinned and waved, before moving back upright, and pressing on, singing still into the open comm. channel, and doing various stunts to keep occupied during this epic flight.

Another beautiful night among the sky of Mother Drachma, Nevski was quite ecstatic tonight. He was buzzed on his Mountainman Vodka, and it was his first day as the new Eastern Commander. He was living the the dream he'd had since Basic. Unfortunately, his superiors regretted, forgot, or just wanted to see what happen when Nevski was informed that Eastern HQ was deathly short on personnel, so tonight he was flying proximity patrol. Alone. A little bit tipsy, playing Nightwish in his head over and over.

He loved being up in the air and all, and vodka may be a good co-pilot, but vodka couldn't talk, or at least it refused to since he's drank several of its siblings already. He liked it when there was something going on besides the sound of wind blasting by his cockpit and him sinking into accidental corkscrews. Usually there was a second plane with him, or at least a wingman behind him. It was times like this he missed the friends he made in flight training and back in his infantry days...he remembered ten of them, and he remembered seeing all ten of them in the newspaper...in the obituaries.

He didn't cry often...no, he was lying to himself, he always cried when he was drunk, sometime or another. He wiped them off with a scarred and uncovered hand. He wore his gloves so often that he loved the chance to take them off, yet he would try his hardest to look at them. He brushed a lock of ebony hair behind his shoulder, grassy green eyes looking at his instruments and readouts, doing a flight check to get his mind off the bad memories. Then, almost invisible against the jet black sky, was a...bi-plane? Since when the hell were there ever bi-planes around here; was there some airshow he had not been informed of? Whatever, all he cared about now was that 1)This plane was not cleared to be in Drachman airspace 2)was performing reckless aerial stunts in said airspace -which was his job mind you- and 3)OH THANK GOD, SOCIAL ACTIVITYYYYYY!!!!

As he flew,he realized the plane was going his speed...that's a puzzling, well, puzzle. This plane was obviously a model far behind current avionics; it looked straight out of King Kong, yet it was going at least as Nevski would in combat...something was not right here, even his foggy brain could figure that much. Then his comm. assaulted his ears with a bombardment of Rouenian singing, from a woman's voice, no doubt, and something very old, back from the past, he knew it in an instant. The cluncker went belly up and he caught a glimpse of a pretty blonde in the cockpit as she flew past, the tail advertising it was known as Aces High. She didn't seem up to any trouble, so before she was shot down by AA fire, he'd have to get her out of her; she was probably just some yokel taking a joyride who went a little too far. He switched on his headset and yelled into the microphone to be heard over her singing, going over what he was taught to say, turning Grand Rave n around and catching up with the bi-plane.

"Aces high, this is Col. Nevski Petrenko of Eastern Command. You are flying in restricted airspace, you must-aw, forget it, that's a sweet little number there, miss. Heavily customized no doubt. What you listenin' to in there?" Nevski didn't wanna deal with protocol tonight, he just wanted to have a little conversation, some flight, and some fun.

Wheeee!~ She carried on flying and singing for a good bit of time, but then saw the jet from before keep near her, as a voice, in Gelemortian, was heard over the amazing rendition of one Bob Seger's awesomeness. So she pulled a U-Turn to get a better look at him. From what she percieved, he was of Drachman heritage (no duh...) with flowing black locks framing a somewhat thin face. Seemed like a cool dude. And as she quit singing, she listened, and he seemed cooler. With a little laugh and a smile, she responded back. "Oh, hey there~ Sorry 'bout flying over Drachma and all, was joyriding. Day off, bahahahahaha~" As she listened onward, this Nevski person switched attitudes, apparently bored at work, as she often was. "Oh?~ You like it, eh? Haha, you're gonna overfeed my ego." With a slight giggle, she carried on carrying on, as he spoke, now circling in the sky, keeping near Nevski.

And to his last question, she grinned and flicked on the plane's CD player, at a low volume, so as to be heard, but not enough to require shouting between planes. As she spoke, the song she'd just been singing began to play."Wel, today I felt the need to appreciate the rock elders; John Lennon, Bob Seger, Elvis Pesley, and the like." Performing a barrel roll and a little dive and pull-up, as she continued circling, she smiled to herself. Oh, this plane~ She could hug it. Turning back to the communications system, she nudged her aviators back onto her nose properly, as they had been drooping slightly, and readjusted her caramelly brown-ish hair, tinged red by a few streaks and highlights. "So, I should introduce myself, ne?~ Tsuritsa Cooper, Gelemortian Dragonrider pilot, at your service~ This here's Aces High, a sexy machine of my own blood, sweat, and tears." A brief pause, before she chimed in again. "Dull night on patrol, might I guess?~"

"Indeed, indeed. All fine artists, though, I still enjoy Tarja a bit better. It is nice to meet you, Tsuritsa, though it's a shame that we could face each other in the sky on much less friendly terms. And incredibly boring, till you showed up. Having company always helps my mood." He let a one sided grin take his face as he looked down the nose of his jet at the clouds in front of him then cocked his head to his right to see Aces High as he flew in fast beside it. Then he flew an arc over it and smiled again, as he flipped on his Highest Hopes album, Over the Hills and Far Away playing softly in the cockpit. It was his favorite song, though for its story and way of telling it.

"This is Velikiĭ Voron, my own little charm. A prototype in its final stages, and I've loved her ever since I sat in this cockpit. She just fits so well, and she handles like a dream." And that was no exaggeration, the Grand Raven was a wonder of Drachman avionics and a great advancement in science itself, and he was proud to be its pilot. He led the control sticks inward then forward , heading straight down. Then, he shut the engines. Then he started to scream like the happiest man alive as he flipped them back on, and pulling up as his fuselage skimmed the water.

"See what I mean?! She's a beauty, though fuel's almost out. There's a small island I could refuel at, if you'd like to come along..." He banked to the left and went off in search of the island, not going full speed as to prevent his fuel reserves from going out.

Yes, all fine artists indeed, but then he mentioned TARJA. TARJA TURENEN. THE. TARJA. TURENEN, of course! And Tsuritsa grinned. "Ah, mention her again, and I'll have to go all raving fangirl mode on you; Tarja is LOVE! And AWESOMENESS! And THE MEANING OF LIFE. Actually, the meaning of life is a song by Disturbed, but you know what I meant." Ah, and he went on yet again, with more sweet music to her ears. Smiling contentedly from behind aviator shades that LITERALLY stared back at you, she had to question him and his plane, as was her nature as pilot, mechanic, and engineer, lest her own honor be diminished in her eyes FOREVER! "Built it yourself? or rather, modified it yourself? or both, preeeeehaps?~" As she spoke, she caught sound of "Over the Hills and Far Away," one of the best Nightwish songs in history. In fact, only "10th Man Down" was even a TINY bit better, and only BY a tiny bit!

As she enjoyed Nightwish over the radio comm. set, she watched as he dropped intoa powerful nosedive, narrowly escaping the icy embrace of the cold North Azurian. "Bravo, bravissimo and all that schnazz~ Personally, I prefer a barrel roll right over the water, as you pull up on the throttle; makes for a far more satisfying swoosh, complimented by the wings ever so lightly tapping the water's surface~"

After the stunt, she listened to him once more, in a friendly style of conversing, each taling at DIFFERENT times, rather than simultaeneously, as is the norm, since talking at the same time was hard and confusing. What he was saying, specifically, did indeed appeal to her; as it happened, her own fuel gauge was coming to a halt. "Race ya~" With a sticking out of her tongue, turning her head to face his cockpit, she grinned, as the wild wind whipped her wavy hair a ways over the waters below. With a wave, she wished him good luck, and whooshed off towards the island she assumed he'd referred to, based on its landing strip and tiny dots she assumed were barrels of fuel and such. "HAHA! Eat my dust, puny n00b! BAHAHAHA!~" Laughing into the mic, she sped off, conscious of her fuel consumption, mind you, towards the strip, and lowered altitude, slowly descending onto the island...