Post by Danger Zone Wolfie on Oct 27, 2005 19:23:41 GMT -5
You're walking up a monstrous hill. It's not steep, but it goes so far up, you can't see the top. If it were a little steeper, you could probably call it a mountain.
It's a bright day and there are few clouds in the sky, but you're in the shade so the sunlight isn't bothering you. Suddenly, the shade disappears and you wish you had your sunglasses. You squint your eyes and keep climbing, because you really want to know where this hill leads...
You're getting tired. You've been traveling up the hill for hours. Your legs are hurting and your feet feel more like lead weights tied to your ankles than actual feet.
Then the ground becomes level. The sun's still uber-bright, but at least the walking is easier now.
The ground begins to rumble, and you hear a loud roaring sound. Your first instinct is "Earthquake!" and you look around frantically for anything that could collapse on you...
But there's nothing. No trees, no buildings... Nothing. It's a flat, plain wasteland.
The angle of the light changes as you turn, and all of a sudden, it's as if a Naval Air Station has risen up around you. There are hangars, small homes, what looked like a school, and about a hundred people in white uniforms. There's also runway, which you noticed last because you're standing at the end of it. A jet passes only about 40 feet above you. Shocked, you stumble and fall backwards.
Two girls pick you up. They're dressed similarly; both in blue jeans, tee-shirts, bomber jackets with "Skyraiders" printed across the back, and aviator glasses.
"Hey," says the taller of the two. "You're gonna get yourself killed just standing here like that. The arrested-landing wire is a bit faulty lately."
"They're training the newbies this week, and I think it's Maverick instructing them... They're gonna need the whole runway, plus some. So, unless you've got a death wish, you may want to head that way..." adds the second, who points to the left while sticking a blue "NAVY" baseball cap on her head.
Your eyes follow the direction she's pointing. There are people... with wings.
"Whoa..." is all you manage to say.
"You must be new here," chirps the tall one. "Those are winglies. Aren't they cool? ...Wish I was a winglie. You can't go near them, though... They're endangered or something, so they've all got magic barriers that repel humans."
"C'mon, we'll show you around!"
You follow the two as they point out all sorts of interesting things.
"There's the main building with all the offices and classrooms - don't know why that's still here, they hold three quarters of the classes in the hangar anyway..." mutters the one with the hat.
"That's where the folks who live on base are housed," says the tall one, "and off to the side there is the Winglie Village. Nobody but the winglies ever go in there unless they're invited."
"I believe you're already very well acquainted with the runway," jokes the one with the hat as she brushes some dirt off the back of your shirt.
"There's the Air Control Tower... Be very afraid of the Air Boss. Johnson's a jerk when he gets angry, which is most of the time. He's always spilling coffee on himself because the jets startle him, and then he goes and takes it out on everybody else... Oh! We didn't introduce ourselves! I'm Kat, and this is Wolfie."
"Johnson's such a coffee-waster; it should be illegal for him to drink anything but water..." grumbles Wolfie. "Sorry... Yeah, I'm Wolfie. Kat and I pretty much live here; we love the planes. There are all sorts here. Everything you could ever dream of, even the MiG-28, which everyone thinks is fictional.*"
"We built it. We yoinked a bunch of parts from all sorts of planes to put it together, and it took us forever, but it flies!"
"The thing's more than half F-5, there are parts from the MiG-29 and 30 keeping the gages all-Russian... The only thing completely new about the plane is the paint."
"If you love planes or flying, or you need a pilot to get you where you need to go, this is the place for you."
"Welcome to our own little chunk of Heaven, The Island in The Skye."
You decide that this place is pretty cool, and that you'll stay for a while, maybe earn a pilot's license while you're hanging around. The next eight weeks of your life are gonna be awesome.
*The MiG-28 is technically still fictional. I'm only using it as a plot device. Maybe some day I'll pay off some Russkie engineer to make a MiG-28 for us, but until then, the MiG-28 is a creation of Jim Cash (may he rest in peace; he'll be sorely missed by Top Gun fans everywhere...) and Jack Epps, Jr.
*We'l split the cost by half, you aren't doing this alone! We're a team, Carlson and Peters! WWAO
It's a bright day and there are few clouds in the sky, but you're in the shade so the sunlight isn't bothering you. Suddenly, the shade disappears and you wish you had your sunglasses. You squint your eyes and keep climbing, because you really want to know where this hill leads...
You're getting tired. You've been traveling up the hill for hours. Your legs are hurting and your feet feel more like lead weights tied to your ankles than actual feet.
Then the ground becomes level. The sun's still uber-bright, but at least the walking is easier now.
The ground begins to rumble, and you hear a loud roaring sound. Your first instinct is "Earthquake!" and you look around frantically for anything that could collapse on you...
But there's nothing. No trees, no buildings... Nothing. It's a flat, plain wasteland.
The angle of the light changes as you turn, and all of a sudden, it's as if a Naval Air Station has risen up around you. There are hangars, small homes, what looked like a school, and about a hundred people in white uniforms. There's also runway, which you noticed last because you're standing at the end of it. A jet passes only about 40 feet above you. Shocked, you stumble and fall backwards.
Two girls pick you up. They're dressed similarly; both in blue jeans, tee-shirts, bomber jackets with "Skyraiders" printed across the back, and aviator glasses.
"Hey," says the taller of the two. "You're gonna get yourself killed just standing here like that. The arrested-landing wire is a bit faulty lately."
"They're training the newbies this week, and I think it's Maverick instructing them... They're gonna need the whole runway, plus some. So, unless you've got a death wish, you may want to head that way..." adds the second, who points to the left while sticking a blue "NAVY" baseball cap on her head.
Your eyes follow the direction she's pointing. There are people... with wings.
"Whoa..." is all you manage to say.
"You must be new here," chirps the tall one. "Those are winglies. Aren't they cool? ...Wish I was a winglie. You can't go near them, though... They're endangered or something, so they've all got magic barriers that repel humans."
"C'mon, we'll show you around!"
You follow the two as they point out all sorts of interesting things.
"There's the main building with all the offices and classrooms - don't know why that's still here, they hold three quarters of the classes in the hangar anyway..." mutters the one with the hat.
"That's where the folks who live on base are housed," says the tall one, "and off to the side there is the Winglie Village. Nobody but the winglies ever go in there unless they're invited."
"I believe you're already very well acquainted with the runway," jokes the one with the hat as she brushes some dirt off the back of your shirt.
"There's the Air Control Tower... Be very afraid of the Air Boss. Johnson's a jerk when he gets angry, which is most of the time. He's always spilling coffee on himself because the jets startle him, and then he goes and takes it out on everybody else... Oh! We didn't introduce ourselves! I'm Kat, and this is Wolfie."
"Johnson's such a coffee-waster; it should be illegal for him to drink anything but water..." grumbles Wolfie. "Sorry... Yeah, I'm Wolfie. Kat and I pretty much live here; we love the planes. There are all sorts here. Everything you could ever dream of, even the MiG-28, which everyone thinks is fictional.*"
"We built it. We yoinked a bunch of parts from all sorts of planes to put it together, and it took us forever, but it flies!"
"The thing's more than half F-5, there are parts from the MiG-29 and 30 keeping the gages all-Russian... The only thing completely new about the plane is the paint."
"If you love planes or flying, or you need a pilot to get you where you need to go, this is the place for you."
"Welcome to our own little chunk of Heaven, The Island in The Skye."
You decide that this place is pretty cool, and that you'll stay for a while, maybe earn a pilot's license while you're hanging around. The next eight weeks of your life are gonna be awesome.
*The MiG-28 is technically still fictional. I'm only using it as a plot device. Maybe some day I'll pay off some Russkie engineer to make a MiG-28 for us, but until then, the MiG-28 is a creation of Jim Cash (may he rest in peace; he'll be sorely missed by Top Gun fans everywhere...) and Jack Epps, Jr.
*We'l split the cost by half, you aren't doing this alone! We're a team, Carlson and Peters! WWAO