She felt better.
Oh, she wasn't going to be dancing over rooftops and singing Disney songs anytime soon. Still, after that unexpected emotional exchange, it felt like
this great invisible pressure was just...
...gone.
Elizabeth leaned over the toilet sink, careful to steady herself against the slight rocking motion of turbulence. She splashed water on her face, and then
eyed herself in the mirror as cool rivulets ran down her cheeks.
"Should thank that guy," Elizabeth muttered to her reflection. Predictably, there was no response, but she knew what the answer was. Yeah, she
should. He'd helped, a little. He'd listened, if nothing else.
She dried herself with a facial tissue, before draining the tiny basin. She watched as the water vanished down the plug hole with that weird suction unique
to airline bathrooms. Elizabeth gave her mirror image a final once-over, adjusting the scrunchie keeping her hair in check.
That was when something - someone - slammed against the door, hard enough to make her jump.
"Jeez," Elizabeth swore, "I'm almost done!"
There was a fair bit of noise outside, and then a very shrill scream.
That...couldn't be right, Elizabeth thought. Surely nobody on earth needed to pee THAT badly.
But the commotion was only increasing in volume, filtering through the thin lavatory cubicle's door. Quickly, Elizabeth unlocked it and looked out.
Her eyes widened.
The plane was in chaos...and it didn't take an investigative genius to see why. At the centre of the tableau were a man and one of the flight
attendants. The man's swarthy features were contorted in a mask of rage, and he was yelling in a language Elizabeth couldn't make out. It took her a
second to recognise it as English, distorted by a thick accent. He had an arm wrapped around the stewardess and something pressed to her neck.
Something sharp, from the look of terror in the woman's eyes.
That expression was echoed by most passengers in the cabin.
Elizabeth stared. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not again. Not with all the security checks at airports, all the precautions, all the passenger
screening...it was impossible. Unthinkable. It couldn't be happening.
But it was.
It was.
People were screaming, now. There were a few passengers out of their seats, but the fact the hijacker had a hostage kept them cowed. He had an angry sneer
pasted on his face, just daring them. He wasn't all that big - in fact the woman he had locked in a deadly embrace was taller than him - but no judge would
dock points for that. He was intimidating enough, not merely with the promise of direct and immediate violence, but also with what his very presence meant.
Everyone knew what he was.
Elizabeth watched this with a strange sense of disconnection. For the first few seconds, she couldn't process what she was seeing. The chaos in the
cabin seemed far away, like it wasn't real. Then it all caught up with her, all at once, and she became very glad she had just emptied her bladder.
This was insane. She had to do something. Someone had to do. She couldn't just stand here and...
Elizabeth froze.
The hijacker was halfway down the aisle, closer to the bank of toilets and her own position than the front of the cabin. Past the man and his captive, she
could see her own unoccupied seat...and the chair next to it, where Walker still was. As she watched, he rose silently from the chair.
With his back turned, the hijacker couldn't see this. In fact, Elizabeth felt sure she was the only one on board who noticed the sudden movement.
Especially when Walker lowered his glasses, just enough to look her in the eye...and winked.
...
Yes, it's a cliffhanger. Yes, I'm a bastard. But come on, you have some idea what's going to happen. Can we say fight scene? Yes we can. The
prospect of dealing with something as...emotionally loaded as a plane hijacking, with all its brutal real-world connotations, is kinda daunting to me, but
I've had this choreographed in my head for some time. It's brief, but I hope it works. And things aren't always what they seem. I will say - this
is not precisely the 'crisis' of the story as such. I'm not introducing a new 'lol hijack' thread here; this is by way of answering the
questions about the two characters...
-- Acyl
Oh, she wasn't going to be dancing over rooftops and singing Disney songs anytime soon. Still, after that unexpected emotional exchange, it felt like
this great invisible pressure was just...
...gone.
Elizabeth leaned over the toilet sink, careful to steady herself against the slight rocking motion of turbulence. She splashed water on her face, and then
eyed herself in the mirror as cool rivulets ran down her cheeks.
"Should thank that guy," Elizabeth muttered to her reflection. Predictably, there was no response, but she knew what the answer was. Yeah, she
should. He'd helped, a little. He'd listened, if nothing else.
She dried herself with a facial tissue, before draining the tiny basin. She watched as the water vanished down the plug hole with that weird suction unique
to airline bathrooms. Elizabeth gave her mirror image a final once-over, adjusting the scrunchie keeping her hair in check.
That was when something - someone - slammed against the door, hard enough to make her jump.
"Jeez," Elizabeth swore, "I'm almost done!"
There was a fair bit of noise outside, and then a very shrill scream.
That...couldn't be right, Elizabeth thought. Surely nobody on earth needed to pee THAT badly.
But the commotion was only increasing in volume, filtering through the thin lavatory cubicle's door. Quickly, Elizabeth unlocked it and looked out.
Her eyes widened.
The plane was in chaos...and it didn't take an investigative genius to see why. At the centre of the tableau were a man and one of the flight
attendants. The man's swarthy features were contorted in a mask of rage, and he was yelling in a language Elizabeth couldn't make out. It took her a
second to recognise it as English, distorted by a thick accent. He had an arm wrapped around the stewardess and something pressed to her neck.
Something sharp, from the look of terror in the woman's eyes.
That expression was echoed by most passengers in the cabin.
Elizabeth stared. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not again. Not with all the security checks at airports, all the precautions, all the passenger
screening...it was impossible. Unthinkable. It couldn't be happening.
But it was.
It was.
People were screaming, now. There were a few passengers out of their seats, but the fact the hijacker had a hostage kept them cowed. He had an angry sneer
pasted on his face, just daring them. He wasn't all that big - in fact the woman he had locked in a deadly embrace was taller than him - but no judge would
dock points for that. He was intimidating enough, not merely with the promise of direct and immediate violence, but also with what his very presence meant.
Everyone knew what he was.
Elizabeth watched this with a strange sense of disconnection. For the first few seconds, she couldn't process what she was seeing. The chaos in the
cabin seemed far away, like it wasn't real. Then it all caught up with her, all at once, and she became very glad she had just emptied her bladder.
This was insane. She had to do something. Someone had to do. She couldn't just stand here and...
Elizabeth froze.
The hijacker was halfway down the aisle, closer to the bank of toilets and her own position than the front of the cabin. Past the man and his captive, she
could see her own unoccupied seat...and the chair next to it, where Walker still was. As she watched, he rose silently from the chair.
With his back turned, the hijacker couldn't see this. In fact, Elizabeth felt sure she was the only one on board who noticed the sudden movement.
Especially when Walker lowered his glasses, just enough to look her in the eye...and winked.
...
Yes, it's a cliffhanger. Yes, I'm a bastard. But come on, you have some idea what's going to happen. Can we say fight scene? Yes we can. The
prospect of dealing with something as...emotionally loaded as a plane hijacking, with all its brutal real-world connotations, is kinda daunting to me, but
I've had this choreographed in my head for some time. It's brief, but I hope it works. And things aren't always what they seem. I will say - this
is not precisely the 'crisis' of the story as such. I'm not introducing a new 'lol hijack' thread here; this is by way of answering the
questions about the two characters...
-- Acyl