[ She falls, and Sam doesn't even think before he goes into a dive, wings folding back inside the pack, thrusters kicking in to push him down faster. He gets out a barked 'hang back, I got her' before his comms crackle ominously from the proximity alone.
It's dicey, with the storm beating down on them, but Sam's trained for this, as flown through sandstorms and other heavy duty weather to save people and kick some ass respectively. He has no intention of letting this be any different, no matter how hard the wind tries to buffet him, no matter the poor visibility in the downpour. Sam hears Joaquin's voice in his ear, informing him of the readings the team's getting from the woman's body...
... but then Sam's momentum catches up to her. He gets his arms around and under her, and just like that, Joaquin's voice cuts out with a sharp 'pop' as Sam's comms short-circuit. He winces, but he doesn't have time to be concerned. His wings snap open as he pulls her unconscious body close, tucks the woman against his chest and lets his momentum carry them into a long dive and sharp upwards curve to avoid hitting the tree tops and ground beneath.
The maneuver is unsteady, they get flung around more than he likes, but his focus is on keeping her secure more than on keeping himself perfectly stable. For now, with her very proxmity messing with his comms and sensors, Sam flies blind, going by his eyes rather than any readouts he's no longer getting. He pulls up and away from the portal, from the storm, carrying the woman bridal style against his chest. First call is to get out of the storm. Second call is going to be injury assessment. Third is going to be reconnecting to the team and getting himself and the stranger to safety. ]
[ For long moments, she feels as he must expect - dead weight since she's unconscious, lean muscle under the smooth material of her uniform. Her clothes are slick and wet from the rain - but her hair steadily dries from an unseen static, curls bouncing around the more they fly and get away from the storm. But Sam's flight isn't particularly smooth, and soon enough the rough ride has her blinking her eyes open against his chest.
The sensations and recognition come slowly. Someone is carrying her. They are flying. The someone is armoured. There are wings, mechanised ones, cutting a path through the air. Everything sings of ozone and energy - the lightning was not solely hers, and hers has died down to a harmless crackle.
She looks up, bleary, and makes a few connections. Blue, white, red, and warm brown skin. ]
Captain.
[ Her eyes fall shut, but she isn't asleep. Just resting as the tension slides away. She can rest, almost curl into his chest, because she's so tired, but she knows who she's with. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's dicey, with the storm beating down on them, but Sam's trained for this, as flown through sandstorms and other heavy duty weather to save people and kick some ass respectively. He has no intention of letting this be any different, no matter how hard the wind tries to buffet him, no matter the poor visibility in the downpour. Sam hears Joaquin's voice in his ear, informing him of the readings the team's getting from the woman's body...
... but then Sam's momentum catches up to her. He gets his arms around and under her, and just like that, Joaquin's voice cuts out with a sharp 'pop' as Sam's comms short-circuit. He winces, but he doesn't have time to be concerned. His wings snap open as he pulls her unconscious body close, tucks the woman against his chest and lets his momentum carry them into a long dive and sharp upwards curve to avoid hitting the tree tops and ground beneath.
The maneuver is unsteady, they get flung around more than he likes, but his focus is on keeping her secure more than on keeping himself perfectly stable. For now, with her very proxmity messing with his comms and sensors, Sam flies blind, going by his eyes rather than any readouts he's no longer getting. He pulls up and away from the portal, from the storm, carrying the woman bridal style against his chest. First call is to get out of the storm. Second call is going to be injury assessment. Third is going to be reconnecting to the team and getting himself and the stranger to safety. ]
no subject
The sensations and recognition come slowly. Someone is carrying her. They are flying. The someone is armoured. There are wings, mechanised ones, cutting a path through the air. Everything sings of ozone and energy - the lightning was not solely hers, and hers has died down to a harmless crackle.
She looks up, bleary, and makes a few connections. Blue, white, red, and warm brown skin. ]
Captain.
[ Her eyes fall shut, but she isn't asleep. Just resting as the tension slides away. She can rest, almost curl into his chest, because she's so tired, but she knows who she's with. ]
Sam.