Never Seen Twister

Log Info

Title: Summer's Never Seen Twister
Emitter: None
Characters: Miles, Summer
Place: Offshore of Cove City
Time: June 30th, 2010
Summary: Miles did ask for a flight. Summer obliges, and they go storm-chasing. Somehow they manage to talk at the same time. Go figure.

Given a choice between the Baldwin uniform and her own makeshift costume for storm-fighting, the Baldwin one inevitably wins. Summer knocks on Miles' window, seeing the laptop screen flickering through pages and thus indicating that yes, he's there. Her hair's bound back into a neat knot at the nape of her neck to keep it out of the way while flying. "Coming?" she mouths after knocking, jerking her head towards the evening sky.

The window slides open. "Absolutely." A pause. "Man, I'm not used to anyone -knocking- to come in this way. Normally they just jump in and start praying. Or chanting sutras. Or whatever."

"Or hosing everything down via a super-soaker filled with holy water? I heard about that one," Summer replies, offering him her hand. Winds are already swirling around her, tinged with the salt of the ocean — she's evidently already /been/ flying for some time. "You might want to get a jacket. I don't feel the cold when I'm flying alone, but I don't want to risk it."

The closet door slides open and closed, and then his hand is swallowing hers. Big hands. Hopefully he's not still growing. "Yeah. And once some dude tried to nail my feet to the wall with iron nails. That was weird. So where are we going? And, uh, how close do I need to stay to you?"

Summer winces. "Really? Your /feet/? Was he trying to do a preliminary crucifixion, or is this some sort of mystical thing I have no idea about?" She tugs him through the window, her half-horrified, half-amused expression turning pensive as she hovers there. "I'm not sure. You're the first person I've actually taken flying with me. That said, you should be fine as long as you hang onto my hand." She squeezes his hand in hers, her other hand sweeping upwards into the evening sky. There's no tug on his hand, but definitely a rise in wind noise as they head upwards into the sunlight. "I thought we'd go out over the ocean."

"I think the latter- Appalachian folk superstitions about ghosts and witch men say you can nail down their shadows with iron." A pause- probably a nod. "Sounds like a plan to me- it's a good night for it, really."

It's not as warm as Summer's home, up here in the evening light, but it is at least lovely, looking westward over the city and its surrounding lands in the slowly-setting sun. "It's strange," she says, looking pensive. "I've never really seen a sunset over land alone. There's always been the Gulf." She turns away, looking towards the blue-grey of the Atlantic, fighting the sea breeze before finding a current carrying the warmer air back out over the water. The air buoys Miles up as easily as it does Summer.

"This is -great-." Miles actually laughs as they float into the air, and squeezes her hand gently. "Feeling a little homesick? But you're not alone right now, you know." A pause. "On the upside, here we get the benefit of watching sun-rise over the water, so it works out in the end. We could watch that together sometime, if you want."

"Flying's the best thing about all of this," Summer agrees, spinning around midair in a moment of exuberance before she stills, save for the constant motion of the winds. "I am, yes. I miss my mom and my friends; we were supposed to go fishing offshore a lot this summer, and maybe do some dives, too." She looks at where Miles is, brightening as amusement lights her face. "Smooth," she teases him. "Not yet, I think. A little too on the potentially-romantic side."

Miles says "I'd protest, but it's not like you could see the hand gestures that go with it anyway." Miles snorts, then sighs a little. "I kinda know how it is, though. I mean, I don't get to see my folks as much as I'd like, even after a year. Home visits are…complicated for me.""

Looking out over the water and breathing with the rhythm of the waves on the rocky shores below, Summer notes, "It's just me and my Mom, and she's always been my best friend as much as my Mom, so /that's/ not complicated. It's …" She trails off. "… weird to be so far away. Where I grew up was a small town sort of part of St. Pete's." She finally looks back at where Miles should be. "Yeah. Your Grandmother seems to get you, but sibs and parents, not so much?"

"Gramps- my grandfather that is, didn't tell dad about the whole superhero thing, and dad didn't get any powers or anything, so he never really knew what was going on until I turned invisible and grandma Lina showed up and filled us all in. I mean, I love my folks, but they're at least as floored by all this as I am, I think, and maybe more, and…yeah." A sigh. "Man, the view from up here is fantastic."

"That must've been awkward. My mom… just sort of rolled with it." Summer's voice is carefully neutral, a quick side-glance given Miles' location before she relaxes and smiles, the winds buoying her up as she leans back, arms behind her head. "It is. Flying's my favourite thing to do. Even if I didn't like my powers, that'd make up for so much. So your parents kind of freaked out?"

"Seriously freaked." As Summer changes position, Miles shifts his hand that was holders hers to around her shoulders. The better to stay in contact and not fall, of course. Right. "Which…probably wasn't helped by the fact that even getting near me at the time made people freak and want to run away. So they freaked, I freaked because they freaked and freaked them more, and it was just sort of a continual loop until grandma cut in."

"Smooth," is Summer's amused response to Miles' maneuver, patting his hand. "My mom's more the 'cut in and shut everyone up' while my grandparents wibble over everything. They … don't really know about the whole-" She straightens up, flitting away a bit to gesture with her free hand to the sky. "-thing." She pauses for a second, then decides not to state the obvious of 'your powers kind of suck for you'. Instead, she looks out over the ocean and takes a deep breath of the salt-laced air. "Want to see if we can find a storm?"

"Sure! I kind of love the rain. I mean, I don't leave obvious gaps in puddles or anything? But if I splash around, at least people know I'm there." He shakes his head. "Your mom sounds like a hell of a lady. I'm…kind of afraid of her ever meeting my grandma, though. They'd either butt heads or team up and take over the world."

They bob a bit as Summer closes her eyes, mentally skimming her perceptions for any sign of a storm incoming. "At home, there'd be a storm building just off in the Gulf, and it'd be rolling in just about now," she says in a wistful tone. "But there's a storm about… thirty miles that way, I think." She points to the south-east. "Ready? This'll be fast."

Miles says, "I can handle fast, trust me." Miles tightens his grip on her hand, however, just in case, however. "The only time I was ever down in Florida was…Spring break, seventh grade. We actually went to camping, of all things, down in Blue Springs. Freshwater spring the manatees migrate through. I got to see one up close, and figured that any sailor who mistook it for a mermaid had to be very, very lonely."

There's the crackle of ozone, a fizzy feeling over skin, and a brief disorientation. They're suddenly out of the sun and in the middle of black clouds, the crack of thunder following their arrival immediately thereafter. It's cold, and damp, and Summer is laughing — be it at the comment on manatees, or the success of her experiment is anyone's guess. Or perhaps she's done it before. The storm rumbles ominously around them, lightning lancing down into the rough seas into the water, followed by another immediate rumble of thunder.

Miles is quiet at the moment- maybe just hushed by being untouched at the center of the storm, or just awestruck in general. In any case, if there's enough rain, Summer might even be able to pick out his features with her weather-sense, thanks to the water tracing them as it comes down; he's smiling.

Thus encouraged, Summer sweeps her free hand wide across the space between them, then draws it downwards in a vertical arc. More lightning follows the direction of her fingertips, and she laughs again, a little storm-mad. The wind's whipping her hair around in coils, only somewhat darkened by the rain that's pouring down around them. She waits for a moment, then swings around to face Miles, eyes too bright a blue and wide with delight. "I'm keeping the lightning away. I can take a natural strike, but I don't think I can extend that to you."

"That's okay. Just being able to watch it from this close is just…" Pause. "This is all just…" There's a pause, as he tries to put it into words, and then? She's getting kissed. It's a light one- a bit more than a peck on the lips, but not much more. "Thank you."

It's not /quite/ unexpected, but nor is it pursued; Summer merely squeezes Miles' hand and turns back to watch the storm. "I know," she says. "It's all so … interconnected. And /so/ big at the same time." She breathes a happy sigh, settling in to watch as the storm roils around them. The shield of winds buoying them up is almost visible, the rain taking on a different direction when it hits.

Miles, for his part, simply wraps his arms around her waist from behind and watches the weather over her shoulder. "It's amazing. The fact that you can direct even a small part of it is even -more- amazing, I think. I'm just…surprised you ever stay on land at all, actually."

There's a moment's tension in Summer's frame as he hugs her from behind, her smile slipping before she shakes her head at her reaction. Her response is, perhaps, more prosaic than the situation warrants: a chuckle, and, "I'm too fond of my family and my friends. And eating. And all the rest of the stuff that's on land."

"Well, that's fair." A pause, and then a snort. "You know, I hate to say, and I beg you not to drop me for this, but you're probably the most grounded person I've met since I started going here."

"Comes with being raised by my Mom," is Summer's simple response, watching sheet lightning spread through the clouds. "'Practical' isn't quite the word for her, but there's something like that. She's the strongest person I know. When do you want to go back?"

"Great show, beautiful girl? I don't have to be anywhere for a long, long while." Miles seems comfortable enough right where they are. "So whenever you want to go back, but until then, I'm pretty set."

The storm's been nearing land while all this has been going on, swept in by the evening sea breeze; it's not Cove City it's right over, but a less-populated area of Maryland. There's a wry sort of chuckle from Summer. "A little uncomfortable with that," she admits, measuring a small span between her fingers, though she gives his hand a gentle squeeze with her other.

"Sorry if I'm coming on a little strong, it's just…I'm not sure. Mostly just that you try. You make eye contact even if you can't see my eyes, you bother to try to touch me when it's appropriate. Most of my contact with people in the last year's either been accidental or punching." He sighs. "I didn't really realize I missed it until I started getting it again." A pause. "Though some of it's not just me, is it." A pause. "I mean; it seems like there's something bothering you more than just a fella being a little too interested."

That earns a droll smile from Summer, tilting her head back to look at him. "I had it banged into my head by a friend that overlooking a person because of something you're not used to, be it physical or non, is the worst way to deal with anything. Besides, I've always been a very huggy sort of person." His second point makes her think, hands resting upon his around her waist and drumming an idle beat. "No, it's pretty much just me being uncomfortable with what you seem to want from me and rather than let it build up until my temper explodes, I'm going to say something about it. I've known you for, what, a week? As nice as making out /is/, I kinda like to know I like a guy. And I don't know that about you yet."

"That's…fair, I guess. I…maybe I'm just a little too attention starved just yet to know for sure myself, but, well, I know that I think I know, you know?" A sigh. "So we'll just have to get to know each other better, first." He glances out at the storm again. "I've got to say though, if you were worried about a -sunset- being too romantic…"

"I know that you think you know I know that you know?" Summer asks. She's still looking to where he /ought/ to be in the storm, which is dissipating over the land, the rumbles of thunder easing off a bit. "Convoluted there, Miles." She winces, though, at his last comment. "Give me a break! I've never actually taken anyone flying before, much less storm-watching, and who in the movies even goes 'ooh, a storm, how /romantic/!'"

Miles says, "Hey, I'm just saying. It's was beautiful, and not something I'd ever had a chance to view before, and you just sort of came alive when when we were in the thick of it, you know? I mean even if I weren't interested before I probably would have been then and there. Your smile was fantastic, your eyes were brighter- almost glowing, even. Like everything beautiful in the storm got reflected in you." Miles pauses, then. "Er…sorry.""

Summer laughs. "You're laying it on a bit thick there, Miles," she points out, sliding just out of his grasp as the storm eases off. "It's going to die down more as it goes overland, though." She seems halfway relieved and halfway disappointed; the dangers of a thunderstorm overland are widespread, but at the same time, the slow death of the stormfront does give her a moment's pause. "And besides, I'm more fond of sea-storms than land-storms." She tugs his hand, giving the soaked-through uniforms a bit of relief as she pulls warmer air around them as they head back towards the northwest, and the campus.

"Yeah. Too many editorials in the school paper, what can I say? But you really did look great." He relaxes some as they fly back towards campus. "So not only can you ignore the cold, you can be as dry as you want? Handy."

"Sometimes," is Summer's response as the coastline flashes beneath them. "If I'm handling too much, I can run into trouble; I was sick for a week after one time." She shivers with recollection of the post-hurricane illness, but begins to descend when the familiar landmarks of Cove City show up. The trip to the campus is quick, and soon enough, Summer's bidding Miles a good night while disappearing into her room.

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