[The Cure, Other Side] Get to the Chopper

The Hedge had signaled he was no longer alone for the tail end of his jaunt as it rippled the terrible hungry aura in his direction ahead of its travel. Things were about to get more interesting than he had planned for. To stand a chance he was going to need glamour. He saved on the precious resource by using the key for the exit gate: the torn cards from a winning hand of high stakes Blackjack.

He had a good estimation for what was soon to follow. This time it would not conveniently run by him for another target. It was immediately necessary to be out of sight from the gate to force it to expend its energy looking before doing anything else. He had the edge while in the Hedge and he had the opportunity to pick the angle of escape here as well, at least to start. It had to be good. Was it the front streets, the obscured multilevel parkades with plenty of foliage, the nearly empty back streets, the underground water channels that most people had no idea existed? In any case he needed to get to a raised structure where a helicopter could approach from the opposite side of a tall building. He needed to get to the top of either Treasure Island or the Palazzo or a parking structure at around the time of Henley's arrival. Carrying an unconscious man through downtown Las Vegas was bound to attract some attention. So would a horse running with the same on its back. It was a tall order.


Forgetting the dream of the horse, his limbs, gate, and poise all adjusted to the renewed shape of a man shouldering the weight of another. Pulling his phone with his free hand he made a quick check of the incoming message. The message from Miller read, 'Child hunter looking for Tanner.' A foreboding warning to be sure.

"Hi, Bixby, call Henley." The phone paused a moment as it opened a connection with the customary beep of a call beginning through his earpiece; he allowed the phone to slide back into his pocket as it worked. Setting to motion with no time to waste he made his way seeking to put tall objects, difficult terrain, and distance between him and what followed. "Huntsman chasing me. Top of Treasure Island Hotel. I'll make my stand there. Tanner's in a coma." The Beast huffed with the effort and kept his communication to short bursts while moving.

Thinking on his feet, he decided to put societal barriers in the path of the child Huntsman. No children would be allowed in bar area or the casino proper. Slipping in the door leading to those areas he made for the complementary wheelchairs immediately and tossed his coat over the most grievous of Tanner's injuries. It was the best he could do to avoid attracting the wrong attention. Then it would be a straight shot to the elevators to pair up with someone going up to their room, just in case the elevator was wired for card readers with floor lockouts. He wasn't familiar with this particular hotel's setup so he needed to be prepared. Frequently hotels locked out stairwell access going up from the lobby except from the other side. He only needed to get to the other side of that initial security and harvest glamour while coolly enduring all the awkward attention and deflecting with circumstance. 

Tanner winced through some element of inner nightmare. "I know mate, we'll get you where it's quiet really soon. It's okay." Flashing a polite smile after a glance at the board, "Oh same floor thanks." 


When the elevator started in motion he took the lull in action to position a small piece of bird claw under his tongue for what was likely to come.

Heavy rain thundered down in Las Vegas, a sudden torrential downpour beginning in the area around the Strip. Along with the rain and thunder came the basso woomp-woomp-woomp of a helicopter hovering close to terra firma. As Gavin exited onto the roof, the helicopter pivoted on its axis, hovering about a foot above the massive hotel's roof with its side door open to Gavin. Wearing his pilot's helmet and a pair of mirrored aviators, Nate Henley was sitting in the front seat, one hand on the stick and the other flashing him a thumbs-up.

The free hand waved frantically as he beckoned the Razorhand forward to join him. He reached back and tapped the headset that they would need to effectively hear each other without shouting over the rotors and the howling storm that he had summoned.

As Gavin turned to haul the door shut, he only had heartbeats to witness the door darken to the small glowing frame of a wisp, ticking a hair to the side as he swung Tanner's weight and used the torque to bend with the blur of a greatsword embedding itself in the frame of the helicopter's deck. The metal clanged with intense power as the force rippled through the skeleton of the vehicle, like a bell had been rung. Sparks in the Beast's vision made him question whether he had just witnessed his Cunning and Henley's Fate fray as a blade was drawn across the seams of magic. 


The skin was sunken; the mad concert of the Midsummer's Dream and moths tore through the Huntsman's throat as the Title's purpose charged to the forefront. 

"̵̤̀́͂M̵̘̳̈̐͘I̶͎̓̎S̶̨̨̫̀T̶͈̗͉͑͝Ḙ̷͙̃R̵̯̀͘ ̴͕͌M̶̪̈́̽Ȅ̴͎R̵̨̙͝ͅM̷̠̈A̶̛͚͒̎I̸̦̺̎̃̍D̷̦̂̏̎,̵͇̝͊ ̸̗̮̼̊̂̏

 C̴̢͎̫̐̈́̂O̸̘͓̯͋̂͠M̷̥͋̋E̸͙͆̔ ̵̤̦͈͌͠͠D̴͕̞͌͊Ő̴̳͛̎W̸̥̰͂̒N̵̻͗̄̄ ̸̡̯̀͒̚F̸̥̥̳̿̕R̴̢̍̊̚O̶̺͝M̷̞̗̓̓͒ ̶̨͂Ţ̶͆̌Ḩ̴͚̰͋E̴̡̋̐̌Ŗ̴̻̄̉͌Ę̵̘͖́̚!̶͕͇́͆̿"̸̟̆̅

As Henley rotated the chopper, he maintained enough control to not throw Gavin and Tanner from the open door. The Twilit Page's dead weight rolled with drop as Gavin skittered and held for balance where gravity temporarily took a vacation, and he watched as the sword dislodged itself and moved at imperceptible speed. A blink and it was gone, or rather, it flung through the cockpit, sending chips of glass and sparks as it spun off along the console and back into the downpour. 

Henley's helmet wailed as alarms started to inform him of the damage.

Damage klaxons wailed as electronic systems and aerodynamics struggled against the massive tear the Huntsman's greatsword had torn across the front. Henley grit his teeth, floating a bit of Glamour for future use even as he continued to push the stick forward and to the right. The chopper worked its way around Treasure Island in a downward corkscrew until finally the vehicle was facing west, toward Spring Valley...

...toward salvation in the form of a kid far too smart for his own good and a stock brokerage blessed by the Wyrd.

The corkscrew motion is hard to track as the helicopter speeds up, but the Huntsman's aim is true. The sword whirls through the air -- but Henley catches it coming out of the corner of his eye and suddenly cants the vehicle upward. The blade whirls inches from the bottom, taking a bit of paint off the stanchions as the chopper pilot deftly evaded a blow that would have put the bird on its last legs.

"WOOOOOO!"

The helicopter suddenly snapped to even with the horizontal plane, heading toward Spring Valley.

"The Bargain's west -- we got this --"

"Roger," Henley replied, punching it westward as the helicopter picked up speed. They weren't out of this yet...