The Flight

[Gildarts]

When Christa climbed aboard the magnificent plane, it was hard not to notice that it was the Titanic of planes. If a plane ever needed a use for a fucking chandelier, this one had two, serving no other purpose than just to be called the most extravagant piece of garbage in the sky. Not far down from where she was sitting, sat Karl Jak, the man who had discovered this verse. She stood (sat) no shorter though they shared the same room, and thought herself nothing less, for she was a secondary gone Prime, and that, perhaps, was a feat in itself.

Christa's fiery eyes had dampened slightly as she boarded the plane, now stowing the other envelope, and the picture in one of her pockets. The other one was white and said 'do not open' as well as there was a date attached. She didn't like what kind of game the kidnapper was playing, it was ridiculous, and put Christa in a bind. The woman couldn't exactly storm over to save her sister with the man somehow knowing her every move. Hard to plan a counter attack against a man who has eyes seemingly everywhere. The sniper was looking disgruntled, as she cast a glance around them. There was a teeny bit of turbulence, and Christa cringed and looked at the ice rattle in his drink.

Abner stood next to her, she hadn't even thought to ask what he was doing on this fancy flying machine, her thoughts had been trapped elsewhere, but now she had her answer. "Following you." Tch. She should have known.

Christa now took the time to summon a new phone in her hand, watching perhaps, a little too long as the Omnillium formed into the solid shape of a cellular.

She did not call the kidnapper, he could call her. He could have the illusion of power, but once Christa had her bartering piece, the game would change. Instead she sent a simple text. "On plane, who's the girl and where can I find her?"

"Christa that won't send, you're on a plane," Abner voiced rationally.

"Airplane mode be damned. I'm getting my sister back." Though the face of the black-haired girl had been put away, Christa couldn't help voicing, "Why would he think she's even on this island anyway? You know what? I think I'll go ask the master of the Danteverse. We don't even know what we're getting ourselves into."

He smirked at her surprisingly 'positive' morale, "What, are you gonna punch him, too? Because that is not a habit we need to be getting into."

Christa grinned, but had no intention of punching the classy man. She took a moment to glance out the window, and saw but sea. Abner was invited to their little interrogation, but it was a wordless invitation, as it would be, coming from her.