faeriecrone

It used to be a GOSAZ emergency airfield, now an aircraft graveyard, and a haven for off-grid squatters. The full moon glowed pink in the sky grime, and Nuri threaded her bike through without lights, her green eye bringing skeletal fuselages into view like great metal shipwrecks. She threw her leg over and hopped off, running the motorcycle up the cargo ramp of an old C-130 hulk. It creaked and banged with the wind. She knew the plane well, used it as an equipment drop often. She leaned her bike against the side of the bay, threw a tarp over it and looked around. She had somewhere to be, but this place always made her pause. Wasn't that lon

It used to be a GOSAZ emergency airfield, now an aircraft graveyard, and a haven for off-grid squatters. The full moon glowed pink in the sky grime, and Nuri threaded her bike through without lights, her green eye bringing skeletal fuselages into view like great metal shipwrecks. She threw her leg over and hopped off, running the motorcycle up the cargo ramp of an old C-130 hulk. It creaked and banged with the wind. She knew the plane well, used it as an equipment drop often. She leaned her bike against the side of the bay, threw a tarp over it and looked around. She had somewhere to be, but this place always made her pause. Wasn't that lon