X-Men:Evolution/Girl Genius crossover. Perhaps Forge’s dimensional tinkering goes awry yet again? I’d be curious to see as to how you’d do it…. :3
Somewhere outside of Mechanicsburg…
Gil was cold. This was not a surprise because he was in the middle on the very pointy mountain range that was part of the geographical defenses of Mechanicsburg. The plus point about being stuck in the middle of an impassable mountain range were thus: He was a Spark and therefore prepared, he was perfectly safe for limited definitions of safe, and he was far, far away from Othar Trygvassen - Gentleman Adventurer.
So far, his patented warming device had melted a hole in the mountain he perched upon, his equally patented expanding tent had literally taken one look at the scenery and flown away, and he had set up a common unpatented trivet over the hot hole and begun a seething pot of mimmoth scubbo.
Now all he had to do was be hungry enough to want to eat it.
Gil added another handful of snow to the pot in the hopes that it would give him an excuse to delay eating the horrible stuff. He took an inventory of his pockets, just in case they’d changed into something useful.
“What are we going to do, Wulfenbach? Sit and wait to be rescued? What else can I do except fall off one of these mountains and die? Brilliant solutions don’t fall out of the sky!”
“WAUGH!”
Something warm and lanky and green landed in his arms. Gil blinked.
She was too tall and too thin. Brown hair. Brown eyes. A mottled green-blue all over. Definitely not enough clothing. And looking incredibly annoyed.
“He swore I was cured,” she said, sounding almost british, but not quite. “I am going to have a long and involved chat with mister Walkingbird when I get home.”
Gil, meanwhile, carefully put her down and offered his coat whilst simultaneously blushing and averting his gaze. “I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re talking about, miss…?”
“Sara Louise Adrien. Rather secretly glad of this intervention, actually. This mightily muscled moron calling himself the Juggernaut threw me into small vehicles air space. I’m not good with heights, so… very happy there was a mountain in this reality.” She shrugged into the coat, which came up short on her, and crouched in the leeward shelter Gil had been using. “Still, this gives me plenty of time to RTFI on my new toy.”
A small packet came out of one of her many belt-pouches, and a tiny, tiny book, which the green girl flipped through with apparent disinterest.
“Gilgamesh Wulfenbach,” said Gil. “Um. Where did you come from?”
“Are you familiar with multiversal theory?”
“Multiwhat?”
“Then suffice to say I fell out of a hole in the sky.” She reached the end of her little book and tucked it back into a pouch. “Seven thousand-plus words to say, ‘hang on to the blue handle and press the red button’. Tch! Some people! Mister Stark is about to get snarked.” Sara walked back out into open space, unwrapping the odd package as she went. “Please stand back, you don’t want to get hit by a wing. Heh! Dinged by a wing!”
She held it over her head - by the blue handle - and said, “By the Power of Greyskull!” as she pressed the red button.
There was a complicated noise, and suddenly she was holding a gigantic set of silver wings with handlebars. “Grab hold, I’ll give you a lift.”
“A lift? But there’s no motor…”
“I’ll explain the principles on the way,” said Sara. “Or… you could stay here and eat…” she sniffed. “Boiled elephants and wool?”
They improvised some extra harnesses out of his belt and bits of his coat and then, despite everything he knew about aerodynamics, it lifted off in the wind. But the wings were way too big. And there was no gas bag. No motor to drive it. No controls to steer with. Apart from, as he found to his horror, leaning the right way.
It was the most terrifying ride of his life.
“Now all we have to do,” said Sara, “is hope I don’t fade back to whence I came before I can drop you off.”
“…aim for the really big airship?” Gil begged.
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