During the planning process, Adrian was filled with unbridled optimism. Even if the experiment was a failure, he would still be happy to know that he had tried, for nothing was a sure thing in life but death. Now, in the belly of that great flying duck... His lunch boiled in his belly and he was beginning to have some second thoughts. His deep blue eyes reflected a great dismay as the German leaped out of the plane, shouting some Rhinelandish obscenity as he went. "Damn kraut," he wheezed, feeling his elbows shaking from within his own jacket. Far below, he saw Kohler sparkle out of existence, and into some other land.<br/><br/>Looking over to Susan and Florence, he gave a brave nod and stepped closer to the doorway. "I would normally say ladies first, but I have a distinct feeling this is not one of those times!" He shouted, soon out of breath from their altitude and the volume needed to relay his message.<br/><br/>Funny enough, the last thing that went through Adrian Muir's mind before he jumped from that plane was the need to have something to yell as he jumped. He pondered for a moment before he smiled, the expression giving his face a more youthful look. He was not even thirty, but he had been cursed by his genes to lose all the coloring in his hair very early, and many people mistook him for an older man who took good care of himself.<br/><br/>Adrian sucked in one last breath before he yelled, "YOOOOSEMITEEEEEEEEE!", after his favorite national park and he jumped out of the airplane... Very sloppily. His elbow crashed against the door as he jumped, sending him spinning with no coordination down to the earth. He was screaming now and he pulled the cord on his parachute, waiting for it...