bigapplesauce | HANDYSPLOSION [open to multiple]

Current Mood: shocked
Current Music: April 8, 2013

Entry tags:

HANDYSPLOSION [open to multiple]

Andrew is snooping, but he's not getting very far with it. The trouble with absurdly powerful, government-sanctioned entities is that getting inside the base of such an organization tends to be a bit more complicated than showing up with a forged Health and Safety ID card. Of course, he could probably get inside very easily if he simply went up to the front doors and announced himself, but somehow he doubts he'd be likely to come back out without making a grand production of escaping, and he doesn't want to be too late coming home and make James worry.

The other trouble with Romac is that they're too smart to have anything interesting going on outside. After quite a bit of loitering -- more loitering than is probably wise -- all Andrew's seen is fairly ordinary people going in and out of the building. Disgruntled at their failure to be even the least bit interesting, Andrew finally gives up in disgust and decides to walk to the rebel base in order to say hello to a few people and use their private library.

He makes it less than halfway to the park before disaster strikes. Later, Handrew will be mortally embarrassed that the crisis didn't come about because some Romac agent spotted him and decided to make trouble, or because he had to run to intercept an alien, or even because someone got it in their head to mug him. No, this disaster occurs simply because neither Andrew nor a certain speeding taxi driver happens to be looking in the right direction at the right time. As the meta-crisis steps out into the intersection of Lexington and 59th (against right of way, if he'd bothered to notice), there's a deafening screech, an impact, and Andrew quite unexpectedly shatters.

The reflex to use his power when surprised likely saves his life. Twelve tiny Andrews are scattered across the road a moment later, all of them stunned to one degree or another. As they recover and realize what's happened -- and hear the yells of a few people who saw -- they all take the same course of action:

Run.

Unfortunately, very few of them run in the same direction. There's no plan or pattern to it, and very quickly the Andrews scatter to the four winds -- or at least to the four corners of the intersection. There are a few shouts (even New Yorkers tend to notice when someone explodes next to them) and one person even stoops and tries to grab one of the four-inch-tall Andrews, but he has quite a bit of experience in running for cover.

[OOC: Let me know where you want to encounter one or more Andrews, and I will write up an explanation of how he got there. The accident occurred at E. 59th St. and Lexington Ave. (the game map might help you here), and the Andrews have gone in every direction. Some Andrews will take advantage of the nearby subway entrances; depending where he enters he could do as he intends and go northwest, or he could get on the wrong train and go northeast, which would take him past Romac housing. Really, anything is possible -- though he's trying to get to either the Rebels or the TARDIS, he could get lost in any direction, or stay stranded near the intersection. Just write a tag indicating where your character encounters an Andrew and I'll work it out (or you can PM me or ping me on AIM if you want to hammer it out together). He'll be staying in twelfths, since merging into sixths would make him a foot and a half high, meaning he'd be still too small to get around without trouble but too big to go unnoticed. There might be multiple Andrews traveling together, so let me know if you want two of them.]

UPDATE, November 14: Nine Andrews are accounted for so far. One Andrew each currently reserved for Lucy, Spike, and Topher, meaning no more Andrews are available.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hang back a little," Jennifer tells the Quarkbeast. Unlike the normal-sized people wandering the park, the Borrower will have a pretty good view of what's under the jacket, and she doesn't want to panic him (her?) any more than she has to. It doesn't help that if they're anything like Aglet, simply saying hello will be enough to about give them a heart attack.

Dropping into a crouch next to the shrub, she carefully leans over until she can see the little fellow sprawled beneath it. He looks exhausted, but maybe it's just as well - if he tries to bolt, he won't get too far too quickly. Now that she's found him, she definitely doesn't want to lose him.

"Excuse me," she ventures, keeping her voice low, "but you look like you could use some help."

Rassilon, but it feels good to get his weight off his feet and just lay here and breathe. Andrew wonders how the other Andrews are getting on -- he saw one in the subway just as he was getting on the train, but the doors had shut before either could go to the other. He's resourceful, though, he decides. They'll all work it out, get somewhere safe, and figure out how to contact James or the TARDIS. Now, a payphone --

He's interrupted in the middle of pondering whether and how he could use a payphone in his current state by a surprisingly calm and polite voice above him. Andrew looks up sharply, expecting it to be someone speaking to another person on the path but still startled by the proximity of the sound. What he sees startles him further: a girl he doesn't know is staring down at him, probably has been for a few seconds now. Jolting to his feet, Andrew cranes his neck to stare back up at her.

"Er," he says stupidly, dumbfounded by her apparent non-reaction to finding a tiny person in the park. "Oh, ah. Er. No? Nnnno, I think I'm alright."

He edges away backwards a step or two as he speaks. It does occur to him that being carried would hurry things up considerably...but who is she? "Sorry," he says, confused and wary. "Have we met?"

She tries not to look concerned by his slow retreat. At least he hasn't screamed or bolted, giving him higher marks in the 'initial bravery' category than Aglet.

"No," she says with a reassuring little smile. "I'm Jennifer. I take it you've come through the rift, too?" Hey, establishing a rapport worked well with the only other Borrower she knows. Besides, despite not knowing that many other rifties, she feels a sort of fellowship with them that's not unlike the one foundlings share in her universe. Rifties, she thinks, ought to look after one another.

"Andrew," replies Andrew. He stops moving away, but remains poised for action -- her being a rifty is probably good news; at least she won't have the locals' fear of outsiders. Not that he's all that fearsome at the moment. Maybe she can help him.

He chuckles and nods, thinking it can't hurt to try to build a rapport. "What gave me away?"

That's a more normal name than she was expecting, and her smile widens in pleasant surprise. "Well, there aren't that many people here your size. Only one that I know of, actually - my flatmate." See? Some of her best friends are Borrowers.

Blink. Of all the things she might have said, Andrew wasn't expecting that. "Really?" he asks, instantly fascinated by the idea that she has a flatmate who stands four inches tall. He's quite forgotten about running, now. "That's got to be an adjustment. Mind you, at least you wouldn't have to fight over who left dirty dishes in the sink. Did she come that way?"

His enthusiasm for the idea is a bit more surprising than it ought to be. She'd expected him to be pleased to hear he wasn't the only titchy person running around New York, but the rest of his comments don't seem to quite fit. "He," she corrects absently, brow furrowing. "But yes, he did." For the most part. And speaking of size-related rift powers... "What about you? Are you a Borrower, too?"

"He," repeats Andrew, to cement the information in his mind and to be polite, more or less. He notices the shift in her demeanor, but it's only just now that it occurs to him that she probably thinks this is normal for him. "Not generally," he replies. "'Neither a borrower nor a lender be' -- well, alright, I do borrow and lend, but that's not what you mean, is it? Is that what your flatmate is?"

"That's what they're called in his universe," she confirms, resting her elbows on her knees. The Beast's leash is still curled loosely in one hand, but she doesn't anticipate him taking off. Chances are, the most interesting thing the Quarkbeast is bound to see today is the little fellow Jennifer's talking to, and this particular Quarkbeast has been very good about not dragging her around the park on her face. Back in her own universe, the simple solution would have been letting go and saving herself the injury, but one thing she very much doesn't want to do is lose the creature here.

"So, did someone else shrink you, or did you do it to yourself?" she asks, raising an eyebrow down at him. She'd guess the former - otherwise, she can't imagine why he'd want to poke around the park in that state (isn't he worried about hawks?), or why he wouldn't just grow back to normal now that she's sussed him out.

"And they're all this size?" Andrew grins. "That's adorable. Don't tell him I said that." And don't tell Andrew he's adorable. Best not linger on the subject, actually.

Of course, the subject of how he came to be this way requires revealing personal information, but she does seem friendly, and he really could use some help getting to the TARDIS. "Both, sort of," he replies, making a face. "I'm not sure it's technically shrinking, though there is a good bit of mass that goes unaccounted for. I've split into pieces." To himself, he adds forlornly, "Rather a lot of pieces this time."

"Borrowers are," she says, grinning back at him. "They have regular humans there, too, though. He calls them beans." Speaking of adorable.

When she hears what's happened to him, she winces. That sounds... uncomfortable. "Maybe I can help," she offers, because even if he's not a Borrower, he is a fellow rifty. More to the point, she's pretty sure he won't get very far as he is. Inclining her head in the general direction of her flat, she asks, "Were you trying to get back to the apartment building?" Because he is not crossing several busy streets while fun-sized. She can see to that much, at least.

Beans! It sounds like something out of a children's book, and Andrew couldn't be any more delighted to hear it. It's too bad he's not going to get to meet this flatmate; maybe he'll have to go for a visit when he's back to full size.

"Oh! No, I just came from that way -- I'm trying to meet up with a friend of mine, actually, she's...hang on." Andrew trails off and squints in the direction Jennifer indicated, not that he can see anything. But that is the direction he came from, he's sure of it. "Don't you mean that way?" he asks, pointing the other direction.

Be careful what you indirectly wish for, Andrew. Jennifer follows his pointing, then shakes her head. "No, it's just a few blocks over there," she says. Then again, if Andrew's a reasonably competent adult when he's not busy being an action figure, maybe he has his own place. "I'm talking about the company flats," she clarifies. "Sorry - I take it you don't live there?"

He's pretty sure it's that other way, though. "No," he says thoughtfully. "I don't. But you do, I take it."

The rebel apartments are on the other side of the park, aren't they? He hasn't exactly had occasion to go there, but he's fairly good at remembering these things. And she said company, which would be an odd way to describe it.

"What company would that be, exactly?" he asks, deciding to just come out with it.

She furrows her brow at him, a bit taken aback by the question. As far as she knows, there's only one company that makes rift-related things its business; the rebels hardly count. Surely he's heard of ROMAC, so why the shiftiness? Is he worried that she might be a rebel?

"The only company that bothers itself with the rift," she answers. "Unless you're counting the so-called rebels for some reason, but I wouldn't." She's heard rumors about the state of their facilities, and she can't imagine them getting much actual work done.

The Beast, meanwhile, has grown bored with hanging back politely. His claws click against the pavement as he ambles around Jennifer to get a better look at Andrew. At least he refrains from opening his mouth, but there's no question of him being a dog or not: he is decidedly not.

Andrew sniffs a big sniff. ROMAC, then, no doubt about it. Presumably not one of their higher-ups, given her age, but apparently quite loyal to the cause. Best not disclose his own connections, though he's not exactly aligned on either side. "Oh, good," he says, brightening. "For a second I thought you might be one of them--"

He's interrupted in the middle of his little act by the appearance of a -- what is that? Andrew stares, tense again. "What?" he asks, looking quickly at Jennifer -- but then bringing his gaze quickly back to the animal lest it move suddenly while he's looking away.

And for a second, she thought he might be one of them. But perhaps not, considering how pleased he seems to find she's with ROMAC.

She lifts a hand in a placating gesture once the Beast appears. "Quarkbeast," she says. "Don't worry, he won't hurt you. He's a sort of... pet." Slash bodyguard. Slash recycling plant.

Raising a stern eyebrow at the Beast, she adds, "I asked you to hang back." The Quarkbeast has the decency to look a bit guilty, it's club-like tail twitching in a wag.

"I take it your universe is a bit different to here," says Andrew absently, backing away a step despite her assurances and the wagging tail -- or maybe because of the wagging tail; even that looks like a weapon. "Or his, at any rate. Ah -- don't take this the wrong way, but...."

And then he dodges around the other side of the shrub. He's not trying to leave, just get something between him and the Quarkbeast.

"Not as different as you'd think," she replies with a little shrug. "Quarkbeasts are non-evolutionary creatures. They were created by the Mighty Shandar. He was showing off." He wasn't the only one, but he'd definitely won the 'weird invented creatures' contest.

"Quark," the Beast says, all mournful resignation. He's used to getting this kind of reaction, but that doesn't mean he likes getting it.

"If it makes you feel any better, he prefers eating metal," she says, craning her neck around the other side of the shrub. Which isn't to say that meat is off the menu, but metal is the real favorite.

"Shandar? Shandar..." Andrew thinks to himself. "No, never heard of him. Is that something people do where you come from, then, invent creatures? Not unheard of, but that's a bit unusual for a human culture. Assuming you're human?"

And when did he start always assuming that? Honestly, he's becoming so parochial. He watches to be sure the beast hasn't followed him, feeling a little bad about it sounding so let down. Maybe if he were bigger he wouldn't mind saying hello to it properly. He'll do that when he's back to normal, he tells himself.

"Yes, I'm human," she confirms, too familiar with how the rift works to find it that odd a question. "But inventing animals doesn't happen in my universe anymore. Not enough crackle." She shrugs again. "But even when there was plenty of wizidrical energy going around, only a very powerful wizard could whip up a whole new animal. It was a fad."

"...Wizidrical energy." Well, that's a new one. Andrew's not going to disbelieve it automatically -- there's a Quarkbeast right around the other side of this shrub right now, for one thing -- but he feels the same healthy doubt he usually feels when people start talking about magic. At least the way she talked about energy sounds like there's a system to it, though what sort of energy they must be tapping into he doesn't know.

"That's a fair bit different," he points out, amused.

"... True. It's been an adjustment." Not least of all because she'd been acting manager of one of the biggest magical institutions on the planet, and now she's essentially a paper-pusher. Which beats having to go back to school, of all things, but it's still significantly less exciting than what she's used to.

But they're getting sidetracked. "Look," she says frankly, "I can't just leave you out here. Is there anywhere I could, er, carry you?" At least she's not unfamiliar with having tiny humanoid passengers.

Ooh, and she's practical, too! Thing is, while Andrew feels a twinge of hope at the offer, and while he would have loved to accept it about five minutes ago, she's an agent of ROMAC. Or a ward of ROMAC, perhaps, but it still amounts to the same problem:

He can't let her know where the TARDIS is. Or that the TARDIS exists at all, frankly. His secondary option of going to the rebel base is similarly out of the question, and while he could stand to risk himself by letting her in on the location of his home, he won't put James in that danger. Topher's never ratted on them, but him knowing is already too much. He sniffs in another deep breath, feeling suddenly very stuck indeed.

"My flat's in Chelsea," he finally says, deciding it's safe enough to let her know the neighborhood. "But I don't imagine you want to take me that far -- really, I'll be alright on my own. I've got through worse scrapes."

It's a greater distance than she'd planned on traveling. She doesn't even have cab or train fare on her, and taking the Beast with her might be a bit complicated. Of course, not taking the Beast with her can be complicated, too. The creature has been allowed to accompany her to work because he's well behaved and it keeps him happy (and probably because everyone is a bit terrified of what he'd get up to if he suddenly stopped being happy and well behaved). They aren't really used to being separated for any great lengths of time... but she's managed before, with the old one. If she explained things, surely the Beast would be all right with spending a few hours in the flat without her.

Although then there's Aglet. She might be all right leaving the Beast at home, and the Beast might not mind, but the Borrower probably would. Damn. Well, she'll cross that bridge when she comes to it. Aglet ought to understand the importance of helping someone else his size, anyway.

"If it's too far for me, what's it for you?" she asks, eyebrows raised. "I don't have cab fare or anything on me, but we could swing by my flat and get some. I'd rather do that than leave you out here to be eaten by a hawk or something."

Edited 2013-10-26 20:37 (UTC)

HANDYSPLOSION [open to multiple]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)