bigapplesauce | HANDYSPLOSION [open to multiple]

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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.

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Unfortunately, all of a hawk's facial expressions look like reproving glares, so Andrew misses her meaning. It's hard to miss Secret's, though, or the way the smaller Andrew turns his head to look at him and sticks his tongue out.

"Stroller," explains the smaller Andrew as the larger one, a look of concern finally crossing his face, moves around to help. The smaller one shifts his weight so he can slide off, but the larger one carefully reaches over and puts his hands around his counterpart, helping lift him down.

"How bad is it?" he asks as he gently sets him on the floor, letting the other Andrew lay down on the glass before sitting down beside him.

"Bad enough," replies the other. "Nothing broken, I think."

Daine turns her head to train her eyes on Andrew's leg as Secret loops itself back around her neck. Not that she can see much besides the scuffed state of his trousers. Her eyes are good, but she doesn't have x-ray vision, and she's not about to change her head to dolphin shape. If nothing's broken, there'd be nothing for her to see, anyway.

Looking back up at the littlest Andrew's face, she lets out a concerned little cheep. However bad it is, she hopes she hasn't made it worse.

Andrew frowns down at the other Andrew, his expression thoughtful.

"If you absorb me, you might get hurt," points out the smaller Andrew, voicing what both of them are thinking.

The larger one nods. "Or it might mitigate the damage, since I outnumber you two to one. At least then I could get to the medbay under my own power, yeah?"

Daine rises to her feet and backs away a little, giving them room to work. She could get out and resume searching, but she'd rather see that Andrew gets himself sorted, first. Anyway, it sounds like recombining won't fix his leg, and if he does need a little help getting anywhere, she could take a sturdier shape.

Despite the fact that she's seen him merge back together before, she turns around, wings out to stop her slipping overmuch on the floor. (Whose idea were the glass floors, anyway? Does the Doctor have to mop them thrice daily?)

"Where's the Doctor?" asks the smaller Andrew.

The larger one waves a hand. "Off calibrating the scanners, I expect. You're too small to pick up -- and you're only the third Daine found the old fashioned way."

The two of them continue to chat quietly for a few moments, but it's clear they're coming to the same conclusion: he can hardly be hurt worse in combined form than the little one is now. Besides, this is an opportunity to experiment and see what does happen if one of him is injured.

From behind Daine comes a little hiss of pain as the bigger Handrew takes hold of the smaller, and then a moment later there's a little gasp and a thump as he combines and finds himself crouching on a leg that immediately gives out from under him. "Ooooh, should've laid down," he mutters to himself, sprawling and giving himself a moment before he tries to examine the leg and see how bad it is now.

Daine turns her head to look back at him, concerned. When she sees that he's flat on the floor, she turns around completely. Odd's bobs, so much for him making it anywhere under his own steam.

What other shape could she take? She doesn't want to leave him, even just to go out and retrieve the bathrobe. Finally, she settles on the shape most comfortable to her - besides her human one, anyway. Shutting her eyes, she thinks of the Pack. A few moments later, a wolf is standing where the hawk used to be. Daine stretches, then gives herself a little shake. Ahh, that's better.

And on the bright side: wolves are more expressive than hawks, and her paws have an easier time on the glass floor than her talons did. She ambles over to Andrew's prone form and lets out a low whine.

He's probably made it look worse than it is. The little Andrew had been in so much pain by the time they merged that he couldn't do more than lay there and look pitiful, but now he feels quite able to at least sit up. Or he would, if he didn't feel like all the blood has just rushed out of his head, and if he wasn't wincing and squinting at the ceiling as he struggles to integrate a third set of memories.

He squeezes his eyes shut as memories of flying lay themselves over top of memories of faffing about in the TARDIS while he waited for himself, his mind trying and failing to condense it into a single narrative. Willing himself to compartmentalize the experiences and temporarily file them away under 'things that happened to other people,' which usually seems to help him get past this stage, he finally opens his eyes to find a concerned wolf staring down at him.

"Ah," he says, reaching a hand up to pat the side of her face (really, he's never going to get out of the habit of treating her at least a little like an animal in these forms of hers). "Sorry about that."

Daine huffs a little at the pat, her breath ruffling his hair. He probably ought to know better, but it's easy to slip up, especially when she's not talking. Anyway, she's had far worse treatment at the hands of folk who didn't know there was a human mage inside whatever animal shape she was in. A few well-meant pats are easy to forgive, especially coming from someone as tactile as Andrew (honestly, it's a wonder he doesn't get even more handsy when she's in one of her fluffier shapes).

Since she's not sure how much longer he'll need to lie there and pull his memories together, she stretches out beside him with a yawn, her shoulder within easy reach should he need a little help pulling himself upright.

Edited 2013-11-12 05:45 (UTC)

If rushed -- and maybe she ought to rush him, considering there are more of him still on the loose -- Andrew could probably manage it now. With Daine's warm form beside him, though, it's more than a little tempting to take a minute or two to lay there and let things process. Her being in easy reach means that he soon stretches his arm out and starts patting her on the side, enjoying that fluff. Times like these, he misses his dogs.

"Right," he says at last, the thought of the dogs putting him in mind of James, which reminds him that there's still more of him out there to worry his partner with their absence. "No time for laying around. Come on!"

He chirps that last bit at her as if Daine's the one lollygagging, then eases himself up into a sitting position and braces himself against her to stand up. His leg twinges terribly when he puts weight on it, but now it holds.

Well, let's see. She was a crow for the better part of an hour before she first spotted him. Then there was an hour in cat shape, then back to human, then an hour and a half as a hawk, and now she's a wolf. What she ought to do is change back to human and have a snack and a nap - or at least the snack and a sit-down. That's doubtless what anyone who knew her back home would be frowningly urging her to do right now - Aly included. But Aly's not here, and there are too many Andrews who still need finding.

Ah, yes, there he goes, Daine thinks when she feels his little hand against her side. It reminds her of when she first showed Alanna's children her new shapeshifting ability. She probably should have guessed that their awareness that it was really her couldn't even begin to compete with the allure of being able to touch a wolf who they knew wouldn't ever bite them. Thom had tried to restrain himself, but the twins had been all over her.

She's actually starting to nod just a bit when Andrew speaks, and she startles a little, claws clicking against the floor. She waits until Andrew's found his feet and isn't putting so much weight on her before carefully climbing to her feet as well, tail waving encouragement. Keeping herself on his bad side so he can continue using her for support, she glances at the multiple exits and then cants her head at him. Where to?

Like Andrew knows about her limitations. He'd actually probably have the decency to tell her to go rest if he thought of it or if she commented about her current state, but as it is he's thinking mainly of his own mental exhaustion and the pain in his leg. And where has the Doctor got to? There's optimizing badly needed equipment, and then there's taking one's sweet time in the middle of a crisis.

Andrew leans lightly on Daine, frowning at the multiple exits from the room as he realizes he doesn't actually know where to go. He opens his mouth to tell her they need to go up to the console so he can ask the TARDIS, but is interrupted by a voice behind them.

"You would not believe the time I've had!" exclaims Andrew, slipping inside, glad the TARDIS door opened for him without any prompting. He stops as it clicks shut behind him, staring at the larger Andrew and the wolf. "...Not the first one here," he concludes. "And I'm going to assume that's Daine, because if it's not we really need to talk about who you let in here."

See, that's what she's thinking of, too. She probably has a few more hours of heavy magic use in her before it gets bad enough that she has to stop, but she intends to make use of those hours.

She's certainly not expecting any Andrews to make it to the TARDIS on their own, and she blinks at the newcomer in no small amount of surprise. How did he get here without any of the People noticing him and telling her? Then she remembers that she can't really hear the People out in the park when she's in here. Odd's bobs.

Well, he's right about it being her, though he's altogether wrong about wolves being bad company. She lowers her head and lets out a low groan of disapproval.

Oh, ye of little faith. So many Andrews would have made it here if they hadn't been intercepted by well-meaning (or not so well-meaning) people, you wouldn't believe.

No, really, she probably wouldn't, considering they obviously have not made it here on their own, on the whole. The little Andrew gives Daine a somewhat leery look, not sure what she means by all that groaning, and totters closer when it becomes clear his larger counterpart isn't going to come meet him at the door. "Two of us?" he guesses, eying the other.

"Three of us," says the Andrew leaning on Daine. "One injured -- let's not merge yet or I'll fall over again. We're on the way to the medbay."

Daine catches that look he gives her, and sighs. It's too bad Andrew's a two-legger; otherwise she could talk to him no matter what shape she's in. She lifts her head and wags her tail as he approaches, so at least she won't look so disapproving.

Then she turns her head deliberately toward each exit again, because seriously, Andrew(s), she has no idea where she's going.

The bigger Andrew turns to move, then halts again, following Daine's gaze. "Riiiiight," he drawls. "Or we were going, if we could work out which way. Come here and I'll lift you onto the console."

The little Andrew approaches, giving the larger one a dubious look. "Sure you're not going to keel ov--OI!" He's cut off mid-sentence due to having made the mistake of getting within arm's reach. The bigger Andrew snatches him up with moderate difficulty, wobbles in place and clutches at Daine's fur with his free hand to balance himself, then limps to the TARDIS console and deposits his loudly complaining counterpart upon it.

"Ask her for directions," demands the Andrew on the floor.

Honestly, these two. It's hard for her to express her general exasperation while she's focused on keeping the larger Andrew on his feet, but once the smaller one is safely placed up on the console and the larger one is no longer moving around, she's free to turn and eye him. He really ought to know better than to manhandle himself like that. If he were Pack, she'd probably snap at him (or snarl, at least), but he's not. So she settled for grumbling low in her chest and then pressing her cold, wet nose to his cheek. Be nice, Andrew.

"Bloody twit," mutters the tiny Andrew atop the console as he carefully navigates the controls in search of the correct display, mindful not to step on any switches.

"I heard that!" The bigger Andrew turns to look at Daine when she grumbles, then starts back in response to the wet nose on his skin. "What?" he asks. "We need directions, I'm too short to reach the controls -- he was going to end up on the console eventually, so why discuss it?"

Will he understand her meaning if she heaves a long-suffering sigh? Well, she's going to go ahead and sigh at him, anyway. Then she lifts her head to watch the smaller Andrew, wondering just what he has to do to get directions. She's big enough now that she could probably get her paws up on the console and reach things with her nose, but she doubts the TARDIS would appreciate it, and the idea of trying to manipulate any of those controls with just an impatient little Andrew to give her directions is not at all appealing.

Oh, he understands perfectly. He just chooses not to acknowledge that she might have a point. Just because he wouldn't like it if he were the smaller one doesn't change the fact that they're all going to be the same person again eventually, and until then he can do what he pleases to himself. He's the biggest, after all. Tough luck to the smaller one.

"Aha!" the smaller Andrew seems to have found what he was looking for. If Daine were to put her paws up there, she would see that the clattering sound that results is him pushing buttons on a typewriter, one at a time, throwing his whole weight into it. After a few moments, he calls down, "Door on the left, then right, then right again, right down the stairs, left at the third fork, first door on the right. Could've put it a bit closer, old girl...."

"Never mind," says the Andrew below, waving it off. "We'll manage. Come on, Daine, you heard him."

And he turns toward the door, ready to walk off and leave the other Andrew stranded without even thinking about it.

All right, that is taking his general rudeness towards his other selves too far. Maybe he's willing to abandon his fellow on the console until - what, until the Doctor arrives to lift him down? She's fair certain none of the Andrews would appreciate that, including the one who's all set to do the abandoning.

Well, she might be in wolf shape, but she's retained her manners, if not her patience. Leaving the taller Andrew to stand on his own for a few moments, she circles the console until she's closest to the little one. Then, with a mental apology the TARDIS may or may not be able to hear, she rears up and balances her forepaws on the very edge of the console, being careful not to hit anything. She lowers her head until her nose is between her paws and wags her tail encouragingly. It'll be rather awkward having him climb onto her head, but it's not as if he weighs anything, and he'll have a hard time keeping up if he's on foot, even with the bigger one all gimpy.

Besides, if both Andrews come along, they're more likely to remember the directions. Goddess knows she's going to have a hard time retaining it all.

"Where are you going?" asks Andrew petulantly as Daine pulls away too abruptly for him to follow, leaving him stumbling for balance on one good leg. While he's fairly certain he can walk on his own if he really needs to, having his support suddenly walk off without him is not exactly pleasant. "It's that wa -- oh."

"Thank you, Daine," says Andrew primly. Then he winces as he picks his way over beside her paw and gingerly climbs the side of her head. "And sorry -- ooh, sorry, didn't mean to tug on that -- there!"

As he perches atop Daine's neck, the other Andrew looks marginally sheepish and does his best to pretend he'd simply forgotten. "Thanks," he echoes. "I meant to do that."

She shuts her eyes in stoic acceptance as he accidentally gives her ear a good yank. Really, he would have been better off going straight up her nose, but she's not in any position to complain. Once Andrew feels settled, she pushes herself off the console, trying to land lightly so he doesn't end up flying right back off (though he is sitting almost right atop Secret, little as he probably knows it, so maybe the danger isn't all that great).

The looks she gives the larger Andrew is distinctly skeptical, even coming from a wolf. She ambles back over to him so he can lean on her again, then heads for the door on the left.

He didn't want to step on her eyes! Also it just seems like it would be really uncomfortable to have someone walking on your nose, though now that he's climbed her ear instead he's no longer sure he made the right call. Fortunately -- or unfortunately -- he has not yet touched Secret and has no idea it's there under her fur.

"Sure you did," he says once Daine's on all fours and he's over feeling like he's going to spill off over one side. Straddling her neck and getting a good grip on the abundant hair there, he adds, "We're going to have a talk about this later."

"No, we're not," says the larger Andrew, leaning on Daine and using her for support as they begin the trek. "Later I'll absorb you, and then you'll see that I was right."

This inability to really participate in the conversation is starting to frustrate her a little, not least of all because if she was talking, she'd like to think she'd have something less ridiculous and dismissive to say.

Well, just because she can't talk doesn't mean she has to be silent. Opening her mouth, she lets out a low, rhythmic howl, pitched to sound very much like: 'blah, blah, blah.' Except she can't really do 'b' sounds, so it comes out more like, "Wrah, wrah, wraaoh." That's how you sound, Andrew.

Both Andrews halt in their back-and-forth as Daine expostulates, almost as if they expect actual words to come out of her mouth. The one on her neck recovers first. "You said it," he grins, patting her.

The other frowns. "She was agreeing with me," he says, though he sincerely doubts it.

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