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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"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.

That's almost easy to answer: she lets out another low howl that easily passes for a "noooooo." If it makes the larger Andrew feel any better, her tail is wagging.

Fortunately, between the three of them, they manage to remember the directions. There's a bit of debate at the third fork, but by that point they're close enough that Daine can smell the medbay, so she breaks the Andrews' tie and leads them down the left-hand passage.

The larger Andrew regrets by now his decision to merge -- if he'd stayed separate, the one with the hurt leg could have ridden Daine, and the other could have walked with a lot less pain. As it is, the Andrew who gets to ride is the one who has only light soreness from a lot of walking to complain about, which strikes the limping Andrew as distinctly unfair.

He says so aloud at intervals.

"Here we are!" chirps the smaller Andrew as they enter the familiar doorway, feeling considerably more cheerful than his counterpart. "I told you so," he adds, even though he was the one arguing to go the other way a minute ago.

"Whatever, space-runt," grumbles the bigger one. "Just go up and fetch the scanner, will you?"

By the time they actually step into the medbay, Daine's had more than enough of their collective whining and squabbling. Her own tiredness doesn't really help matters, of course, but the result is this: by the time he calls himself a 'space-runt,' she's cranky enough to flatten her ears and give him a proper snarl. She knows he can't hear her frustrated, Enough!, but her body language is probably conveying as much.

At least his merging has one bonus: because he's injured, it wouldn't be sporting of her to knock him down and roll him onto his back like a misbehaving cub. Even despite his injuries, she's awfully tempted.

If she tries it, she might end up with more of him. Andrew quickly withdraws his hand from her shoulder, stumbling a step away from the suddenly snarling wolf beside him. Even the one on her back shuts up, sitting up straight and carefully trying not to call attention to himself.

"My, grandmother, what big teeth you have," mutters the one who's currently the subject of her ire. Eying her warily, he asks, "You alright?"

That's not really the reaction she was going for, and she settles her lips back over her teeth with a grumble that manages to convey both embarrassment (for losing her temper and spooking him) and reproach (because he was being a bit hard on himself). Unfortunately, that seems to be Andrew's default when dealing with his other selves, but that doesn't mean she's required to like it.

She's also not very pleased by the question. She's in better shape than he is, obviously, and considering how many other Andrews are still out there, they've both got better things to worry about whether she's all right. She swivels her ears back and forth indecisively, like a shrug, then yawns. It's a gesture she chooses more for the calming effect it would have with the Pack than because it's an accurate portrayal of how she's doing, but... it is also an accurate portrayal of how she's doing.

Yes, well, there are a few subtleties of canine communication Andrew tends to miss. None of the dogs ever snarled at him like that, and the creatures who have have tended to be ones intent on eating him. Of course, knowing that Daine will get all apologetic if he acts startled just might teach him to act startled whenever she tries to scold him.

"If you could please take me over to that workbench..." suggests the Andrew atop Daine, suddenly much more polite than he has been in a long time.

Does he really think Daine would bite him, let alone eat him? Snarling aside, he really ought to know better. There are only so many ways she can express annoyance when she's in animal shape, after all.

At least the suddenly polite tone from atop her neck is a pleasant change. It takes her a moment to reconcile her idea of what a workbench would look like with her slick, clean surroundings, but once she spots the only bit of furniture that could really qualify as a bench of any kind, she heads over and stands alongside it. It should be easy enough for the little Andrew to slide off and land on the bench from his current perch.

Edited 2013-11-16 06:34 (UTC)

Really, in his heart of hearts? Or really in the heat of the moment, when he suddenly has a snarling wolf within arm's length?

The bigger Andrew comes with Daine so he can keep leaning on her and tries not to chuckle at the smaller one's obsequiousness. Whatever bug Daine has up her butt, he doesn't particularly want to make it worse -- and really, they do have more important things to be worrying about right now. Arguing helps take his mind off his real troubles, but perhaps his troubles are where his mind needs to be.

The smaller one hops down onto the bench and goes clambering over and around things in search of the device he hopes is actually there. Fortunately, it is, and he picks up one end of the object to drag it within reach of the other Andrew. He doesn't get very far, as it's really too large for him, but luckily it's not far and the other Andrew is able to grab it from him. "Thank you," he says to both of them before sinking down to sit on the floor and start scanning away. "Look for the dermal regenerator, will you?"

One of these days, she'll have to teach him about wolves. From what little she's been able to gather, many of the two-leggers in this universe are more sensible about predators than people in her universe (though she suspects it's due to the fact that they never have to actually deal with them because their numbers are so dismally low). Andrew often gives the impression of being even more worldly than most folk, so she doesn't expect him to be ignorant about something as universal as wolves.

Now that the Andrews don't need her support, she backs up a few paces so she'll be out of the way and stretches out along the floor, her head resting on her forepaws. She pays close attention to what's going on, though, and quietly marvels at the various instruments he's using. She knows it's not magic, which is why it's so impressive - some of it's about as good as what a trained healer could do back home.

Maybe it's not wolves he doesn't understand. Maybe it's Daines, what with their tendency to get upset at him over the smallest things and to take the form of large and toothsome critters.

The two Andrews work together, the smaller one fetching the supplies and devices small enough for him to move, the larger getting up once or twice to pick something heavier up off the bench. There's a little bit of sniping back and forth, but nothing serious, and they seem to catch themselves and glance at Daine whenever it starts getting heated.

Finished, the bigger Andrew sits on the floor and frowns at the trouser leg he had to cut open. The trousers had already been a lost cause, but now he's got the pale skin of one newly healed leg just sitting out in the open air. The flesh is still tender, bruises showing, but much of the damage has been undone. "Ready?" he asks the smaller Andrew, holding up a hand for the other to step into. The smaller Andrew hesitates a second, then nods and lets the other pick him up, both of them forgetting to ask Daine to look away before he lets himself be absorbed into the other.

Maybe the way he always fights with himself isn't a small thing at all. He's her friend, and Daine defends her friends - even from themselves. And she might have the energy for a less toothsome shape if someone had been a little bit more forthcoming about how much trouble he was in straight away.

She doesn't miss the way they catch themselves when they start to argue a bit too much, though her only outward indication of any annoyance is the occasional flick of an ear. It's not exactly ideal, them only containing themselves because they're worried she'll fuss, but it's better than no change at all.

And whoops, there they go, merging right in front of her. She blinks, then gets to her feet. She stretches, toes splayed, and then gives herself a little shake before ambling over to Andrew and canting her head at him.

Andrew shifts slightly as his mass increases quite a deal more than it seems like it should given the small size of the Andrew with whom he just merged -- he'd be a whopping three and a half feet tall now if he were standing. Letting his legs flop out in front of him, he leans his head back and shuts his eyes, fighting for stability against the insistent cognitive dissonance of being two people at once. That was someone else, he reminds himself, compartmentalizing again. He'll have to properly integrate it all later, but it's easier once the memories are dulled by the passage of a few hours. And blimey he's annoying when he's bigger and insists on picking him up, and when he's littler and doesn't listen to what he's told.

Cracking an eye open, he reaches a hand out to pat Daine on the side of the face. "Just a mo," he tells her, shutting the eye again and trying to breathe deep.

While Andrew recovers himself, Daine decides to have a closer look at that leg. She shifts a little to the side so she can peer down her nose at it. There are still plenty of bruises, and she wonders if not fixing them was a deliberate choice, or just a limitation of the TARDIS's healing abilities. Granted, most healers back home wouldn't bother with bumps and bruises, either - not because they couldn't fix them, but because the energy spent on fixing little things might be better spent on something worse later in the day. Folk can live with bruises; a broken arm isn't so easy to work around.

Aside from the bruises, though, it looks all right. She bends a bit closer so she can sniff at it curiously. There's the slew of smells she'd expect: the park, traces of both cat and hawk, and Andrew himself. There's something else, though, that she can't place. Some residue from all those funny lights and things he was buzzing himself with? But since when does light have a smell? Interesting...

When Andrew finally opens his eyes, he's going to find a very intrigued wolf snuffling away at his leg.

Edited 2013-11-17 21:18 (UTC)

Andrew doesn't want to sit here all day when there's more of him to be found (though he's getting quite large now, isn't he? There can't be that many more out there). He needs to get the loose ends in his brain tucked away, though, if not actually tied up, or he'll be referring to himself in the third person and trying to go two directions at once.

He slits his eyes open after a while to find Daine snuffling with an intensity that surprises him. He watches for a few seconds before commenting, "Discover my animal magnetism, did you?"

Trying to parse that funny smell was distracting enough for her that she didn't quite realize how close she was starting to lean in, let alone that Andrew was watching her. She starts at the sound of his voice, his leg hair tickling her nose, then hastily rears back and turns away - just in time to aim her dramatic sneeze at an empty patch of floor instead of the one Andrew's occupying.

Well, that wasn't at all embarrassing. She licks her nose, then turns back toward Andrew, tail wagging sheepishly. You smell funny, she says, not that he can hear her.

Andrew laughs out loud before he can remind himself that Daine is not Harry and can understand perfectly well when she's the butt of a joke. It's hardly his fault, though, is it? "You're going to explain that later," he informs her, curious but aware that he won't be getting any answers out of her at present. Reminding himself again that she is his human friend, not his dog, he refrains from petting her and carefully stands up, testing his leg before he puts his weight on it.

"Molto bene," he says in relief when it proves solid. "That's me sorted -- we should get back up to the console room and see if there's any news."

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