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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Andrew's not even thinking of staying hidden. He's imagining just flopping onto Edgar's hand and being lifted up and then being there. The suggestion of the pocket, therefore, is not entirely welcome...but even in his addled state, he can see the wisdom of it, at least after a moment or two of frowning like he's got a bad taste in his mouth. He nods his acquiescence.

"I'm not normally like this," he says, worried what Edgar must think of him and his tendency to go about at this size. Foolish, really. Why does he do these things?

Edgar, having no idea that Andrew isn't normally so small, thinks he's talking about his inability to stand.

Of course you aren't, he replies. You've hit your head. I'm sure if you weren't hurt you'd be just fine on your own. Edgar doesn't fully believe that last bit, but he can tell that Andrew's upset or worried about his current state and seeks to reassure him, at least a little.

Edgar flips over his hand so that it is palm-up beside Andrew, and waits for him to flop aboard.

"You've no idea," Andrew informs him. "I'm bloody brilliant, I am." And so modest, too!

He considers standing for a moment, then wisely decides against it and scoots his way over instead, climbing on with an awkwardness that makes him feel self conscious. It can't be helped, though; his limbs hardly want to obey him even now. Scooting his way to the middle of Edgar's palm, he swallows his pride and lies down to optimize his stability. "Beam me up, Scotty!"

Edgar arches an eyebrow at the boast, but frowns a little at the cheerful exclamation. He has no idea what it means and, given the way his day is going, it could mean anything. Deciding to ignore it, he carefully shifts himself onto his knees. Hold on, he tells Andrew.

Using his free hand, he pulls the opening to the pouch as wide as it will go and gently slides in the hand holding Andrew. He settles the hand at the bottom of the pouch and fluffs open the opposite opening to allow in air and light. He pulls his bag onto his shoulder, grabs Almondine's leash, and finally stands up.

Are you alright? he asks Andrew, wanting to make sure he's a secure and comfortable as possible before they head out.

Andrew does his best, but the movement makes him dizzy and he has to squeeze his eyes shut until he's inside the pocket. Not being able to see actually makes it worse, though, as what feels like a violent shift in altitude follows and leaves his head spinning.

"No," he mumbles in reply, rubbing his face hard with his hands despite the pain that blossoms in response. Louder, he contradicts himself with, "Yes."

Edgar knows that Andrew probably isn't alright, but it's the best he can do in the situation. Still, he grimaces slightly in sympathy. Sliding his free hand all the way through the leash loop, he signs to Almondine.

/Take it slow and easy,/ he tells her. /We have to be careful with Andrew./

Almondine gives him a look that can only be described as "Of course" and Edgar smiles.

Here we go, he tells Andrew. Trying to keep his gait as steady as possible, he sets out.

It's good that the end of the pocket is open; being able to see out at least a little -- and more importantly, getting fresh air -- stops Andrew from feeling entirely like he's being swung about in a burlap sack. Well, that and the hand holding him up. Still, it's not a pleasant ride from his perspective, and any charm that he might have found in being a passenger of this size is obliterated by his nausea and pain. He does his best to keep focused and alert (and not to vomit), but there's blackness creeping in at the edges of his vision.

They're waiting for the light to change five blocks on when Almondine looks up at Edgar and gives a faint wuff. Edgar frowns down at the pouch.

Are you okay? he asks Andrew. Do you need to stop for a minute? Just - just pat my thumb twice if you need me to stop, he adds, at a loss for any other way Andrew can respond. Or if anything's wrong.

The time between when they start and when Andrew awakens -- awakens? -- to find Edgar asking him a question is indeterminable, marked mostly by the shifting of the light. That he's slipped in and out of consciousness a few times isn't really clear to Andrew; each time it's like he's blinked and the light or the motion has changed around him.

Were he thinking straight, Andrew would not ask Edgar to stop, as there's little Edgar can do for him other than get him to the TARDIS as quickly as possible. He's not thinking clearly, though, and right now he's feeling stifled and unwell. He's also not sure which side of his hand Edgar's thumb is on, but he takes his best guess and pats in that general direction.

[OOC: Daine and another Andrew are looking for them -- let me know when you're ready to have them in this thread.]

There's an alley opening just a few feet away, and Edgar ducks into it, hiding himself behind a dumpster. With a quick glance to make sure no one is around, he carefully slides the hand holding Andrew out of the pouch.

Edgar's dismayed to find Andrew looks even worse than he did before they started out. He'd originally dismissed the faster option of taking the subway, worried Andrew might be crushed if anyone accidentally bumped into him, but now he's regretting that decision.

He bites back the usual "Are you alright?" which would not only be a ridiculous question, but entirely unhelpful.

Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you? he asks instead. I can make regular stops if you want me to. Or maybe try to hold you closer to the opening on the pouch?

[OOC: We can bring them in any time you'd like. If you want, I can have Almondine react to hearing from Daine in my next comment (or the one after), which could set up Daine and the other Andrew arriving shortly thereafter.]

"It's worse than I thought," mutters Andrew, squinting against the light. For the first time, he's starting to get properly frightened about how hard it is to keep his head straight. Shouldn't he be recovering? Shouldn't the world have stopped spinning by now? Shouldn't he know how long it's been since he went into that pocket?

He shakes his head, then strongly regrets it. "I need -- I need the TARDIS," he insists, failing to be helpful himself.

[OOC: /fails at tagging forever. That would be fine. :)]

Edited 2013-11-23 05:29 (UTC)

Deeply alarmed at Andrew's state (and his own inability to do much about it), Edgar feels panic creep in momentarily. But he fights it down, forcing himself to breathe deeply and slowly through the tightness in his chest. There's really nothing else to do but get Andrew to this TARDIS as quickly as possible. Knowing what that will entail, Edgar grimaces.

We're going to have to give up some steadiness for speed, he tells Andrew. It's going to be rougher going.

Eying the way Andrew is sprawled on his hand, Edgar has an idea. Carefully, he bends his thumb and pinkie finger until the their tips meet just above Andrew's chest. He gently closes the circle they make, fashioning a sort of seat belt around Andrew's middle.

Is this okay? he asks Andrew. It'll help keep you still while I walk, and give you something to hold on to if you need it.

"Wha...?" Andrew lifts his head to see what's got him pinned down, and for a moment looks like he's going to object. ~~Only James gets to tie him down.~~ He seems to catch on, though, or perhaps he's just not sure if it's something he should find objectionable. "I'm alright," he lies. "We can -- we can go."

Once more, Edgar cautiously slips his hand back into the pouch, trying to push it as close to the opposite opening as possible.

He turns to Almondine, prepared to give her the sign to keep up, but her attention is on the alley entrance. Her ears are pricked and her head is cocked, as if she is hearing something in the distance. She glances around as Edgar moves beside her and quickly sets off once she sees he is in motion.

By the time they reach the street corner again, she's broken into a trot and Edgar hurries to keep up, deftly weaving around pedestrians.

It's even worse than before, though Andrew's time out of the pocket has revived him at least a little. He clings to the finger and thumb holding him down, feeling like he's going to fall even with that support, and grits his teeth against the pounding in his head. How long should this take? How long can it take? How long has it even been? It feels like an eternity since they started.

Edgar doesn't realize he's doing it, but he's sending Andrew a steady stream of breathless reassurances, his own concern leading him to mentally babble.

Hang in there. We're making good time. You're going to be fine. We're almost there. Just a little further. It's going to be okay.

He's a little worried about Almondine, too. She's staying at the far reach of her leash, not quite dragging Edgar behind her (she's far too well-mannered for that), but definitely leading him. Considering that she's still following the direct line to the park, Edgar believes she's just doing her part to help him get Andrew where he needs to go as quickly as possible. She is managing to cut a swath through the pedestrian traffic that lets him more easily and swiftly move down the sidewalks.

Daine and Andrew had started out moving at a pretty good clip, all things considered, but once they actually left the park, they were forced to slow down - and stick a bit closer together. She doesn't want her lack of a leash to become too obvious, nor does she much want to aggravate Andrew's newly-healed leg. At least he can lean on her a bit if he needs to.

It isn't too long before she's within easy speaking range with Almondine, and after receiving a worrisome report on the other Andrew's condition, Daine assured the dog that she and another Andrew were on their way. Try to hurry Edgar along, she'd added, not liking how far they still are from the safety (and the healing technology) of the TARDIS.

After crossing 56th, Daine breaks into a trot again. She knows they're close, and when she finally spots them in front of a rather severe looking brown brick building on the far corner, she lets out a few barks to catch their attention, tail wagging. She throws a glance over her shoulder at her Andrew - that's Edgar! - and then breaks into a loping run to cover the last few yards between them.

How is he? she asks Almondine, her eyes worried despite her tail still going like mad. Any change?

Andrew tries to keep his head down, hoping the pedestrians among whom they pass will mistake him for a child. His proportions are wrong, but a casual glance might not register anything awry. Failing that, hopefully no one is rude enough to comment on a little person walking a dog as big as he is. Or jogging a dog, more like; he keeps having to break into a trot just to keep up with her on his stumpy little legs. ~~If only they had a little saddle for her to wear....~~

The only sign and explanation he gets for her dashing off ahead is an enigmatic glance over her shoulder, but Andrew gets it easily enough when he sees her go hurrying over to a young man -- or rather, to his dog. Andrew breaks into a run as well, stopping beside Daine with one hand resting on her side.

"Are you Edgar?" he asks, slightly out of breath and having to crane his neck to look up at the youth.

When Almondine suddenly stops, Edgar's surprised. Then a large dog bounds up to them, and he feels exasperation and a little anger rise at her actions. Of all the times for Almondine to be interested in another dog - she should know better.

But then something about the way the dogs greet each other stops him. Giving the bigger dog a once over, a suspicion blossoms in his mind.

/Daine?/ Edgar signs, cautiously hopeful.

Edgar blinks in surprise as what appears to be a child runs up to them, coming from the same direction as the dog. On second glance, he realizes that it isn't a child, and he recognizes the face.

/Andrew?/

Daine looks up at Edgar and lets out a short bark of confirmation. If only she could talk to him as easily as Almondine...

Well. She might not be able to talk to him properly, but at least she can make it easier for him to talk to her - and maybe get a little something across, herself. Throwing dignity to the winds, she shoves her head under his hand and tries to send him some feelings: her relief at finding him and her worry for Andrew. Then she peers up him anxiously, waiting for a response.

It's got to be Edgar from the way Daine is acting toward him, though it's not exactly reassuring not to receive any answer to the question. Andrew squints at the human, registering only belatedly that that was a bit of some kind of sign language. It takes even a second longer for him to realize that he understood it.

"Yes!" he exclaims. "Yes, that's me, I'm Andrew. Where's the other me, the little one? Well, littler?"

Edgar's head is spinning. He has no idea why there's another (bigger) Andrew, or why he and Daine were looking for them, or how they found them, or why Daine's in dog form - well, actually those last two answer one another, as well as providing an explanation for Almondine's unusual actions.

Before he can sign an answer to the other Andrew, Daine shoves her head under his free hand. Edgar gets a faint impression of relief and worry, and quickly fills her in.

The other Andrew's in my pocket, and he's in bad shape. He says he needs to get to the TARDIS. Do you know what that - what she is? Where she is?

Daine backs up a step with a low whine, then nods her head and looks back over her shoulder, toward the park. Then she turns her attention to Edgar's pocket. Goddess, she can smell the blood from here. There's a staircase carved into the building next to them - they can get out of the crowd (and the broad daylight) and have a look at him there before they head out. She goes ahead and climbs half the short distance, hoping the others will follow her lead.

Andrew frowns as Edgar remains uncommunicative. "Daine heard he'd -- I'd hurt my head," he says, deep concern written on his furrowed brow. He steps closer, reaching for Edgar's pocketed hand, but stops short of touching, turning his gaze back up at the human's face. Daine's whine catches his attention, and he gives a quick nod as he understands. "Come on, you can show me over here," he decides, turning to follow her.

Andrew, meanwhile, stirs in Edgar's hand at the sound of a familiar voice. "Doctor?"

Edgar follows behind the others, quickly understanding why Daine has led them there. As soon as they're mostly blocked from the street-level view, Edgar gently slides the smaller Andrew out of his pocket for the others to see.

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