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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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."

Yes, yes, hilarious. She flicks her ears back and ducks her head in embarrassment, but perks a little when he manages to stand up without any help - and without any pain, from the looks of things. Much better.

She leads the way back to the console room; in this shape, it's easy for her to just follow their own scent trail back the way they came. She also doesn't have to poke along for Andrew's sake, which is a pleasant change. She trots along, nose to the ground, but when she reaches one of the intersections, she pauses.

... Hold on a moment. That odd smell she'd been blaming on the healing is out here, too. She stops in her tracks, sniffing more closely at a spot where Andrew had planted his hand on the wall for balance before. Yes, it's definitely there - faint, but unmistakable now that she knows what she's looking for (or smelling for). What is it? And if it's on his hands, too...

She turns to Andrew, tail wagging in the hopes that he won't worry about suddenly having a wolf giving him a thorough once-over with her nose, then proceeds to give him a thorough once-over with her nose. She can smell it on his jacket, too, and when she stretches a little to sniff at his head, there it is. She's quite sure he didn't smell like this before, like when she was helping him practice his splitting. And it's not as if it's a new soap or anything. Very strange.

His leg is not entirely without pain, but it's nothing compared to what it was. He can and does walk normally now, his muscles protesting only as much as they would if he'd banged his shin on a door and bruised it that way. The injuries to his side have been tended to as well; fortunately there wasn't any skeletal or organ damage. Really, the worst of it right now is that his trouser leg is still hanging in tatters.

Andrew realizes what Daine is doing pretty quickly and allows her to take the lead. He could probably remember the way out, but it's been a long day and, though he wouldn't admit it out loud, her nose is probably more reliable than his memory. Unless, of course, she suddenly starts acting weird, which she absolutely does.

"What is it?" he asks when she turns to look at him. For a second he thinks she's going to try to ask him something, but then it's suddenly back to the same intense sniffing she was doing earlier. "What?" he asks, confused and just slightly worried and annoyed by the olfactory attention. "Did someone slip aniseed in my pocket? You're being weird, Daine."

She flicks her ears back, belatedly realizing that yes, she is. But then again, so is he, not that he's aware of it... and not that she can explain anything just now. Changing back her head would take more energy than she has to spare, but changing completely isn't an option down here, either. They've got to get to the console room so she can get to her robe.

She nods her head and wags her tail in a way he hopes he'll find reassuring, then turns and resumes trotting back to the console room.

And off she goes, no explanation. Andrew watches her for a moment, head tilted and a frown upon his lips, then starts after her. He keeps a few paces back, watching her to see if she's going to exhibit any other strange behaviors. Maybe she's been a wolf too long? ~~Is this like that time in the dreaming when she went all animal in the brain?~~

If it makes him feel any better, she doesn't do anything else weird en route to the console room. She does glance back occasionally to make sure he's not falling too far behind, but other than that, it's a single-minded trot through the TARDIS.

Once they reach the console room, she heads straight for the door. She pauses long enough for any People to get in touch before picking up her bathrobe in her mouth (well, needs must) and heading back inside. See, Andrew? She's going to change back, now.

... Not in front of him, though. She picks a random corridor, trots around the first corner she finds, and hurriedly shifts back to human, shrugging on the bathrobe once she's done. She's still tying the belt when she pads back into the console room.

"Sorry," she says, giving Andrew a sheepish smile. "It's just - you smell different. I thought it was because of that healing business, but it's not." She nibbles her thumbnail, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Maybe it's because you split into such little bits this time? Only I didn't notice it before, when I was helping you practice."

It does make him feel marginally better, though he'd feel better still if she'd turn enough of herself human to talk to him and explain what just happened. It's selfish of him to think so, but right now really isn't a good time for Daine to start going weird in the head. Andrew follows her to the door, asking where she's going and half expecting that she's going to turn into a bird and fly off without so much as a goodbye now that she doesn't have to carry him about. He's pleasantly surprised (and mildly embarrassed) when she picks up the robe he forgot was out there, and he holds the door for her when she comes back in.

~~Flopping down~~ Climbing into in the seat while he waits for Daine's return, Andrew forlornly fiddles with his tattered trousers. Looking up, he furrows his brow at her explanation, feeling both suddenly small and only slightly less confused than before. "Different how?" he asks. "Different like my species has changed and I'm secretly a clone without knowing it, or different like I've changed shampoos?"

"Not the second one," she says with certainty. "It's not..." she pauses, searching for the right word, "artificial, I don't think. It's just different." She lifts a shoulder in an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, I know that's not very, um... helpful."

Sobering further, she adds, "And I'm sorry I didn't say anything before. It's hard, holding two shapes at once, especially after I've been in animal shape for a while."

That's not a reassuring answer, Daine. Andrew was only joking about the possibility that he might be a duplicate of a duplicate, but now that she's failed to debunk it....

No. Really, why would anyone bother to copy him? As for whether Daine's discovery (or non-discovery, since she apparently doesn't even have any theories as to what it might mean), he's torn between worrying over it and dismissing it as Much Less Important than his other troubles. "Maybe it's just my time of the month," he jokes.

At least she didn't say it was a bad smell. To her wolf nose, it was mostly just interesting, and her human nose can't detect it at all (or it probably can't; she's not about to stick her nose in his hair again to find out).

She snorts indelicately at the joke, like a much milder version of her earlier sneeze. "I didn't realize you had one," she deadpans. Though it might help explain why he was so snippy with himself.

Before she can decide whether that last thought is worth voicing, there's a rather insistent yowl from outside. Frowning, Daine heads over to the door and tugs it open. A rather disgruntled looking cat is sitting in the leaves, his tail lashing irritably.

I found one of your little two-leggers, he informs her as Daine drops into a crouch. I tried to call you, but you were gone, and then a dog chased me off.

"Oh, dear," Daine murmurs, rubbing her forehead. Just when she was starting to contemplate a little break, too.

Andrew indulges himself with a little chuckle at his own joke, then draws in a breath and looks at Daine dubiously. "I don't," he says hurriedly, suddenly realizing it's possible (even if not probable) that she might think he's serious. "Not anymore," he mutters under his breath, hopefully too low for her to hear.

"What is it?" he calls, hopping down from the chair and coming to join her near the door. He eyes the cat, not knowing what the problem is or whether he ought to hope it has anything to do with him. "Did he find one?"

She can't help but grin at his suddenly serious expression. Yes, thank you for the clarification, Andrew; it's not as if her Ma was a midwife or anything. Daine knows how these things work (or so she thinks).

When he asks about the cat, she pulls in a breath and stands, considering how best to answer. Cats can be a bit difficult, sometimes, especially if you come across as overeager or pushy - which Andrew almost certainly would do, if she told him the truth. This particular cat seems more inclined to be cooperative than most, but that might not matter if Andrew annoys it.

"Maybe. Let me talk to him for a minute." To the cat, she adds, "Would you like to come in? It's warmer." She does have a vague recollection of a 'no pets in the TARDIS' rule, but the cat isn't a pet and the Doctor isn't here, so as far as Daine's concerned, this is a totally valid exception.

The cat eyes the console room for a moment, whiskers forward, then steps inside, tail held high and twitching just a bit with curiosity. He arches against Daine's leg as he passes her, and she follows him up onto the platform surrounding the console. Sinking to her knees so she's closer to the cat's level, she asks, What do you think?

Interesting, the cat replies, curling the tip of its tail. And warmer, as you said. He pads over and climbs into her lap, kneading the terrycloth with his paws. Your friend was out in the city, not in the park. By the place with the big cats.

Big cats? she repeats, frowning.

The big white ones, he clarifies. The whole building is big and white like the cats.

"The library," she says aloud as realization dawns. "And you came all this way to find me?" She's rather touched, despite the fact that she'd asked the People for help. It's still quite a trek for a cat, and she gives him an appreciative scritch between the ears.

The cat leans into her hand, purring. Well, I couldn't hear you. You go all quiet when you come in here.

Edited 2013-11-18 05:21 (UTC)

Well, he is an alien -- or part of one, at any rate. Maybe that explains the smell, too, though it wouldn't explain why he didn't smell that way before now. Maybe it's just something he picked up in the TARDIS.

Andrew frowns at Daine for inviting an animal inside -- the TARDIS is ~~his~~ the Doctor's home and a sapient being on her own terms, so it's a bit awkward having guests invite others inside. Then again, Andrew remembers with a pang that he's a guest here himself. He reminds himself, too, that these are exceptional circumstances, and Daine wouldn't just chuck cats in the TARDIS for funsies.

He follows and looms over them a bit, though fortunately there's only so much looming one can do at three and a half feet tall. At least he's finally tall enough that his efforts don't result in Daine looming over him even while kneeling. Is she talking to the cat? She's just kind of looking at it while it wanders about like it has some sort of right to be in here, and then while it gives her legs a little cat massage. Andrew thinks uncharitably that a dog would have come to the point by now, just as Daine finally speaks out loud.

"I'm at the library? Why'd I go there?" he wonders.

Daine arches an eyebrow at Andrew. If he can't figure out the way his own mind works, she's not sure what sort of insight she (or the cat) is supposed to provide. Before she can say as much, though, the cat paws at her hand to get her attention.

He looked to be in bad shape.

"What?" Daine says, alarmed, turning her full attention back to the cat. "Did you see what happened?"

I don't know how he was hurt, but I didn't run that far after the dog came after me. He sounds disdainful, but his tail fluffs a little at the memory. She had a boy with her. He took your little two-legger friend.

Andrew returns Daine's incredulous look. Really, what is that other Andrew up to? What an idiot, right?

Any urge to comment such, however, vanishes when the cat apparently tells her something alarming. Andrew straightens, looking quickly between Daine and the cat. "What?" he asks, not liking her tone or her question. "What did he say?"

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