bigapplesauce | bananas are hardly that slippery, but watch your step anyway

Current Music: March 17, 2013 (time is not an illusion, but also not linear)

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bananas are hardly that slippery, but watch your step anyway

It's a beautiful, cold March day in New York, and street cleaners are upon us!

[Anyone receiving Cecil's broadcast on their phone or other device will be quite convinced of its veracity, thanks to his Radio Voice now being a rift power. Listeners can either call in at the broadcast post to discuss current events / ask for survival tips / tell their loved ones good bye, or use this post to act out their totally ~~irrational~~ justified panic.

But, here are the good news! (Real good news, not life-is-pointless-but-at-least-ice-cream-exists good news.) Since Cecil will make another broadcast the next day saying that nothing unusual actually happened, your characters won't actually remember this crisis as a crisis, so you can backtag to your heart's content without it affecting later events. Go somewhat literally nuts! ~~And really make the TARDIS feel like a moron for letting Cecil do this.]~~

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When Peter's phone turns itself on in the middle of a set, his initial response is one of severe annoyance, particularly as he can't dig the bloody thing out of his pocket with one hand full of cards and the other concealing a wad of flash paper in a way that would very quickly become conspicuous if he tried to use it for anything else. There's really nothing for it but to pretend it's someone else's phone going off and finish the trick.

Somewhere around the time he's using fire to mark the punter's chosen card, though, the muffled voice in his pocket says something that grabs Peter's attention. There's a smattering of applause for the trick, but then he holds up a hand and finally gets out the phone, turning off speakerphone and lifting it to his ear to hear more clearly.

"...let me just say, street cleaning is not the end of the world. Actually, according to my sources, the end of the world will be comparatively bloodless, so that's one major difference, right there," says the silky smooth voice.

"Oh, fuck," says Peter as more of the broadcast unfolds, fear's gnawing presence making itself known in his gut. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck -- get the fuck out of here!" he snaps at a punter about to put money in his hat. Grabbing up his things, he flails his free arm at the lot of them, sending a card or two flying. "Get the fuck out of here right now!"

Having just hung up his phone after getting the low-down from Cecil on the dangers that the street cleaners present, Sam is walking-- nay, stalking down the street, just a little too fast to be casual, shoulders back and tensed, breathing hard through his nose, eyes flicking around warily. It does not, however, take any particularly impressive observation skills to notice the flailing, fleeing man who nearly barrels into him in his haste.

'Whoah!' Sam exclaims, hands going up to grip the man's shoulders. 'Dude, dude, calm down, we can't panic!' He's assuming the guy's freaking out about Street Cleaning day, because that's only logical. 'If everyone panics, the carnage is only gonna be worse, ok?'

"I don't want to be ground into paste!" exclaims Peter in a rare moment of pure honesty. He drops another few cards as he makes an emphatic gesture, the deck in the special pocket up his sleeve not having been properly secured at the abrupt end to his set.

Also, holy shit, Peter suddenly feels short for the first time in years. It's a rare experience for him to find himself looking up into another person's face, and he finds he doesn't much care for it. "I've got to get home," he says, backing away.

'You're not gonna get ground into paste.' It's the adamantly reassuring voice Sam uses when the world is, in all probability, ending, but he doesn't want to let on to the civilians.

He recognises, as he's about to take a step after the guy, that possibly Sam-- hulking, sasquatch Sam being all intense-- is not actually helping with the not panicking thing, and instead he takes half a step back, lifting his hands in an 'I'm harmless, I promise' kind of gesture.

'Freaking out isn't going to help anyone, believe me. How far away is your home? D'you know how to protect yourself against these things?'

Peter has encountered enough real big bads (...okay, one, but still) not to get his panties in a bunch over an oversize human. Still, the guy backing off does help him to calm down a hair.

"It's the other side of the park," he replies, looking sick. He could teleport there...except he totally can't teleport there. He's never made a big jump like that, and he's never gone even ten feet without ending up somewhere he didn't mean to go. There's the matter of people seeing him do it, too, though right now he'd teleport in front of the agents of ROMAC itself to get away from the impending carnage.

Sam has created a safe zone in an empty restaurant. Tables are flipped up to form a barricade, and around that, an arcing line of table salt (the empty shakers lie scattered) like a moat around the keep of a castle. One of his sleeves is rolled up to the elbow, and the exposed forearm is streaked with gore from a few deep cuts, as is the opposite hand. The blood from these cuts has apparently been used to decorate the makeshift barricade; every available surface has been daubed with arcane sigils, every warding sign Sam could think of, not knowing exactly what will repel the street cleaners.

Despite Cecil's advice to practice invisibility, Sam is hovering outside his carefully constructed barrier. He's keeping an eye out for street cleaners, or else fleeing civilians in need of shelter. Feel free to join him.

Another person incapable of obeying the order not to be a hero: this guy. Yuri's first instinct is to dash about the rebel base, spreading the word and making sure everyone's aware. Strangely, many of the riftees react with doubt when Yuri tells them. He argues as well as he can to get people to cancel plans and stay underground, but he's not sure he's getting across to everyone.

Hey, speaking of rifties who haven't heard the broadcast. Daine doesn't use her phone that often, which means the battery tends to drain and stay drained for a while before she thinks to recharge it. Cheerfully oblivious of any impending mayhem, she walks toward the exit with Sarge and Molly trotting along beside her.

Yuri's on his way to the door to try again to convince Phil not to let anyone else out of the base. Don't they understand?? They're going to die if they don't listen!

He spots Daine as she emerges from a hallway in front of him, and is extremely alarmed to see her turning along the way that will take her to the exit. "Daine!" he calls, breaking into a run. "Daine, you can't go out!"

Daine starts a little at Yuri's shout, and is thoroughly flummoxed to see him running towards her. They've settled into an awkward truce that's taken care of any real unpleasantness, but it's not as if he's seeking out her company or anything. She frowns at him. "Why not? The dogs need walking."

"Not right now," he says, shaking his head and grabbing at the nearest leash to make sure she actually stops. "It's not safe out there -- they're doing the street cleaning."

Gravest of grave looks right here.

Daine wrinkles her nose. "And not a moment too soon." The streets really are filthy; all the sand and garbage that had been mixed in with the snow has been left behind after it melted. Throwing a puzzled glance at Yuri's leash-grabbing hand, she adds, "I don't see how it matters. We're going to be in the park, mostly."

"There are streets in the park," Yuri says, sounding pained. "And we don't know for sure they won't pass that way anyway if they can't get enough people on the roads."

... What?

"... What? What does that mean?" Her frown intensifies as she begins to finally grow concerned, though not for the reasons Yuri would prefer. "Are you feeling all right?" Because he's talking nonsense, as far as she can tell. She's half tempted to put a hand to his forehead to make sure he's not running a fever.

"We need to keep everyone inside the base," insists Yuri. "They're going to grind anyone out on the streets up for power -- we're supposed to set up wards, but I don't know how. I'm just hoping it's enough to stay underground."

Grind people up for power? Daine gapes at him for a few moments, at a loss. Then Sarge whines his impatience to get going, and she gives her head a little shake.

"Look, I'm not sure what you're going on about, but I am sure that the dogs need to go out." She takes a deliberate step away from Yuri, toward the exit, though she does look a bit sorry as she does so. "Maybe you should go tell someone in the medical bay that you're not feeling well." And maybe he should also let go of Molly's leash. She gives his hand a pointed look, eyebrows raised.

"No!"

If anything, Yuri tightens his grip on the lead, though he takes a step with her before it occurs to him to dig his heels in -- he's bigger, after all. "You're not listening -- why is no one down here listening?! You're going to die if you go up there, Daine, why can't you just trust me?!"

He's shouting now, the shift from urgent but relatively calm speech to near hysteria quite sudden.

Daine stiffens at the sudden shouting, eyes wide. Sarge tucks in his tail and darts around to hide behind her, throwing Yuri an astonished look over his shoulder. Molly tries to follow suit, but Yuri's grip on the lead has given her far less room to work with, and she lets out a little yelp of distress when she realizes she's caught between Yuri and Daine. That spurs Daine to action - it's one thing for him to upset her, and quite another for him to upset her dogs. Pressing her lips together in a thin line, she swiftly reaches down to unclip Molly's leash, freeing the dog and leaving Yuri sole proprietor of an empty lead. Molly, at least, heels beautifully on her own, and she'd rather deal with a peeved cop outside than Yuri in his current state.

"No one is listening to you," she says sharply as she and the dogs resume their retreat, "because you sound mad. Street cleaners just clean the streets; that's all they do, and they don't do it often enough. No one is getting ground up for anything." Holding up a hand to forestall any more raving, she adds, "And don't you dare scare my dogs like that again!"

Edited 2013-11-19 16:38 (UTC)

Yuri's sorry about the way the dogs shy away -- no, flee from him, but he doesn't let go, nor does he back down. "Daine --!" he protests, starting like he's going to make another grab but too slow to do anything but get left with a detached lead in his hand.

"Daine, please, you have to listen to me," he begs her, voice cracking as it dies back down to a more reasonable volume. It's not just Daine; the thought of the dogs, who only think they're scared now, facing the ends of their lives just because she wouldn't listen to him and stay inside...Yuri can imagine only too well all three of them being reduced to paste. "I've lived here, I know how this works!"

Daine hesitates, in part because of how desperate he sounds, and, maybe a little, because of that last bit. It's true that he's been here longer than she has - and that he's more familiar with the way the city works. But it seems impossible that this horrible 'street cleaning' thing could be real; surely someone would have mentioned it before now.

"So you're saying this is normal, then? Street cleaners roll through the city and grind people up?" She plants her hands on her hips and raises a challenging eyebrow at him. "Why would anyone live here if that was true?"

Funny how it's never come up, huh? It must be such an ordinary part of life that no one thought to mention it. Ever.

Yuri opens and closes his mouth. Why do people live here? It's kind of a horrible thing to put up with, knowing that the lights in your apartment might be running off energy produced from the bodies of your friends and family. "It's just how it is," he says lamely.

Uh huh. "And despite the fact that I've been here for months, you never thought to mention it until just now?" She could believe such a lapse about more minor things - Goddess knows it's happened before - but not this supposed 'street cleaning.'

"I didn't know it was going to be today!" protests Yuri. "They didn't put up any notices about it."

"You still knew that people were going to be ground up by horrible machines and turned into fuel," she points out reasonably. Canting her head, she asks, "How do you know it's happening at all?" Because she hasn't seen any notices, either, and he must have gotten the idea from somewhere. She still suspects he's running a fever or something, but if he watched a creepy movie or had a nightmare, maybe that's what has him raving about street cleaners, specifically.

He did, didn't he? Kind of weird that he forgot to bring it up, but that seems a lot less important now than the fact that she is going to die if she goes up there. At least she's stopped to talk to him; the longer he can distract her, the better chance he hopes she has.

"There was a broadcast on the phones," he replies, as if that's perfectly normal and obvious. "Didn't you get it?"

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