Participants:
| Scene Title | Brain Stew |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | After curfew is a difficult time for people with no where to go and few places to hide. |
| Date | January 14, 2011 |
Dorchester Towers — The Roof
I'm having trouble trying to sleep
I'm counting sheep but running out
The city is quiet tonight, curfew having put a damper on the night life and not too many people driving leaves the night air free of noise. There are never any stars, the city's too bright against the atmosphere, resulting in a sky that looks muddy brown rather than black or blue. At least it's not raining.
Atop the highest tower of the Dorchester building, Monica sits against one of the large vents, hidden from view of passing helicopters. It's cold, too cold for someone used to the heat and humidity of the South, which is why her heavy eyelids haven't been able to close. Whenever her head does nod, it jerks back up to do another scope of her surroundings. No one's there, no one has been since long before she curled up.
Something that sounds oddly like the scream of a dying animal echoes between the buildings. Monica has no reason to fear, she's too high up for anything to reach her.
It's a problem she runs into sometimes, even back in New Orleans where there was no curfew and no martial law, there was always something to hide from. Even she gets stuck sometimes. Waiting it out is an old habit, and playing it safe far more appealing these days with her being a wanted person and all. Appealing, but dull.
And it isn't fear that lifts her head at that sound, it's curiosity. There's all sorts of oddities in New York City, but when something sounds like it might be dangerous, she can't help herself from checking it out. Which is why she ends up crawling out from her cover, taking care not to attract the building's security as she makes her way over to the edge closest to the sound. To peek over, of course, and see what's going on.
As time ticks by
And still I try
The first quake shakes the building and causes a few of the car alarms parked around it to go off. The second jolts the young woman enough to set her off balance and fall behind the barrier, just as a large shadow passes by. Again the angry scream erupts, much closer this time. Waves of sound emit shocks of their own, and a wind that forces Monica's eyes closed as all the hair on her head whips behind her.
Before she has time to get up and see what it is, the shadow passes and with a few more tremors, it's gone.
All around her lights are coming on and a rattle at the door indicates that security is on its way to finding her. Loitering. Past curfew. At a building she might not be welcome in. There aren't many options from this place, likely just the way she came up, scaling the building itself.
Monica hits the roof and hunkers down in a crouch, her hands splayed against the ground to steady her through the shaking and wind that follows. Normally, a creepy shadow wouldn't worry her, given who her boss is, but this time? There's a shiver of fear through her, even after it passes.
But then, there's something less enigmatic to worry about. It's without hesitation that she leaps off the side of the building, to make her climb down. She might be tempted to use the flips and rolls of her flashier parkour skills, but in the interest of being as quiet as possible, she hunts for handholds and ledges on the way down. And when she hits the ground, she ducks behind the first bit of cover she finds.
No rest for crosstops in my mind
That roar of anger is the only warning given before a large chunk of building lands directly in front of Monica. Its jagged edge slices into the pavement, its weight half burying it in the ground, providing more than adequate cover. Another tremor of the ground, knocks Monica from her feet and lands her eyes up to the sky where she spies what could possibly be the most frightening thing known to mankind.
A gigantic ginger.
A child that would be maybe six or seven years old, a little girl with red hair so curly that it looks like springs coiling from her scalp. Except she's taller than all of the buildings around her… and throwing a massive temper tantrum. Well that would explain the noise.
When Monica looks up and sees the towering youngster, her eyes widen a moment and she stares. And then she shakes her head and looks again. Nope, still there. What in the world is going on up in here?
Monica darts out from hiding then, weaving her way through the buildings to find a nice tall one. This time, it is the flips and leaps and rebounds that bring her up to the top, and she pauses just a moment before she starts waving her arms to get the kid's attention. "HEY!" She's not sounding threatening or angry, just trying to get her attention. "Hey, kiddo!" Giant, giant kiddo.
On my own… here we go
At first, the little girl doesn't even hear her, she simply continues her temper tantrum, going as far as to grab the side of the building that Monica is on and screaming as she tries to pull it over. That's when her teary little eyes spy the blurry shape flailing to get her attention. There's a slight tilt to the girl's head as she leans down to get a closer look at the young woman. Then a shadow passes over Monica once again.
The hand that comes down to pluck her up in its grip is massive. Like Gulliver to a Lilliputian. Monica is closed within the giant palm and the jostling can only be construed as running. Screams from below don't indicate anything good for what's happening to her fellow New Yorker.
"CHAY-ZAAAAAH!!"
Monica starts her climb out of those little fingers almost as soon as she's picked up. But she's not trying to get away, she's trying to climb up to the girl's shoulder. Which, given the running, is a somewhat treacherous goal.
She didn't think abilities worked this way, making a person shoot up like a hundred year old tree. But then, there was that guy made of ice, so who knows if there are rules.
The growing pains must have been awful.
"Hey! Sweetheart!" Monica tries to be gentle, too, in her climb, not to pinch or poke too hard. "Hey, can we slow down a minute?!"
My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed
Dried up and bulging out my skull
"HHNNNGGGG!!" Monica, being smaller, moves at a much faster pace than the giant child. Like a little cockroach scurrying around to get out of the light, only this time it's a muscle mimic trying to get out of reach of some kind of biomanipulator. Her large hand slaps at her own arm, following the muscle mimic all the way up to her shoulder. One thing Monica did manage to do, is stop the child from running any further.
There's another angry shriek from the child that's stopped with another sound. From somewhere else.
Arr!! Rrrar!!
A bark.
"CHAY-ZAH!!!"
The momentary pause is over as the redhead begins running toward the sound of the barking. "CHAYZAH!!" her booming voice is louder than the helicopters fwipping around her head as bothersome as flies. "CHAY-ZAH!!" The name is called out in answer to every bark. Finally, the girl's little legs carry the pair around a corner in view of a half-wolf as enormous as she is. Apparently this child's powers extend beyond herself.
"Whoa, whoa! Hey! Is that really necessary!?" Monica huffs a bit when the slaps end, and she moves to perch up on the girl's giant shoulder. The much ignored Jiminy Cricket of this twisted tale.
When they're brought face to face with the… ah… pet, Monica looks up at the girl. "Honey, I think maybe it's time to bring you and your dog back down to regular size. Don't you think? The helicopters will bother you less and you'll actually be able to have room to play with your Chayzah."
My mouth is dry
My face is numb
Jiminy Cricket had been forgotten, until she spoke up again. Scrambling to get a grip on Monica, the girl's hand clamps down over the woman just before her fingers curl and capture her. Whatever she said? It's been ignored in favor of whatever fun she has planned for the time being. With the dog.
"CHAY-ZAH LOOK!"
The booming voice comes along with the fingers unfurling underneath the dog's muzzle. Hot breath huffs out over the woman before a tongue lops out and pulls up the child's hand, leaving Monica a wet mess. "Eattit!!" The little girl commands, shoving the young woman up to the dog's nose again. Obediently, the dog opens its massive jaw and nibbles a little closer to the tiny body.
Oh that's not good. Monica scrambles back from the teeth, rolling up to her feet somewhere around the heel of the girl's palm. "Sorry, puppy. No Cajun-style for dinner tonight," she says, even though the quip comes without so much as s grin today.
With a little running start, Monica charges toward the dog only to leap up into a sort of summersault, aiming to land on the top of that unsettlingly large muzzle.
fucked up and spun out in my room
There's a shriek from the child as she tries to catch Monica, going as far as to grapple at the large dog's nose with her comparatively smaller hands. The dog doesn't seem to mind the manhandling, in fact, it's a gentler variety of canine despite its massive appearance. "STOP BUG!!" The little girl's booming voice causes another wave of wind to hit Monica and cause her to stagger off balance. Luckily the dog has move than enough fur to latch onto.
"STOP BUG!!"
The yelling continues but this time the little girl is swatting at the helicopters hovering around her head. Monica is forgotten for the meantime, left to her own devices aside from the dog whose jade eyes are focused on her. The whine of frozen rotors as one of them careens through the air is preempted by the crash and orange explosion of the machine as it hits the side of an adjacent building.
And latch she does, onto the side of the dog's face with an apologetic look up at the one eye she can see as she uses its fur to climb back up again. Whew.
When the little girl's attention shifts away, Monica watches with a flinch as things go flying and… exploding. But she does notice the dog's gaze falling on her there on his nose. "Okay… no eating me, alright? Do you have a home? Chayzah, let's go home. We can lead your little owner there back to a familiar place, maybe. And we'll hope there's a parent there or something." All said in that half-excited voice people tend to use to get a dog excited about an idea. Walkies, girl?
On my own… here we go
The dog follows the miniature woman's command and begins loping toward a tall white building. The very same one that Monica tries to fall asleep at, a scream of protest follows the pair as they run. "CHAY-ZAH STOP!!" The little girl's command isn't heeded due to the closer proximity of the urging to go home.
The thundering booms of their run along with the little girl's grabbing at various buildings cause widespread panic down below. Buildings crumble under her touch as though they were made of Lego, concrete and sediment rain down on the poor townspeople furthering the fear and panic of whatever it is that caused the child to grow to such immense proportions. Likely her SLC gene.
A high pitched whistle precipitates a thundering kaboom as a missile launched from one of the helicopters misses the girl. The building it hits collapses in on itself and the massive structure crumples and falls directly in her path. "CHAY-ZAH!!"
"Good dog," Monica says with a pat to the side of the dog's muzzle. She encourages the dog along, lifting an eyebrow as that building comes back into view. Huh. "Okay, Chayzah…" she says with a glance over the dog's head toward the girl, "I hope this growth thing is temporary, for both our sakes." But she's waiting to see how the girl reacts to being guided back home again, crouched there on a dog's nose. Her life, is is strange.
My mind is set on overdrive
The clock is laughing in my face
«Tango Golf Forty-Niner, I have one of the hostiles locked. It has a civilian hostage, orders?»
«Fire!»
Without hesitation another two rockets are launched, spiralling toward Monica and the giant dog. Spying the two specks of light, the dog raises its nose and lets off a booming bark. The sound sets off the devices early and the explosions come a little too close, heat washes over Monica, the smell of burning hair fills her nostrils.
"CHAY-ZAH!!"
The call from the little girl has the half-wolf's head twisting sharply toward the sound, giving the young woman a view of the child fighting against a barrage of helicopters and gunfire. Tears in the form of rivers wash down her face as she struggles to make her way toward the other two. "CHAY-ZAH!! HELP!!"
Monica ducks and covers her head at the explosion, the heat and the smell pulling out a yucky face. But when she looks over at the girl, her brow furrows and a frown comes to her face. Someday, her soft heart is going to be the death of her.
Climbing up onto the dog's head, she gives her another pat and points toward the girl. "Let's go, Chayzah! Um. Fetch?" She never did have any pets growing up.
A crooked spine
My sense's dulled
A low growl rumbles through the body of the humongous dog and its hackles rise at the little girl's pain. It black lips curl back as the half-wolf bares its teeth, growling even louder before it crouches down and then springs forward in a large jolt to Monica. Three bounds before they reach the little girl and those teeth latch onto her white dress, tugging at her to pull her backwards.
Two arms encircle the mammoth dog and the little girl crawls up on its back, laying flat against it as the beast crouches again and springs forward. This time, she's not going home, she's running to safety. The little whimpers and cries of the child on the dog's back fill Monica's ears, louder than the cries of the missiles following them.
Safety works, too! Monica tries to keep an eye on the helicopters, at least at first. But she ends up kneeling there by an ear, hanging on for dear life as the dog runs. Hell, she'll be calling the dog to run faster, particularly if any of those missiles get fired again. For now, she doesn't try to get the girl's attention, letting her get comfort from her dog.
Passed the point of delerium
Weaving through the buildings, the massive dog is unable to shake the majority of the helicopters. They're still firing bullets and missiles at every opportunity. Most of them miss the trio but the ones that do manage to make contact hit the little girl, causing shrill screams that only further agitate the canine.
Finally, the dog seems to come to its own conclusion as to what to do and wheels around to face their foes. Two gigantic paws come up and crash into one of their pursuers, causing the rest to fall back and hover at a safe distance. The little girl falls from her pet's back and lands on her bottom, the expression on her face confused and frightened. "CHAY-ZAH…" she whimpers, her voice only encouraging the dog to bark and growl at the attack choppers that still threaten.
While it's true the girl has been causing mass destruction about the city, it's equally true that firing missiles at a kid is several levels of wrong. At least in Monica's book it is. When the dog turns to attack, she gets up, too, stand to try to wave the helicopters off.
But eventually, she turns to the girl, trying to give her a gentle shake. "Honey? Honey, I know you're hurting, but it's time to run. You've got to run as fast as you can, okay? Chayzah will run, too, but she's gonna get hurt like this. Time to be brave, okay?"
On my own… here we go
At the touch from the tiny woman, the little girl's head swivels around and she looks down at her. Monica is perfect miniature size and one massive hand reaches out to wrap around her in a bid for comfort from the living doll. Rubbing the mini woman against her face, the little girl only manages to wipe up her own tears using the muscle mimic's clothing.
"CHAY-ZAH…" her voice, though meaning to be soft, still booms loudly in Monica's ears. "I WANNA GO HOME…"
The dog turns its head to look over its shoulder and a low whine of agreement escapes from its throat. Edging closer to the tiny woman and the huge child, the dog continues its threatening bark at the helicopters. So far, they're holding their position, perhaps waiting for something else.
But Monica tries her best to give some comfort, her hand petting the huge face gently. "Poor thing. Sweetheart, I want you to be able to go home, too. But I think we have to… play a little hide and seek from these guys first. And then we'll find you a way back home. Can you… get smaller? Like me?"
My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed
Dried up and bulging out my skull
Not a sound.
Not even a whisper.
Nothing to warn Monica or the pilots inside the helicopters of what comes next. Another shadow passes, this time even larger than both the dog and the girl. The former cowers, laying down with its paws over its eyes. The girl also shields herself and in turn the tiny woman in her hand. "I DIDN'T MEAN IT!! I WASN'T TRYING TO BE BAD!! I JUST WANTED TO PLAY!!"
The rush of gravity as it flows down to Monica's feet and out to somewhere unknown, it's quite possibly what it feels like to be in an anti-gravity machine. When the young woman opens her eyes again, she's even higher off the ground, the dog's back far below her. The height is dizzying, even the little girl is dwarfed by what seems to be carrying her.
In only a few steps, the helicopters are gone. The city is gone. Everything to mark that they were ever in the city… gone.
"YOU DON'T PLAY WITH PEOPLE LIKE THIS… YOU REMEMBER WHAT THE BOGEYMAN SAID?"
Another booming voice, this time a more mature one.
A healthy invincibility complex has always shielded Monica from being too afraid of dying. But there are some things even a complex can't write off. And this is one of them. She clings to the little girl, squeezing her eyes closed and hoping, hoping, hoping she won't get dropped from all the way up here.
When 'up here' ends up having a voice, that's when Monica opens her eyes again, the voice itself and what it says leaving her confused. "What the heck is going on around here?" She asks on a breath and a whisper.
My mouth is dry
My face is numb
The smooth movement stops and Monica can see the dog taking a few steps before pausing to turn to meet her dark eyes. Another rush of air as the child (and Monica) are set down, the motion continues as the child leans to set her passenger safely on the ground. It's then that she can see a set of giant bare feet that stretch up into smooth white legs, whoever or whatever the even bigger things is, it's clothed similarly to the little girl.
"I'M SORRY…" It's not the voice of the child, but the more mature one. Its face hidden by the clouds overhead. "THIS WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN." There's a small pause before the feet pivot and the voice continues. "CHEZA, GO HOME NOW, GOOD GIRL."
With that command, the dog's form ripples and fades from view.
When she's set down on actual, solid ground, Monica lets out a sigh of relief and even crouches down closer to it for a few moments. It's as close to kissing the ground as she's gonna get but it's close enough! But, she stands again as the dog disappears a frown coming to her face, and she shades her eyes to look up toward the voice. "It's okay," she reassures, politeness coming even before her own puzzlement. "What's going on here?" She is so confused.
fucked up and spun out in my room
There's a pause as the massive figure bends and crouches to gaze at the miniature woman on the ground. Long spirals of crimson colored hair shield most of its face from view, save one huge blue eye that seems to peer right into the muscle mimic. For a long moment, it just stares at her until the outer corner squints as though the woman is smiling.
"YOU'RE DREAMING, MONICA… TIME TO WAKE UP…"
Time to wake up….
"I'm… what?" It doesn't seem to process, that tidbit of information. But even as Monica is giving the voice an odd look, she wakes up back on the roof with a start. "Whu!" She has to blink a few times before she can look around at the… wow, complete lack of damage to the buildings around.
Pulling herself up to her feet, she starts to make her way toward the building's edge to move on… but the whirr of a helicopter nearby makes her step back again, slipping under cover for a little while longer. And to secretly wait for a giant shadow. You never know.
On my own… here we go