Emergency Brass Injection: Tuba Strikes Back

Participants:

emily_icon.gif eve3_icon.gif

Scene Title Emergency Brass Injection: Tuba Strikes Back
Synopsis Eve hunts down an amateur paparazzi. Emily might be scarred for life.
Date October 2, 2018

Elmhurst

Elmhurst Park


Birds sing in the early afternoon air, people mill about in the park minding their business on this lightly cloudy day. Children play in a sandlot not to far off from where the parents watch from the benches. A couple of young people sit cuddled together under a tree. Two old friends play chess near a tiny pond that sits.

Blades of green grass, trees with leaves that haven't totally begun their shift from green to red. A squirrel sits on a tree branch munching a nut. It's peaceful here right now. The twinkle of a tune pulls some of the people out of their own little world, especially the children because it's the tune that all children love. The ice cream truck.

A remodeled truck rolls through the entrance of the park slowly, the tune softly emitting through the park. A shadowed figure rises the shutters on the side to reveal ice cream.

Cold one day, hot the next… The weather was sweltering and summerlike today, though the weather report promised a return to seasonable temperatures next week. Emily was skeptical. Then again, she almost always was.

Still, it wouldn't do to not take advantage of the pleasant air while it lasted. Elmhurst Park was as good a place as any to spend the afternoon. She sits on one of the park benches, a copy of the Wolves of Valhalla opened in her lap. Realizing her thoughts have wandered, she rubs her fingertips down the inside of the spine, pinky brushing the ink of the page.

She frowns at a memory, thumbing the side of her pinky with the edge of the thumbnail, and decides she's made about as much progress with the book as she's going to. She reaches into the bag by her side to pull out her other recent read, Voices by Ursula K LeGuin, intending to swap the two out.

The latter would be a far easier read to bear through. Memer's world wasn't exactly pleasant, but it wasn't real like the tale told in the other book. Though… reading through the girl finding and coming into her gift made her wonder, not for the first time recently, what form her own might take.

The sound of the approaching truck stops her from opening the second book, eyebrow arching. It was a little late in the year for this, wasn't it? Seemed like someone else was capitalizing on the warm weather.

Emily's fingers drum once on the book's cover, considering the forming line by the truck. Children, mostly, some even excitedly having charged ahead alone to claim a place in line without their parent. The sight of them causes Emily to look away, rubbing her neck to ease the tension from having looked down at the books for so long.

“Mommy can I have— what is that?” The little blonde boy asks as he peers closer into the contents of the truck, the figure in the shadows can be seen as a man though his face remains hidden. “Lou what do we have here— OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” The mother of the toddler grabs at her son as they back away hastily, “We’re vegan you piece of shit!”

A few of the other parents reach out reactively to stop their children going to see what is in the truck, one curious girl tiptoes away from her father as he talks on the phone oblivious to his daughter making off to the truck. The man inside is silent still, a flash of white glints in the shadows as he grins.

Not too far from Emily in the bushes there's a rustling.

The shouting mother is enough for Emily to roll her eyes as she stretches her shoulders out. Such melodrama. "Then don't let your kid run up to a fucking ice cream truck, lady." she mutters derisively, under her breath. She's starting to doubt her spot will continue to be quiet. Maybe she could head to a cafe or something, read in the AC…

Regardless, like someone turning to observe a trainwreck happening, she finds herself looking back toward the ice cream truck, peering at the menu and the line of kids.

FRIED SQUIRREL

Reads on the menu and another parent nearby screams at the sight of squirrel meat on skewer. “Get it while it's hot!” The man snickers as he thinks about how much he's being paid for this. “Come on! Great deals if you buy five at once!”

At the same time.. a sound emits from the bushes near Emily. A sound that's so scary, so terrible that it was locked away. Sealed and never to be unleashed upon the Safe Zone again.

The trees rustle and the glint of something can be seen shining just beyond the tree line.

Fl…Flaarppttttttttt.

The loud sound startles Emily straight out of her seat, hand awkwardly grabbing around the cuff of her crutch as she uses it to balance herself, stepping well-the-hell away from the bellowing brass note (if it could be called that) to try and take stock of what's going on behind her.

Her icy eyes are wide as she peers at the bushes, seeing the shine through the leaves. What the… "Hey, buddy, what the fuck is your problem?" she loudly demands once the initial shock has worn off. The forearm crutch in her hand is tossed into the air only so she can catch it by the pole, looking ready to start swinging at whatever comes out of the trees. There was a sick joke playing out at one end of the park already, who knew what would come out of the bushes on this end.

The man looks over at Emily and tilts his head before pressing something in his ear? “Yep. Ri- oww that's loud lady.” The sassy man says to whomever he is talking too before he nods his head and looks offended at the crowd around his truck, Emily included. “All you bitches wanna starve then fine!! I’ll eat them all myself.” Slamming the truck back from the public, the truck rocks back and forth before doesn't move.

FLAAAARRRPTTTTTT

Out from the bushes a golden, dented, tuba can be seen. FLLAAAFLAAAAFLAAAAAAPRT.

The holder of the tuba, one Eve Mas wears a demented look in her eyes as she blows again on the thing: FLAAAPRT. “Greetings Safe Zoners!” Waddling forward, the pale woman doesn't look any anyone else in the crowd, brown eyes all for Emily. “Ah! There she blowsssss.” Dressed in a soft, sheer looking black dress and barefoot the Murderimp stomps over in the direction of the girl.

Oh.

Oh shit.

The aggression turns to shock instantly, Emily's swinging arm lowering.

Maybe Eve was just passing through. Maybe this was all a giant coincidence.

She's already back at the bench, books shoved back into her bag. Even if it is a coincidence, she doesn't plan on sticking around for the rest of the performance. She hastily tries to zip the bag shut, glancing up at the commotion as the zipper catches.

She sees the look in Eve's eyes, sees how she's the target of that stare.

"Oh, fuck." Emily leaves the old cerulean bookbag half-opened as she slings it over one shoulder, threading her arms into the cuffs of her crutches and looking for a way out of the park.

She suddenly has business elsewhere. Where? Uh, anywhere not here, that's where.

Why the fuck did Eve have a tuba, anyway? Where were her shoes? Too many questions, not enough moving, Emily.

She takes off at a brisk walk opposite Eve's direction. There's no way. NO WAY she knows. she tries to tell herself. She knows perfectly well that's a distinct possibility. The woman's a seer, after all.

Or maybe she just doesn't like being yelled at about her playing, and that was why she was was making a beeline for her. A girl could hope, right?

“Fuck yea.”

Eve’s eyes glint in the light and she takes a big step towards Emily, FLAARRPTTT.

Step. Flaarrrpt. Steeeeeeep. FLARPT!!!!!!

Eve takes few breaks as she charges after the blonde woman with the crutch, taking a breath from emitting that terrible sound to whistle, “Oh hey girlie! YOO-HOO!” The dark haired wild woman cackles as the truck starts up with a rumble. “Don't be scared! How about some polka.” It ain't a question. Polka soon follows as Eve follows suit.

Gaining on Emily.

There's a shudder that runs through Eve as she nears her prize. “Or should we cha cha!” Another wild cackle follows. All around them people are running away while some of the children cry, others point and want to poke and prod Eve to which she snarls with a wink to the delighted terrified screams of the kiddos. “Oh stop it, I'm trying to tuba a paparazzi we can play later.” The father of the children gulps as Eve winks, “Dilfs in the houseeee.”

Another step towards Emily.

Attempting to evade Eve with her bag half-opened hadn't been Emily's best idea ever. She loves reading too much. When she hears the fluttering of pages and feels the wait leave her to clatter on the ground, she's only able to take two more steps before looking back, not at Eve, but at what she's lost just then.

Memer's face stares up at her from the ground. Emily grits her teeth as she stops in place.

As much as she didn't want to face Eve, she wasn't about to lose a good book over it.

"Paparazzi? Seriously?" She asks as she turns back, stationing herself over the dropped book and staring Eve down with a determination of her own.

Leaning onto her left crutch, she wriggles her right arm forward from its again, wielding it like it's a weapon. Definitely not its prescribed use, for sure. "That's enough. You stay right there or I'll swing." Her fingers adjust their grip around the pole.

She stands her ground, masking every bit of how intimidated she is as she protects her personal space and the dropped book. "What do you want, Eve? I don't dance."

“You wouldn't. Dare, la mia piccola tazza da tè,” Eve does stop though, more so to take a break from using that beautifully dented tuba. Eyes go to the book down on the ground, a pity. A good book on the ground, even if it's Eve's fault she feels badly for that but she's here for a reason.

“I know you can't dance sciocco. I'm not rude.. BUT.” As she edges closer and regards Emily with a curious stare. “Posting videos of crazy old batty women isn't the most healthy choice!”

A cackle and Eve dances backwards almost tripping over a stray football. “Touchdown!” A snort. “What kind of camera you using?” She seems really curious afterall.

A disgruntled noise like she's been struck right in the sternum comes away from Emily, teeth still grit. Her eyes close as she lowers her arm slightly, but not entirely. When she opens them again, Eve's closer and Emily's quick to lift the crutch again threateningly, but Eve's already skittering back.

"I don't have a camera. You're vastly overestimating the situation." She lets her arm fall entirely now, brow still furrowed at Eve skeptically. "I'd offer to tell you why I did it, but something tells me you don't give a shit." There's the slightest bit of concern that Eve might topple over with her tuba that's visible as she hawkeyes the path the barefooted woman takes, but she's not about to encourage that the woman take off the large obstacle.

“I don't but it is fascinating, the youth’s love of documenting everything. Spreading.” An eyebrow raises, Speak Herald. That whisper makes her back shiver. “Hmm.” Tapping her chin as she waddles backwards still all the while studying the young woman. A casual look over to the Van that Sassy is driving which has busted a U Turn so that it can roll behind the woman. “Hmmmm.” Bending forward, she seems to be studying Emily.

The girl, for her part, still keeps a skeptical eye over on the other woman, but takes the distance to mean safety, at least for a moment. Weapon-crutch dropped to the ground, the other used to steady her wobbly self as she crouches, she scoops the book from the ground and stows it back in her bag. Just before zipping it up, she opts to grab her sunglasses this time since she's not in as much of a rush as before. The aviators are opened with one hand and with a nudge of her chin against the other temple before sliding them over her face. Her squint turns into a steadier glare behind the lenses, no longer bothered by the sunlight.

"There's only so many small things to celebrate or smile at these days. Everybody wants to focus on just how hard it is instead." Her brow inclines over the top of the sunglasses rims as she all but says out loud so sue me for sharing one of those small things. She's smart enough to not invite Eve to actually do it by saying as much out loud.

Or maybe she's just distracted by the van that's rolled up behind Eve now— Concerned about the man hawking squirrels from a van spewing the ice cream tune, the one that's a little too close to the crazy woman. The two might be bird of a feather for all Emily knows, but she doesn't, and there's more harmful crazy people out there than the seer. And she doesn't want anything bad to potentially happen to her. For one, the internet would probably be devastated. More importantly, girls got to look out for each other. She stops short of saying anything yet, just sits more alert as the van rolls closer.

“Nice sunglasses my rose thorn.”

Eve takes a moment and sets the tuba down in the van as Sassy leans over from the now open can to retrieve the instrument and wink at Emily, hay girl. The seer takes a moment before she whirls back around to face the blonde, tilting her head as her eyes shift from that doe brown to mirror black. “Well would you look at that.” Taking a step closer with a faint grin on her face.

A hummingbird buzzes around Emily’s head, the pretty dark green creature flapping its wings before it settles on Emily's shoulder. The black tendrils of energy that slither over her shoulder leak inky black as the hummingbird's feathers darken to a twisted shade of midnight. The bird slowly dissolves into nothing, pieces of blackness hovering around Emily.

“A Bird,”

Eve’s tone takes a shift and her body stops as her eyes slowly fading back to their natural brown, “What have you been up to Thorn?”

It's not entirely surprising that the two are in cahoots. The wink from the squirrel-seller elicits a frown from Emily. Yeah, no. There's an annoyed sneer shot in his direction.

She sighs and comes back to her feet carefully. When Eve turns back after removing the sousaphone, eyes blackened, Emily stumbles back in surprise, away from her even as the barefooted woman steps forward.

When she speaks about the bird, there's not the confusion that one would associate with birds being offhandedly brought up — Emily just turns to look over her shoulder momentarily. She hadn't heard Lee come up on her, but the hummingbird had startled her more than once before. No bird, though. At least not on her. There's a deepened frown as she looks back to the seer, aviators hiding the uncertain look in her eyes inspired by the question.

What was with that shift in tone? Eve didn't sound as erratic anymore. She sounded serious. As curious as Emily was about the hummingbird that liked to haunt her sometimes, she was not desperate enough to talk about it with someone who'd almost just bowled her down like the seer had. She adjusts her grip on her crutches with a loose flex of her fingers before attempting to walk around the seer, presumably to leave the park.

"Sorry we don't see eye to eye about the video. It'll literally never happen again." Not even if there was a great opportunity for it. She wasn't interested in starting a round two of whatever this was.

I can see you, eye to eye.” Eve’s tone takes another sudden shift and her black eyes fade to the brown hue they usually are. Taking a step back, she looks frightened. Grabbing onto the side of the truck to pull herself in she looks over at Emily with a look as if she was looking through her. “I can see you.. eye to eye.” over and over she chants as Sassy looks over at Emily with annoyance as if she was the one disrupting a perfectly chill afternoon.

Slamming the shutter shut, the man revs up the engine and Eve can be seen swaying to and fro in the front seat of the truck.

I CAN SEE YOU!!” Leaning out of the truck, mouth open in a grin, hair flying in the wind as the truck zooms out of the park. Before it clears the entrance the woman's eyes snap open that devilish grin is aimed Emily’s way, “EYE TO EYE!!” There's a hoot of laughter and cackling as the truck rumbles away, kicking up dust and leaving black smoke in the air.

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