Participants:
Scene Title | Get Off My Lawn |
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Synopsis | Teenaged Evolved bother a woman who is innocently working. Damn Kids. (Thanks to Flora, for GMing!) |
Date | September 10, 2010 |
A construction site.
Construction is always happening in New York.
Unless it was the great storm of oh-nine Ten.
The rebuilding of one of an apartment building in chelsea was going along well in spite of the curfew, the general mood and fear of the city. Budget tight, corners being clipped where possible, which wasn't all that uncommon otherwise.
Overcast, the heat broken and no sun shining down, it's a good day to be a construction worker on a construction site. The foreman's running around, his hat a different color than others, escorting some suited individuals around who bear the same colored hat and are being shown how their project is coming along. Cranes work to lift supplies up, blue port a potties in use along the wall and a cement mixer in play, turnign adn churning it's batch of concrete to get ready to pour into the structure's bowels.
Gin is there, just coming off a break and tucking her hat back on her head as she crosses the sit toward the actual construction. She is part of that money saving mindset, being paid under the table and not being given silly things like health insurance. Just cold hard cash. It is, of course, how she likes it. She gives a smack on the back in greeting to one of the other workers there before she takes up her spot again.
Nor do they get workers compensation.
There are downsides. Like right now, the rumble she can feel under her feet, causing her to stop as this little pile of earth seems to bubble up around her feet. It's not directly near the actual construction but near where she's been taking her break. Feet sink into the ground an inch before much can be done, packed dirt turning to soft dirt.
That is a downside. This ground was solid a moment ago, wasn't it? Gin pulls a foot out, trying to get better footing to scramble out of the softer dirt before she sinks down any further. "Look out!" she calls back toward anyone else that might be around for what just may be a new sinkhole.
She moves, and the ground firms up again, but where she steps, it happens again. Earth softening, dry as a bone but crumbling where her weight is put down. A few of her co-workers - legal or not - stop and turn, look at her, but not really seeing what's wrong, no sinkhole, carry on with their work.
It's with a frustrated growl that Gin keeps trudging onward, although she has the thoughtfulness not to run toward the construction, she does head back for the breaksite, for a patch of concrete to perch up on. If she can get there. But she is determined!
Concrete, is not safe either, though when she steps foot on it, she's safe. For two minutes at least. Then it starts up again, cracks appearing in the concrete under her feet, minute at first and then widening. One of the other guys on the concrete takes off before much can be noticed. Before much of anyone can notice.
Then it stops.
When it stops… Gin lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and takes a moment to look around. …And no one saw all that. But she did, and she's not crazy damnit, so she crouches down next to those cracks under her feet. First she just looks, and then she pokes a finger around a bit, just to see.
crack
It widens at her touch.
And that makes Gin jump back a little. Her eyes narrow and she watches the crack for a long moment. Daring it to move. Go on, Punk. Her gaze lifts, though, and she looks around, trying to see if anyone's watching. Particularly someone trying to hide.
As her finger is pulled back, the crack closes.
Curiouser and curiouser. But when she looks around, there's co-workers, some working, pissing, eating, orperating machinery. Boards up that encircle the site and protect it from the people who walk around outside. Except for one part, down near the bottom, twenty feet away. There's a bunch of faces gathered down there, fingers anchored through some holes and there's laughter pouring from the faces.
Gin sees that, of course. But she just stands up, brushing off her jeans before she just casually starts to walk toward the construction again. That is, until she's near enough to a door in those boards to rush over that way and get herself through, trying to catch whoever it is before they can all scatter.
Be a little hard, feet sinking in the dirt as she goes, and by the time Gin gets to the door in the boards and the exit, they have scattered, gone, the ground beneath her feet returned to normal and she is alone except for the pedestrians that in no way match the pimply faced teenagers that were likely the cause for the ground beneath her feet.
"Fucking kids," Gin mutters as she goes to step back into the construction site. She even closes the gate. But she lingers there… waiting to see if they come back and watching what bits of the fence she can see from this spot. Just in case.
The site returns to how it was. Yells, hollers, calls out for assistance, people going on break and New York going on as the sun moves across the sky. Her tormentors are gone.