claire_icon.gif huruma_icon.gif

Scene Title Hogtied
Synopsis Huruma does as she's asked and wrangles herself an ex-cheerleader.
Date October 06, 2010

Columbia University

The sharp crack of gun fire follows her, the vibrations of Jesse's ability still seem to rattle her bones, but the small figure running through the arched halls of Columbia isn't thinking about that. Claire Bennet's head is in a different place, her thoughts are not clear.

The thick tread of her boots thumps loudly on the bricks, while her breathing and the rapid beating of her heart seems loud in her own ears. The regenerator's emotions are thick in the air, mainly she's running on the need to survive.

People move to each side of her as she barrels onward, the blue plaid shirt flaring around her, giving the slightest glimpse of the weapons underneath. A few scared looks, say that people have caught a look at the firearm at her back. Luckily, the commotion at the rally will keep the cops busy.

Feet slide on gravel as Claire tries to turn a corner too sharply. With an sharp omph, she hits the ground hard enough to dislodge the red ball cap from her head. Wild-eyed, the young woman rolls to her stomach and pushes to her feet. A quick glance around, she scrambles around that corner, and slips between the bushes and the brick wall. There she falls to sits, taking the time to catch her breath, hands frantic to get the long brunette hair out of her face.

Huruma, on the other hand, is more than content to take her time in escape. She has nothing to run from, truly, and makes less of a chore of winding about the halls after Claire. A few times it seems as if she's stopped following, only to trot a corner a moment later. Even now, as Claire slips down between wall and garden, Huruma's presence flutters into view where she had come from. There's nobody left where they are, now, everyone having either ran or gone to see what has happened. Columbia's architecture seems hallowed around her, as she meanders towards where Claire had zipped to. Her boots crunch down on grass when she steps down from the path, sidling closer with her eyes and face turned elsewhere, to another horizon of ground. She doesn't seem nervous at all, in heavy contrast to Claire. But as long as she's known Huruma, this is normal.

"…You act as if they care about who you are."

The shape of a figure has her breath catching and holding, hand slowly pulling a handgun from her back. Huruma would hear the soft click of a hammer being pulled back slowly. But when the giant speaks, Claire relaxes just a little.

"Shhh." It's hissed out fiercely from where Claire sits, she moves to settle on a knee. Blue eyes dart around looking for danger, even as she inches out a bit. When a pair of students pass, dark brows furrow a little then, head dipping down, so fingers could clutch at her head.

"Columbia… " Claire murmurs to herself, as if trying to remind herself. As sigh escapes through her nose. "Columbia…" It's said again softly to herself.

"There is nobody here tha'wants you, come out of there." Huruma doesn't look down to the girl, but talking to a bush isn't too normal either. "You look like anyone else." The crumple of fabric rustling together signals crossing arms. "Trust me, nobody else is going t'come f'you." Now, Huruma does look down, a glance given towards the brush with a raised brow and hands that drop down again. "Well, unless you shoot someone. Put that away, you'll draw attention."

Huruma as the voice of reason? Looks that way.

Brows lift a bit and Claire glances at the gun in her hand, she almost seems surprised to see it there. It's tucked away without protest. "I- I thought…" She trails off, looking all the world confused.

"Columbia… the mission." The tiny terrorist stands suddenly. "Shit, I'm suppose to back up Ling." Claire moves to step passed Hururma. "Rupert — Peter isn't going to be happy if we fail this cause I — " She trails off suddenly. What did just happened?

"Wait." It occurs to her suddenly, gaze focusing on the much taller woman. "Why are you here?" There is suspicion coloring her voice, head turning just a little bit, even as her eyes stay riveted on Huruma.

A snake would be no better at watching and waiting than Huruma. There are several things she could relay- Ling is fine- people are escaping- she's here because of the compromise- but nothing comes of the sort.

"I am doing some people a favor." When she does speak, the words are low, almost inaudible. Huruma moves no sooner than when she finishes muttering, one hand reaching out to grab onto Claire's arm to wrench it up behind her back- a common enough move, though with her other arm also grabbing for the girl's second wrist as well, and the fact that Huruma is quite, literally, twice her size, there is suddenly a problem bigger than Huruma being somewhere she wasn't supposed to be.

"What?!?" Is squeaked out as she finds herself with her hand twisted behind her back. Claire's back arches to try and relieve the pressure, going up on the tip of her toe.

"Huruma!?! What the hell are you doing?" The words snapped out as her other hand tries to whip out of her grip. "Dammit, let go!!" Claire's voice gets louder as she tries to free herself from the bigger woman. Unfortunately, for the regenerator her ability isn't all that useful, beyond being able to survive a fatal wound.

One this is for certain, Claire isn't making it easy, trying to jerk out of the woman's grip.

Huruma jerks harder when Claire does, pulling the small woman off of her toes for just a second- and then Claire will find her face plummeting for the grass and Huruma's knee aimed to plant square on her upper back.

"You will thank me. Not today, not tomorrow." Huruma's voice growls from nearby. A giant bearing down on a small frame is only good if you are a professional wrestler being pegged for a David and Goliath match. Of which this is not, per se. "Someday."

There is a short shout, before Claire hits the ground, panic gripping her as the air is knocked out of her. "No…" Is gasped out, sounding almost scared. "What… what are you doing?!? Your one of us Huruma!" Fingers of her free hand, grip at the soft ground and green grass, feeling the blade snap as she tries to pull herself out from under the tall woman.

"Your one of us!" Claire tries to reason with the giantess. "You're suppose to help with fixing all this. Fixing my mistake, we're gonna stop all this." Much like she did with Cardinal, Claire babbles on. "Killing Mayes was part of that! Fixing the city — the world.

"Let me go!" The ex-cheerleader shrieks, trying to throw off the Huruma, of course, that's about impossible.

"You are right. I am one of you. But… it is not your mistake to fix."

Huruma's knee digs deeper into Claire's back. Even if she hurts the girl, it's not like it will kill her. She grabs Claire's free hand to jam i back to meet the other one, and the sound of something plastic rattling out of Huruma's coat is another reason to be worried- but perhaps that dissipates just slightly when Claire feels a rigid, thick plastic line hooping over her knuckles and closing down over her crossed wrists. A cable-tie gun. Not a lasso, but good enough.

A pained sound escapes the younger woman, back bowing briefly, before her cheek hits the ground again. The world blurred from her view from the lush green lawn of the Columbia. "Yes it is…" Huruma can feel the hopelessness and sense of failure that seizes the girl.

"I have to help Rupert fix this." She growls out, head turning as best it can to look at the dark figure out of the corner of her eye, her colored hair draped messily across her face, making it hard to see. "He's going to fix it, he needs my help." Claire tires again to buck the woman off, "You are so dead when they find out. Let me go and I won't have to tell them." Not that she's in a position for such threats.

"I am not th'only one tha'wanted this." Huruma's words now come almost whispered in Claire's ear, as the woman on top of her leans down, palm on the meeting of arms. "Rupert is a big boy. He can handle it. And when they find out, who will really be there t'disagree? T'try an'match me? I am too useful. Peter thinks me wise. Others- Rupert- is terrified of me." There is a laugh in her ear, and the hand on her wrists moves down, restlessly, brushing over Claire's thigh before clutching at her calf. Huruma puts her knee back, all but actually sitting on her, turned to gather ankles in the same manner of tie as wrists.

"I know what is happening t'you. You are remembering Madagascar? If you are, you know that I was there wit'you- you trusted m'then. Trust m'now, mmm?"

The trapping of her legs brings on a fresh wave of panic and Claire gives a shriek, fighting her. "Let me go!" It's like she's fighting for her life, the way she thrashes now. "I won't go back! I won't! I can't do that again," she whines out softly as she tries to twist her body under the bigger woman.

"I remembered what they did… Being strapped to a table, cut apart…" A soft strangled sob escapes Claire. It's obvious that she's not talking about Cardinal and his crew. "Used… I don't want to be used as body parts, to make them immortal."

"Gregor is dead. Rasoul is dead. I killed him with these same hands." It may or may not help Claire to know this. "Th'only thing left in Madagascar is th'country that Dajan is building."

The twisting only makes Huruma actually sit down. Two-hundred pounds of mass is no bucking matter. Still, she has to wrangle Claire's legs like a flailing calf before she can tie them together and lean up and off. But this only means it gives her room to drag Claire upwards again, making sure she does not flop forward by keeping a grip under her armpit.

There is a frustrated hiss as Claire is drug to her feet, the tie around her legs making it hard to really keep her balanced. Weight shifting back and forth, only kept up with Huruma's help. Swallowing back emotions, cheek smudges with dirt, hair clinging to her face, she asks blandly, "Cardinal?"

"Among others, m'dear. Blood and blood-alike." Huruma also has the courtesy to brush Claire's hair back, smear the schmutz from her face, and take her gun. All in the name of leaning down and hoisting the girl up over her shoulder, lungs giving a puff of effort before she pushes onward. At least it's going to be an interesting ride.

"You will thank me, someday."

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