(no subject)
WHO: Rimmer, Penny...and a fun new friend!
WHERE: Northside Homeless Shelter.
WHEN: Evening of 6/8/09.
WARNINGS: Uh....
SUMMARY: That would be spoiling it.
FORMAT: Oh god the paragraphs..
"Northside Homeless Shelter. And hurry!"
The cabdriver nodded once, and slid the taxi out into the surrounding traffic. The anxiety of the man in the back seat filled the cab from windshield to window, from ceiling to carpet. It wasn't just the fact that he kept looking at his watch, or adjusting his cap, or jiggling his right leg in an arrhythmic tattoo, but all of the above and more.
After reading and watching and listening to all the posts on the Comm in the last hour, Rimmer was convinced that this was the work of one thing, and one thing only. The fact that it was impossible didn't deter him. He had a singular, obsessive goal, now. To get to Penny before one of those things got to her.
"No, no! Go straight ahead! It's much faster than going along side the park!"
Annoyance, light and frothy like coffee milk fluttered through the anxiety, and then trickled away when the cabdriver shrugged and changed lanes. There was even a tiny little tendril of fear wriggling through there, and that was delicious.
Wait...
Ten blocks, and the man's impatience burbled to surface, like the sludge you'd find at the bottom of a chocolate fountain after all the prom dates have gone.
"Can't you do anything about this traffic?!"
Anger. Ooh. So much Anger. This was a feast of anger! There was seemingly no end to it, the fountainhead that never ran dry. How could it be so lucky to find such a...
Wait.
The goal was finally achieved. The shelter was reached. And it waited for its moment...
As Rimmer jumped out of the cab, he was surprised to notice that the cab driver was getting out with him. That was unusual, but maybe he needed to stretch his legs. Rimmer pulled a very small wad of bills out of his trouser pocket, enough to cover fare and the smallest of small tips, and began to hand it to the driver...when there was a knife pressed up against his throat. He gulped, and stumbled back against the cab.
"Gimme your wallet, right now!" screamed the former driver, and Rimmer realized with dismay that he'd been duped. This wasn't a legit taxi. This was some punk who'd stolen a cab and was out to mug his 'passengers.' He scrunched his eyes closed, and was trembling violently.
Cowardice. It was that which motivated him to immediately reach for his wallet. It didn't matter that he was invulnerable. That his neck would only split if somebody took a diamond-tipped chainsaw to him, and even then, that was iffy. He was such a damn coward that he loathed himself for it.
Cowardice.
Self-Loathing.
Even greater and more potent and more pungent and more putrid and more powerful than even the anger. The anger came from it, in fact. It was just a by-product.
He just about had the wallet out of his trousers when he felt the prick of the knife slither away from his neck, and then a clatter of metal meeting sidewalk. A scream. And a strange, shifting sensation against his back. Cracking open one eye, Rimmer cautiously turned around, just in time to watch the cab that he'd driven over in change.
Polymorph.
It didn't even have to take on a shape! The City took care of that for it. Oh, yes, this was a rich hunting ground.
It was eight and a half feet of hideous genetic waste, and just as ugly and terrifying as Rimmer remembered it. And he hated himself for being so damn scared of the thing!
When the tentacle-sucker hit his forehead, he almost welcomed it, because he knew what was going to happen next.
At least, he hoped he did...
Penny...!
WHERE: Northside Homeless Shelter.
WHEN: Evening of 6/8/09.
WARNINGS: Uh....
SUMMARY: That would be spoiling it.
FORMAT: Oh god the paragraphs..
"Northside Homeless Shelter. And hurry!"
The cabdriver nodded once, and slid the taxi out into the surrounding traffic. The anxiety of the man in the back seat filled the cab from windshield to window, from ceiling to carpet. It wasn't just the fact that he kept looking at his watch, or adjusting his cap, or jiggling his right leg in an arrhythmic tattoo, but all of the above and more.
After reading and watching and listening to all the posts on the Comm in the last hour, Rimmer was convinced that this was the work of one thing, and one thing only. The fact that it was impossible didn't deter him. He had a singular, obsessive goal, now. To get to Penny before one of those things got to her.
"No, no! Go straight ahead! It's much faster than going along side the park!"
Annoyance, light and frothy like coffee milk fluttered through the anxiety, and then trickled away when the cabdriver shrugged and changed lanes. There was even a tiny little tendril of fear wriggling through there, and that was delicious.
Wait...
Ten blocks, and the man's impatience burbled to surface, like the sludge you'd find at the bottom of a chocolate fountain after all the prom dates have gone.
"Can't you do anything about this traffic?!"
Anger. Ooh. So much Anger. This was a feast of anger! There was seemingly no end to it, the fountainhead that never ran dry. How could it be so lucky to find such a...
Wait.
The goal was finally achieved. The shelter was reached. And it waited for its moment...
As Rimmer jumped out of the cab, he was surprised to notice that the cab driver was getting out with him. That was unusual, but maybe he needed to stretch his legs. Rimmer pulled a very small wad of bills out of his trouser pocket, enough to cover fare and the smallest of small tips, and began to hand it to the driver...when there was a knife pressed up against his throat. He gulped, and stumbled back against the cab.
"Gimme your wallet, right now!" screamed the former driver, and Rimmer realized with dismay that he'd been duped. This wasn't a legit taxi. This was some punk who'd stolen a cab and was out to mug his 'passengers.' He scrunched his eyes closed, and was trembling violently.
Cowardice. It was that which motivated him to immediately reach for his wallet. It didn't matter that he was invulnerable. That his neck would only split if somebody took a diamond-tipped chainsaw to him, and even then, that was iffy. He was such a damn coward that he loathed himself for it.
Cowardice.
Self-Loathing.
Even greater and more potent and more pungent and more putrid and more powerful than even the anger. The anger came from it, in fact. It was just a by-product.
He just about had the wallet out of his trousers when he felt the prick of the knife slither away from his neck, and then a clatter of metal meeting sidewalk. A scream. And a strange, shifting sensation against his back. Cracking open one eye, Rimmer cautiously turned around, just in time to watch the cab that he'd driven over in change.
Polymorph.
It didn't even have to take on a shape! The City took care of that for it. Oh, yes, this was a rich hunting ground.
It was eight and a half feet of hideous genetic waste, and just as ugly and terrifying as Rimmer remembered it. And he hated himself for being so damn scared of the thing!
When the tentacle-sucker hit his forehead, he almost welcomed it, because he knew what was going to happen next.
At least, he hoped he did...
Penny...!