It was only a matter of time... [Active, Closed]
Who: The Brothers Tringham
When: In game, Wednesday, posted early due to mun availability
Where: New York Public Library
Warnings: Blood, angst, crabs
It had been a normal day. Russel was on his way back from the nearest hardware store, his backpack laden with tools necessary for adapting the rooftop greenhouse for his own needs. His winter projects were many and varied, all aimed toward as large a scale growing season in the spring as possible.
He was only a block away at this point. The tools were in a duffel he carried on one shoulder, and in his opposite hand he held his trusty pipe. The scratching of the crabs had been omnipresent since the monster's death, and had gotten worse since it seemed to come back. But he needed these things, and the sooner he retrieved them, the better.
Now, he still heard that scratching, scrabbling against the pavement. But it sounded different. He looked around himself, and spotted a group coming around the corner of the library toward him. The doors were about 50 feet away, including the staircase. He debated for a moment between acting natural and bolting, to see what would be most effective. As much as he'd like to, he wouldn't be able to stand and fight them, there were even more than those he and Harry had fought and he wasn't about to be a sitting duck.
Eventually, the crabs made the decision for him by picking up the pace. There were more of them than there were humans, and it seemed they were beginning to realize this. So Russel ran, soon taking the stairs three at a time with his long legs, not looking back. He was confident he'd left them sufficiently behind, and couldn't tell over the general din how close the nearest one was.
Thus, he was surprised to find that, when he jumped in through the door and moved to shut it behind him, that it was caught by a few of the creature's appendages, and a dozen of his closest friends pushing on the door made it impossible. Russel's only thought was getting that door closed, so he could get Fletcher somewhere safe and wait for them to move on somewhere else.
His heart pounding in his ears, he let fly with his pipe, trying to beat the thing away. "Get back, dammit!" he growled, as if they could understand him. His blows were fiercely aimed, but less than efficient. He got one of them just right, and it collapsed into a bloody, hissing, twitching heap at his feet. Still the door would not close. And the fallen one was joined by one of his fellows.
He had to get that door closed and bolted. He didn't want to think about what could happen if he didn't.
When: In game, Wednesday, posted early due to mun availability
Where: New York Public Library
Warnings: Blood, angst, crabs
It had been a normal day. Russel was on his way back from the nearest hardware store, his backpack laden with tools necessary for adapting the rooftop greenhouse for his own needs. His winter projects were many and varied, all aimed toward as large a scale growing season in the spring as possible.
He was only a block away at this point. The tools were in a duffel he carried on one shoulder, and in his opposite hand he held his trusty pipe. The scratching of the crabs had been omnipresent since the monster's death, and had gotten worse since it seemed to come back. But he needed these things, and the sooner he retrieved them, the better.
Now, he still heard that scratching, scrabbling against the pavement. But it sounded different. He looked around himself, and spotted a group coming around the corner of the library toward him. The doors were about 50 feet away, including the staircase. He debated for a moment between acting natural and bolting, to see what would be most effective. As much as he'd like to, he wouldn't be able to stand and fight them, there were even more than those he and Harry had fought and he wasn't about to be a sitting duck.
Eventually, the crabs made the decision for him by picking up the pace. There were more of them than there were humans, and it seemed they were beginning to realize this. So Russel ran, soon taking the stairs three at a time with his long legs, not looking back. He was confident he'd left them sufficiently behind, and couldn't tell over the general din how close the nearest one was.
Thus, he was surprised to find that, when he jumped in through the door and moved to shut it behind him, that it was caught by a few of the creature's appendages, and a dozen of his closest friends pushing on the door made it impossible. Russel's only thought was getting that door closed, so he could get Fletcher somewhere safe and wait for them to move on somewhere else.
His heart pounding in his ears, he let fly with his pipe, trying to beat the thing away. "Get back, dammit!" he growled, as if they could understand him. His blows were fiercely aimed, but less than efficient. He got one of them just right, and it collapsed into a bloody, hissing, twitching heap at his feet. Still the door would not close. And the fallen one was joined by one of his fellows.
He had to get that door closed and bolted. He didn't want to think about what could happen if he didn't.