[Open] Put a Tic Tac in your mouth (and get a bang out of life)
Who: OPEN.
When: The morning of the 23rd until the 31st (back-tagging is also acceptable if your character has already made this mistake).
Where: From various pharmacies to your pockets.
Summary: The popularity of Xalyein is starting to pick up on the streets. Pickles, being the guy that D.A.R.E. and Wally Bear warned kids about, decides to play a ( Read more... )
When: The morning of the 23rd until the 31st (back-tagging is also acceptable if your character has already made this mistake).
Where: From various pharmacies to your pockets.
Summary: The popularity of Xalyein is starting to pick up on the streets. Pickles, being the guy that D.A.R.E. and Wally Bear warned kids about, decides to play a ( Read more... )
Yet as Simon made his way back towards the Tower Apartments that day after an early supper...things started happening that would go on to change his mind. Each step he took felt lighter, and he stopped moving forward...or the street corner was getting further away. In fact, everything seemed to be getting further away, so Simon did the only reasonable thing he could think of and stopped in the middle of the side-walk, swaying slightly, and let out a faint almost nervous laugh.
"...this doesn't feel right," he mumbled.
(OOC: So, basic scenario, Simon's in the middle of section four when the drugs he had taken after his meal started kicking in, he's clever enough to recognize something's up but as it gets going that probably won't make much of a difference. There's a good hour left before the first siren of the evening, just to keep that in mind.)
Reply
If it came down to it he'd pick up a bounty. It wouldn't be the first in his life.
The walk back to the apartments was mostly taken up with practical matters like that. He paid little attention to the people around him; most who had a problem with his appearance or a need for other people's money were content to...carefully reconsider their choices. It was only on one particular city block that anything stood out. Garr had seen men out of their minds on every substance imaginable and walked past more drunks in the street in all his years than he could ever hope to remember, but those men generally did not look confused about their current state. At least not until they were a good deal further gone than this one.
Monsters could do things to the mind, he knew that firsthand. No matter how unlikely before sundown, here, the thought made old instincts twitch. Unfortunately Garr had no particular instincts when it came to not unnerving people so he proceeded to announce his presence with nothing particularly comforting: a deep, gruff "Are you lost?"
Reply
"Captain? No, too orange." Simon blinked and squinted and then he found Garr's eye. "Why orange, that can't be-- Oh. Oh it's you.
"...the cortex really doesn't do you justice."
Simon was still swaying slightly, but at least he didn't look completely terrified. More overly fascinated...probably more so than was polite, especially when he took half a step forward and reached out to poke at the nearest part of the giant dragon-man, which was turning out to be his knee. Was it scaly, Simon seemed to be wondering? Or maybe he thought that ridiculously bright color would come off like wet paint under his fingers.
Reply
Not that Garr was actually in the habit of killing the harmlessly mad, but most people wouldn't guess that.
His skin was not scaled, instead tough as old scarred leather and noticeably warm, and his eyes were not amused. "Stop that."
A pause. Wait, what? "...do I know you?"
Reply
Whatever he was seeing must have been very pretty.
At the question the doctor looked up and blinked owlishly up at Garr's massive figure, swaying gently...and then breaking into a wide, almost nostalgic smile.
"Of course! You're from MedAcad," he began, making a wide gesture like he was going to give Garr a hug but wasn't quite steady enough on his feet to manage it. "But you didn't talk last time. Nor had wings. But you're big enough and about the right color...
"Ahh...I hope you're not mad."
Reply
"...no. I forgive you." For whatever. He doubted the man even remembered poking at him a moment previous. If this were the work of a monster, it was a nasty one. "Do you remember how you got here?"
Reply
Simon turned his attention to their surroundings once more and seemed confused by them to say the least. Like he wasn't sure what he was looking at. The tall city buildings had been pushed so far away that they seemed much smaller, and the asphalt streets had turned to a grassy green. A lot like MedAcad's old campus, in fact.
"...how did I get here?" he mumbled. He shouldn't be, by all rights. Osiris was very much off-limits to him and hadn't he been on some other planet just moments ago? When he looked back to Garr the massive beast of a man was more the statue of his memory, though still more muscular than he used to be.
"Well, might as well..."
And then Simon reached for 'the statue' again, fully intent on climbing up to get a better vantage point. And maybe sing a little, just for old time's sake.
Reply
He could think about it, though, as his hand came up like a massive bear's paw and caught Simon palm-first in the chest, midclimb. Though Garr could put a man's head through a brick wall at twenty paces there was not even enough force to bruise, only to stop this nonsense, only to lift until Simon's toes were the only part of him touching the ground.
"Now's not the time," he said, very calmly and very carefully, hoping against hope that he'd finally gotten the man's wavering attention. "The...feds...might come back. And that would be bad."
Not that he knew what feds were, but he was willing to roll with a delusion if it worked.
Reply
"But I..." Now he looked back at Garr, large eyes seeming to grow wider at the mention of the dreaded feds. He brought his hands up to cling to Garr's arm, not afraid of falling, but as if to beg the giant talking statue for protection.
"But if they find me they'll find River," he said plaintively, all but begging the giant talking statue who kept having wings for some reason to help him with that frightened look alone. "I have to find a place to hide. Or...or to run."
Reply
It would do.
"They might indeed, and we can't have that," he said, voice solemn as he slowly lowered his arm. Simon could have his feet flat on the ground so long as he behaved himself, but Garr was not inclined to let him go just yet.
"You shouldn't run now. I don't think you're well. Is there a hiding place you've been using lately?"
Reply
"But there is a place...it isn't here." He was scanning the space above them, staring long and hard as if waiting for the stars to come out...or see a familiar silhouette break through the atmosphere. Yet it wasn't coming for him, not this time, and for a moment Simon fought through the haze of the drug to remember where he really was.
"The building," he murmured, brow furrowing in concentration. "The towers...
"I'm not well, am I."
Reply
...it isn't here.
The crazy man clutching his arm suddenly looked up with eyes too briefly clear and something very like a superstitious chill ran up Garr's spine. He did not speak, nor follow the stranger's searching gaze to the sky, but if his iron composure faltered in the least there was no one present coherent enough to notice.
Moments passed. The man spoke again, and the spell was broken.
"...you aren't. Don't worry about that. If you have a place to hide in the towers, I will take you back there."
Reply
It wasn't real. The doctor knew that now. But it didn't change a thing and it was almost scary knowing that this giant statue (Hippocrates, Simon remembered now) wasn't really there at all for all he knew.
Lucky thing that it was still all so pretty, and he felt so relaxed and safe, that it wasn't really scary at all.
"Good," he said, finding a grin on his face as he slipped back into the embrace of the drug. "Because I'm not really sure what we're talking about anymore. But I still trust you...I remember what you said. First: do no harm."
Reply
Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it didn't matter at all.
"That's right," he said quietly, though for Garr speaking quietly still meant that the words came out in a rumble.
The man didn't seem steady enough that Garr should let him go, but the old Guardian did move his huge hand from chest to shoulder. Time to start moving, Simon; the sun's not getting any higher in the sky here. "Come, then, and we will go to the towers."
Reply
Madness, clearly, was a relative term.
The deep rumble that, to Simon, made the ground hum got his attention back quick enough. His hand dropped and his eyes went wide like the giant talking statue of Hippocrates (that at the moment had wings again) was the highest authority on the whole planet.
"Towers?" he blinked, and then his mouth formed a quiet 'oh'. "Yes, the towers."
He turned then, feeling the comforting weight of a large hand on his shoulder and...was it straight ahead then? Surely so. But if the giant talking statue of Hippocrates (who may or may not have wings at this point, Simon wasn't looking so it was impossible to say...Schrodinger's wings, if you will) wanted to steer him in the proper direction then that was probably for the best.
Plus it gave him a grand view.
Reply
The statue...erm, Garr did indeed still have his wings, absently held now a little higher from his shoulders as he walked, an old habit of his that made his considerable bulk look larger still. A Guardian's silent language: this one is with me. Don't even consider it. But the warm-skinned grip on Simon's shoulder never tightened, nor did Garr's deep voice turn fierce.
He was a creature comfortable in silence when it happened, but it seemed he should keep the man talking. Having words to focus upon seemed to be helping, at least a little, and anyway-
"You have a room in the towers." It was not a question. "Do you remember which room it is?"
Doubtful, but.
Reply
Leave a comment