:: Madrigus' decimation of their chipmunk brother cleared the crazy Madrigus pheromone haze from the remaining 'munks. They scattered with a speed that whipped his robes around his frame, like a chipmunk-wind. For a moment one got tangled in the hem but it wrenched itself free with a tiny little squeak and fled after its brethren.
Stories thereabouts would speak of a pack of chipmunks fleeing for the border like a small, furry tide; sorrow heavy in their tiny eyes. Their God had failed them. Forthwith they would worship cheese.
(Cheese did not bite your head off. And... It was Cheese. What more need be explained?)
Somewhere in the woods a tiny statue of Madrigus burns - a silent memoriam to a fallen friend and a shattered Faith.
As the group travels from the AAA to the farm area of town it's pretty much same old, same old.
Any attempt to track in a town is kind of an exercise in frustration - but, hey, try if you want to. The results will be something like this: 25+ people passed this way. Some wore boots. Some wore shoes. One intrepid soul wore flip-flops. A lot of dogs came through. Some cats. WAY too many squirrels to count. Grass is bent. Dirt is scuffed. Small rocks are overturned. If it was only a quiet glade in the woods these details might be important, but in a town...?
The group peels into the field, their gazes taking in the bucolic scenery. Which is to say… grass. Lots of grass. One might expect a sheep or three to be cropping on the grass, that’s how bucolic the scene is.
Butterflies flit about, flirting with bees that skim the air looking for flowers to pollinate. A bird pecks at the ground, taking flight as the group breaks the golden late-day, the kids all went home for snacks or naps or making-their-moms-pull-their-hair-out silence.
In case it isn’t clear enough, ain’t no one been through here for some time.
Chickens peck at the ground behind the fencing around the chicken coop. Several look a little ruffled. Here and there on the ground are loose feathers - not the standard stray down, but actual feathers. Like, maybe, there's been a ruckus sometime recently.
(Visual - you know how in Fable sometimes you just HAD to kick a chicken? For distance? Yeah... Picture that)
Stuck to the side of a coop is a blue B post-it. On the post-it is:
I fear nothing. Except chickens. I have seen the face of evil. It has a beak.
The post-it is grubby, like maybe it got dropped into the dirt then picked up again before being stuck to the wall. If the group hovers there too long they will see the wisdom of these words, for the chickens are unquestionably eyeballing them. ::
Statistics: Posted by kimp — Wed Oct 15, 2014 9:16 pm
]]>
:: she lifts her brows high enough to form furrows on her forehead deep enough to plant corn. Then narrows her gaze ::
Might not be the same. This one was wearing clothes. Though...
:: another pause :: come to think of it seemed like maybe not Her Clothes seeing as I'd swear I saw that shirt on Johnny Boo earlier.
Statistics: Posted by kimp — Fri Oct 10, 2014 3:03 pm
]]>
Taken aback, Sally snaps, "Some-body plum fool 'nough to take a shot gun inta they chicken coop- good way to blow out yer coop walls an' a coupla hens while you at it. Twenty-twos is made fer a damn reason! So what in tha blue hell you lookin' at?"
Sally squints all the same, trying to determine if either of the couple could be Liberty Blue in disguise. For a brief, brief moment, he even considers that they both could be, via some sortsa weird hoo-doo, but then recalls the rule against Funny Stuff.
As convinced as he can be that this is not the case, Sally keeps scanning the horizon. As the couple huffs away, he says, "Hey, ya'll see an In-di-an girl- like, Pun-jabi o' Ganges-zi, not Ab-en-aki, you get to hollarin'. She on a wild flashin' spree. Wouldn't want yer del-i-cate sensibilities harmed none."
He glances back to the AAA, hoping for a ruckus!
Statistics: Posted by Sally — Fri Oct 10, 2014 2:46 pm
]]>
A man and woman head along the road from the field across from the homes on Main Street. They speak in normal tones that still manage to carry. Local Number One says to Local Number Two...
(What? I know their names? Hmmm... sticking with the trend which seems to be that everyone seems to have double names in this place - like its a whacky combo of Redneckia and Whoville I'll take a shot in the dark and go with...)
Betty Sue Who says to Tommy Lou Who-Dat: Yeah, I took the shotgun over to the chicken coop when I heard the disturbance. Figured I'd catch me a fox there, what with all the racket the chickens were making but I didn't find hide nor hair of a critter.
Tommy Lou then says: You check under the coop? In the boxes? Under the hay? You know them foxes can be tricksy.
Betty Sue gives Tommy Lou 'the eye': What kind of backwoods fool you take me for Tommy Lou?
She stops, shakes a finger at him: Don't you be answering that Tommy Lou. Don't you be answering that.
Tommy Lou grins and snatches the finger Betty Sue is shaking and raises it towards his mouth as if for a kiss: Only fool here 'bouts is me, Betty Sue.
Betty Sue blushes and makes to snatch her hand back, but her motion is for sure slow: Aw, you!
Then she turns a look on Sally, her eyes narrowed. In a raised voice she snaps: What you looking at?
((Narrator note: For the sake of my sanity I'm going to establish that ya'll are about 45 minutes into this thing at this point. Just to hammer down a timeline
))Statistics: Posted by kimp — Fri Oct 10, 2014 10:56 am
]]>
:: Its a typical day in the AAA. One of the servers is wiping down the tables with a rag, their head bobbing along with the music from the jukebox. Several people are sitting at one of the tables towards the front of the diner, engrossed in a mean game of pinochle. The sound of sweeping comes subtly from the area near the 'secondary' front door. There are sounds of food prep coming from the kitchen. And a lovely smell, like baking blueberry pie. Yum. :
As Kelsey makes her way to the door leading to the back porch/lakeside entrance, she may note a blue post-it B stuck haphazardly to the interior door frame, sort of slapped up there at around knee-height and threatening to fall at any moment.
On the front of the post-it is written "Leo/Sally"
On the back it reads: Leo. And or Sally. I would like monkey-picked oolong. Or a monkey minion to pick my oolong. ::
Statistics: Posted by kimp — Wed Oct 08, 2014 9:31 pm
]]>
She grinned at Victor's enthusiasm and did her best to keep up with the teenager's stride. "Probably. And I bet Flo could find you some ice cream. She's the woman who runs the diner; real nice, pretty eyes, got red hair she usually keeps done up in a ponytail. Let's see...you focus on the left side of the diner, and I'll focus on the right? Flo's usually in the back left, in the kitchen, and the Ross boys usually claim the table in the back right, so we can both pretend we're looking for someone else entirely."
((I'll hop over and make a thread in the AAA Diner. Update: ))
Statistics: Posted by Owle Isohos — Wed Oct 08, 2014 2:58 pm
]]>
she pauses for a minute, still holding kelsey's hand, frowns at the ground, cocks her head.
"we should probably, like, play it cool &casual, and keep a low profile, huh? i can do that. do they have ice cream?"
Statistics: Posted by vVv — Wed Oct 08, 2014 12:32 am
]]>
She frowned a little at the thought, then shrugged. "Anyway, that sounds like a plan. You with me, Victor?"
Statistics: Posted by Owle Isohos — Tue Oct 07, 2014 5:22 pm
]]>
:: There is a man near the AAA. He has one end of a leash in his hand, the other disappears beneath the porch. He is muttering “Come on, Buffy.” There is an edge of frustration in his voice that suggests he may have been saying that, or similar words, for a little while now.
As the group approaches, he looks up and shakes his head, “Stupid dog dug deep in there and refuses to come out. She ran under there after this woman ran up here. Buff decided to bark and lunge at the woman and I thought for sure there was going to be some kind of thing, but then the woman crouched down, looked Buff in the eyes until she stopped barking then reached over, looked at Buffy’s license, and said something that made Buff tuck tail and head for hiding.”
He slants a glance towards the porch and shakes the leash again, “Darned Dog.”
If the group asks, he’ll wave vaguely in the direction of the AAA, “I think she went that way.”
That said he goes back to trying to tug his little Vampire Slayer out from hiding, only to turn again with a blue B post-it in his hands. “She said if I saw someone looking for her I should give... uh... Alice this.”
On the post-it is the rough drawing of a giant leg with a little dog fastened by the mouth to it. Scribbled on the back of the drawing is, in quotes, “Toby vs. Godzilla”
Because that just explains everything. Or nothing. Probably absolutely nothing. But, who knows…?
Stuck to the back of that post-it is another one on which is written in a very small, slightly shaky hand:
Alice: You seem opposed to leading, but did you ever think to take point? Then you lead without leading and others fall in or not. The huntsman doesn't lead the pack - he releases them and follows - as they are the true hunters. The true test is how you work in tandem, balancing your strengths, not in how you follow. ::
Statistics: Posted by kimp — Tue Oct 07, 2014 4:11 pm
]]>
"Well, Kelse' mah cookin' ain't never failt me yet, an'..." he furrows his brow for a moment, "I gotta admit it served as a coupla fellas last meals a coupla times..." he shakes his head at such a morbid notion, "An' it ain't never got no complaints. Though, these here town folks is right keen on lodgin' com-plaints..." Sally shrugs. More for him.
He looks to their leader, and Leo looks lost in thought, perhaps analyzing their next move, but not stopping their ascent back towards the AAA.
"Aight, we's runnin' outta time, so might as well git on wit' it," Sally says, "mebbe try ou' wide net trick a-gain, see if we can see anythin'. They's like to be a scant more folks at the AAA than any-where else, so gon' have to keep an eye to dis-guises."
Sally clicks his teeth a few times, then looks to Victor, "Liberty's 'bout yay high," he levels his hand at Liberty's height, "Long black hair, eyes wit' usually some sortsa blue 'round 'em," he scratches at his 'chops, "But 'steada that, look fer tics. Mood shifts, real quick like- real in-tense concentration then whip-snap onta somethin' else. She ain't gon' be startled if ya try bunglin' her up, just gon' go right inta Jack-a-lopin' off fer tha territories."
He looks to Kelsey, "You prolly know folks a spot better tha' the rest of us," Sally says, "So maybe you do a first pass-through wit' the kid, lookin' fer any out-liers? Mebbe Mad-ri-gus hang out on the far end, jus' outside, so you can pass word ta him?" he turns to Madrigus, "Yer sharper than a bonin' knife, so maybe you keep eyes on the exits from the back side, over by the Bell Tower?"
Turning to Alice & Leo, "That leaves us coverin' the back door, the path up to Main Street, an' somebody a bit ways back, lookin' to spot if she's 'round, watchin' what we're up to in the Tavern?"
[If we jump threads to the AAA, then back to here, that might cause some Chaos, but could be worth it]
Statistics: Posted by Sally — Tue Oct 07, 2014 3:09 pm
]]>
She watched Sally's interaction with the squirrel with wide eyes, but eventually gave way to laughter once it was chucked away. "I gotta say, Sally, I'm looking forward to seeing your pie. Though I don't know how many townsfolk'll be brave enough to try it!"
She nodded to Alice, then turned to Madrigus. "We said no funny business, and aside from...well, actually, even including those rodent visitors to the diner, I have no idea where a population of squirrels would hole up around here. I think Sally's right, and we might want to check the diner - it's the easiest place to get to from here, anyway."
Statistics: Posted by Owle Isohos — Mon Oct 06, 2014 4:32 pm
]]>
]]>
The broken branches on the fallen tree are close together with barely enough room for small animals to course between them; the ends of them are really sharp. Like lose a spleen sharp.
Its a safe bet no one with any sense would even consider going over that fallen tree.
The road that the group came down earlier is viewable through the trees to the left, if you lean a little. When facing directly into the clearing, the viewer will face a big old thicket of pricker bushes that seem pretty impassible.
All in all its an empty clearing in the woods that shows zero sign of humans ever having been there.
Smart money says that maybe a fat squirrel found a lollipop stuck in some mud by the water, picked it up, and stomped its fat butt and sweet, sweet prize back into the clearing to enjoy it. Being that its butt was inordinately fat it probably left a bit of a trail behind it. Maybe, possibly, a clever person would have anticipated that? Even planned for it? Just a thought
::Statistics: Posted by kimp — Sun Oct 05, 2014 12:59 am
]]>
Well, that and imagining conversations involving 'No, I said NOT the horns! NOT THE HORNS! Rawr!'
P. s. The narrator has also been singing Squirrels In My Pants from Phineas and Ferb. A lot. ::
reference: http://youtu.be/0nKG_O0Ei_o
Statistics: Posted by kimp — Fri Oct 03, 2014 11:08 pm
]]>
]]>