[open] monstas!

[amberhearted]

Who: Alexander, open!
When: March 29th through the first week of April.
Where: Various locations in Locke City.
What: Encounters with the no-longer-quite-so-mundane item monsters both on and off the clock.
Warnings: tba!

Various prompts in the comments!

A: Playing cards versus Starbucks
B: Answering a monster-related 911 call
C: Bring your own adventure

Prompts are in prose, but it doesn't matter which format you use. I'll match!

Comments

A: 3/29 Saturday, ~6:30AM: Wherein Starbucks comes under attack

[amberhearted]

Rejoining the work force means the occasional Starbucks run for coworkers. It's an errand Alex is more than happy to do, finding the opportunity in and of itself yet another privilege after previously losing it.

Rather than the sheathed sword or the unloaded rifle in the backseat of his truck, he arms himself with a paper of scribbled orders and joins the line of early birds waiting for their caffeine fix. Everything goes smoothly -- he even flips the paper and sets it down on the counter so the barista can double check it. Fifteen minutes later, he's out the door with two drink carriers and a paper bag hung from his wrist, thanking the person who graciously held the door open for him.

This streak of good luck is about to come to an end.

As he steps onto the lot, he hears a car honking angrily. Glancing in the sound's direction, he sees a strange set of silhouettes -- flat and rectangular. He's just about to reach Binklesworth, his truck, when the silhouettes become discernible. In the dim light just before sunrise, light enough for the pole lights to have already shut off, are four pink-and-white cards.

They are as tall as an adult and marching towards the entrance of Starbucks. The party is composed of: the King of Clubs, armed with a sword; the Jack of Clubs, armed with a spear; the Eight of Clubs, armed with a crowbar; and the Seven of Clubs, armed with a metal bat.

Alex nearly drops his drinks.

[ OOC: These are playing card monsters! Their limbs protrude from the illustrated design on their suit side. The deck is based off of Bicycle's pink reverse deck. ]

[chalicejoker]

So playing card monsters traipsing through traffic has a bit of a negative effect on traffic. Namely, they slow things down, even if you're a motorcyclist. Hajime's very glad he's wearing a helmet, because that's just as good as a mask, right? He's staring in disbelief at the playing cards and wondering if he should turn into the bugman form he usually uses, or use the armored form he'd regained with the Ace of Hearts. But it would be easier to explain sudden superhero armor than the Lord of the Bugmen suddenly appearing in traffic...

The armored form messes with his motorcycle, too. Good enough. He summons his transformation belt, runs the Ace of Hearts through his belt buckle, and both he and the bike change. He peels out of the traffic snarl in pursuit of the cards.

[amberhearted]

Alex has just recovered from the shock of seeing real-live playing cards when the screech from Hajime burning rubber hits the air. He winces, then hurries to his truck, nearly dumping the drink holders onto the roof so he can grab his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door.

He throws a bewildered glance over his shoulder. The pink cards have stopped and twisted their thin bodies around to find the source of commotion. Alex doesn't recognize Hajime in this form, familiar only with him as the Lord of the Bugmen.

[chalicejoker]

Hajime's coming in fast when he feels the sense of an echo going off in his head. He ignores it, because these cards are suddenly pissing him off. They're wrong. The king is not a tarantula, the jack is not an elephant, the eight is not a scorpion, and the seven is not a jellyfish. He doesn't even take a moment to think about this as he pops a wheelie and goes in to ram the king, using the motorcycle sort of like a knight might use a warhorse.

So far, he hasn't noticed Alex in the area. He's too focused on delivering armored motorcycle justice to these inferior card monsters. Watch out, card creatures, the Joker's running wild. He is also yelling at them in his monster language, partially to see if they respond to the language of other card monsters, and partially because it is excellent for cursing in.

[amberhearted]

Alex is more than happy to let the armored guy who sort of looks like a human-sized Gundam (to his eyes, anyway) wrestle with the cards while he wrestles with getting the door open and his drinks in the passenger's feet area. Casting glances over his shoulder every couple of seconds, he catches brief snippets of the wheelie, then a card down, and then the Jack of Clubs jabbing his spear Hajime's way while the other two swing their crowbar and bat at him.

As he's whipping his cab door open to snatch his sword, he freezes for half a second, then slams the door closed. That is a language he thinks sounds familiar. The only person he's ever heard it from -- not the mention the voice itself--

He unsheathes his sword, throws the sheath in the bed of his truck, and charges into the fray.

[chalicejoker]

Hajime is well aware that he's under attack on multiple fronts, but at least he gets the satisfaction of putting tire tracks all over the King. Besides, whatever he used to be--and to some extent, whatever he is now--thrived on fighting. He's twisting in an attempt to catch the crowbar and bat on his armor as he briefly touches down with the bike only to rear up in another wheelie and try to swing it to knock the spear out of the Jack's hands.

He barely glances at Alex when Alex charges in, though that's more out of necessity than just not caring. Fight now, figure out what's going on later. "See if you can get the one with the bat!"

3/30 Sunday Morning, 6:30 AM

[moreweaponsthanyou]

Fil tries to keep from buying Starbucks coffee to once, at most twice a week. Aunt Mardis has a perfectly good coffee maker in the house and good beans to go with it; there's no need to spend hard-earned money on Starbucks coffee. However, there was something about Starbuck's salted caramel mocha that he just couldn't resist, especially after a morning jog. Six thirty was actually really early for Fil, particularly on a Sunday morning jog would clear the last of the cobwebs from his mind.

And unlike Alex, he does drop his half-finished drink on the ground when he exits the Starbucks after Alex.

"Damnit. I knew I should have just slept in today. First we get giant snakes, and now this?"

[amberhearted]

Today, Alex had gone to Starbucks to make up for yesterday morning's Clubs on a Mission card fiasco. So when he exits and finds yet another group of familiar shapes marching up towards the doors, he once again stops in his tracks -- this time, in exasperated disbelief.

"You're shitting me."

Today's army -- unit -- perhaps deck is the best word to describe the group, even if they're not complete -- consists of the King of Diamonds, armed with an axe; the Jack of Diamonds, armed with a halberd; and the Five, Four, Three and Two of Diamonds, each holding some manner of weapon far less glamorous than the royals -- metal pipes, metal knuckles, a mallet...

Fil's drink hits the ground, the sound of which snaps Alex's attention away from the oncoming playing cards. He glances at Fil. There's something about that particular remark...

"Can you fight?"

[moreweaponsthanyou]

Well, no point in beating about the bush now, especially since those giant, weapon-carrying playing cards didn't look like they were here for Starbucks coffee. Besides, it looks like Alex was a Numbered, or he wouldn't have asked the question, since Fil was fairly sure other man overheard his first remark.

"I can, but I left my axe at home. Wasn't really expecting to have to use it when I'm out on a morning job." He answered, watching as the playing cards marched closer. He could here a commotion starting behind him in the Starbucks store as other coffee-drinkers close to the windows spotted the playing cards marching up.

[amberhearted]

At least two of those baristas behind the counters are rubbing the bridge of their nose or facepalming at what looks like a repeat of yesterday morning.

Backing up to the doors, Alex kicks the bottom of one with the back of his foot a couple of times to grab someone's attention so he can pass off his drinks. Before he lets the door swing shut, though, he glances at Fil, then inside Starbucks again. He points to and motions for one of their wooden chairs. An older man drags it to him, holding the door open enough for Alex to carry the chair out.

Setting the chair down sideways, he stomps down on the legs, breaking them off to use as makeshift weapons. He talks quickly while doing so. "I got a sword, but it's in my truck." He tosses the first two chair legs Fil's way. "Maybe you can use these first, steal the King's axe."

The cards are almost close...

[moreweaponsthanyou]

If this happens again TOMORROW when he heads out for work, he'll know not to drop his drink, but to hand it over to another person first. And maybe carry a weapon with him, but even with what went on during the giant snake event, carrying swords or axes will draw odd looks and questions that Fil was not eager to answer. He'd managed to stay under the radar from the press and the police and he'd like to stay that way.

Fil caught the two chair legs handily, one in each hand. He supposed he could use the two makeshift clubs just like an ax until he could get a real one in hand. IF he could get the King's ax off of the card. "You've done this before....during the giant snake business? Or more recent?"

Then there was no more time for chitchating because the Diamond cards were attacking.

B: 4/1 Tuesday, 7AM-7PM: Wherein a Numbered paramedic answers a 911 call about a monster

[amberhearted]

Alex and his partner, Cassie, a coworker he knew mostly in passing when he had previously worked dayshift, are enjoying a snack (in Alex's case, just a Life Savers candy), when dispatch sends them to a call in their area. Seatbelts are buckled, lights are flipped on, and half a sandwich is scarfed down at light speed as the ambulance pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road.

The cause for the call sounds dubious, but hey, says dispatch, that's what the caller said.

Around her sandwich, Cassie says, "I need this to be an April Fool's dumbass."

"What?" says Alex, though it's more a puff of amusement than a question. He doesn't risk taking his eyes off the road, but his lips curl in a lopsided smile. "You need this--"

"Gotta meet my quota. The integrity of my hair is riding on this." After a pause of expectant silence, she adds, "I made a bet with Alice."

Alex's response is an "oh my god" squeezed around his candy and a chuckle.

Hopefully, Cassie meets her quota with a different call because this one's a monster.

[ OOC: What it says on the tin! Alex is a paramedic and he's responding to a dispatch for a reincarnate who has called for an ambulance for a monster-related reason. ]

Around midday!

[destinedforrock]

The call had come via cellular phone from a hysterical woman who was unclear about precisely what her emergency was, to anyone's ears, but my my could she scream.

That "woman" was a local unicorn - who'd been strolling uptown and was down the block after her first trot into a very nice local coffee-and-tea shop - and, in fact, her emergency is a bad hair day.

Woeful understatement!

By the time the ambulance arrives she's gotten most of the screaming torn out into the air and blown away, and most of the mane torn off her head.

The back half of her body's tangled in the enormous accumulated hairball of a likewise enormous hairbrush and she bucks the best she can with both her hind legs off the ground and still half-screaming "Rrrrgh"s!

"Unhand me, you... RUFFIAN!" She twists her head around, not that she can't see it in her peripheral without looking further than that, to find a face to yell in - can't find one. "YOU TOOK MY HAIR; you are NOT taking MY TAIL!"

[amberhearted]

The faces of both paramedics are priceless. Years of muscle memory is what allows Alex to park and exit the ambulance as per the usual fashion instead of continue driving right into a building out of sheer bewilderment. The crowd previously encircled around Cinderella dispersed enough to allow the ambulance proximity, but cautiously creep closer after it's parked.

Though it's been weeks since Alex and Cinderella have last met, their current predicament makes this reunion a bit unsuitable for hellos and what've you been up tos. On the contrary, amidst responding to the what in heaven's names and general confusion delivered with a controlled (if rather sharp) voice by Cassie, he's quite concerned with how they're going to free Cinderella from those unruly and aggressive hairs (wow).

"Cinders!" yells Alex, to make himself heard over the struggle. He approaches from the side while Cassie approaches from behind, both of their EMT shears brandished. "Talk to me, Cinders. How did it take your hair?"

april 5th, late afternoon!

[duette]

[ OVER YONDER, I HOPE YOU'RE PREPARED TO TAKE A CALL FROM A GIRL REPORTEDLY GOING ON ABOUT MONSTERS AND EXPLODING POOP AND SENTIENT SHIRTS AND SHE THINKS SOMEONE IS DYING FROM PHANTOM BLOOD LOSS...

Good luck. ]

C: 3/31 M, or 4/2 W, daylight hours: Wherein a Numbered dude is out and about when a monster appears

[amberhearted]

Alex is still enjoying the freedom of driving his truck around without fear of recognition. He might be near a store, grocery shopping for Reilanin, or maybe he's at a park, just relaxing and appreciating the fresh, if chilly, air. Not even his distaste for the cold can put a damper on his spirits!

So naturally, one of those bizarre monsters annoying and/or terrorizing the city shows up. Shit, son.

[ OOC: Alex has his sword and his rifle in the back of his truck, though he's unlikely to use the rifle as anything but a blunt weapon. ]

4/2

[detectivetroll]

This has been the craziest couple of days in a long time. And Nick's including the majority of what's happened with the network in that, which - probably says something about his life, that he's used to network crap.

He's not used to random object monsters irritating the hell out of the entirety of Locke City. Or having to field an insane amount of 911 calls - even in the homicide department, he can only imagine how bad the other departments have it right now.

Especially the traffic cops.

But he's not on duty for the moment, fortunately, just going for a nice walk in the park - one that gets nicer when he spots a familiar face. And, of course, since he doesn't spot any mysterious keys that may or may not have found their way into unsuspecting pockets, he heads over with a wry smile. "So how's your week been?"

[amberhearted]

Those poor, haggard traffic cops.

Leaning against a tree with his phone in hand, the airline protocol of flying an animal out of state on his screen, Alex glances up at the sound of Nick's voice and flashes him a smile of his own. "About as ridiculous as yours, I'll bet."

He pushes off from the tree and, shoving the phone into his jeans pocket, holds a gloved hand out in a standard handshake of greeting. "So what've you been called to?" he asks, referring to the monsters. "I heard about the Altoids, man." He shakes his head in sympathy. "Those poor people."

Peppermint powder assaulting the eyes, nose, and throat? Awful.

[detectivetroll]

Nick gives an amused snort at that, because yeah, it's probably true. It's an interested week to be a public servant. He reaches out to give Alex's hand a friendly grasp, smiling at him and then shaking his head at the question.

"Those have been terrible, yeah. I know a few people with, uh, a better than average sense of smell, I'm hoping they don't get hit." He doesn't want to come out and say 'network members,' but yeah. "What haven't I been called to, man? So far my favorite's been a kidnapping that turned out to be a little girl stuck in a giant wad of gum, and a woman who tried to cover up a murder by using these weird things as an excuse."

[amberhearted]

Alex understands immediately that Lyall is one of those people. Reilanin, too-- both of them with their werewolf qualities. The corners of his lips quirk upward briefly in acknowledgement.

"Shit," he says, the vowel dragged out as he rocks on the balls of his feet. "I heard about that one. That's another downside to this whole mess, too. I'd like to hope no one else gets 'inspired'--" The quotes are definitely audible. "--but, you know." He shrugs. Both of them have seen some shit in their respective fields, and that includes how filthy humanity can dirty their hands.

"Poor girl, though. Get this, though," he says, shaking his head with a light laugh. "I walked into a would-be siege two mornings straight. I'm not volunteering for any more coffee runs until this shit calms down."

[detectivetroll]

He tilts his head in a slight nod - he'd assumed Alex would get it without further clarification. They're both likely worried about the same people, after all.

"Yeah." He pushes his hand through his hair. "Nothing like a little reminder that humans can be terrible up there with the best of them." But hey, at least that part of the job is almost normal. ...a really shitty part of normal, but still.

Nick's eyebrows raise at that. "Yeah? Give me the details, I might have to put off my own coffee runs."

3/31

[gobybessie]

There had been a book just lying about on the ground. Seemingly harmless when John bent to pick it up, but the moment he touched it, it sprang to life and spit papers at him before taking off in the opposite direction. Which just so happens to be in Alex's direction.

Heads up, Alex. Chapter four's title page is coming your way.

Re: 3/31

[amberhearted]

Alex has a split second to react. He spends it impersonating a deer in headlights.

CHAPTER 4 BLOOMS AND THE CITY OF BURNED CLUTCHES and the accompanying text slaps him right in the face. With his free hand (the other is holding a paper bag with knitting supplies), he makes to peel the paper off of his face...

...only to find that he cannot.

Really, that it hadn't glided to the ground upon impact ought to have been hint enough that this is no ordinary book page. Try as he might, the page appears to be clinging onto him with each corner as if for dear life.

[gobybessie]

Following the book's tail is John. He's covered in pages - especially on the arms - but has managed to avoid them hitting his face. They seem content trying to hold him up that way.

Which means the book is much faster, but with Alex distracting it he manages to force it to the ground, keeping it shut with his hands. It's struggling against it, of course, but he manages to eventually stand on it. And hopefully that'll keep it.

"Try tearing it!"

He hasn't tried it himself yet, but maybe.

[amberhearted]

He can hear the commotion with John and the book, but he can't see it. Rather than flail around in the middle of the sidewalk and potentially walk into someone, he makes his way to the side of the building. Luckily, passerbys are more than willing to give him a wide berth.

At John's words, Alex grips the top of the page and pulls down. For whatever reason, the page is a lot more durable than mundane paper -- the same reason it's stubbornly sticking to him at all, he thinks. With enough force, though, the page does tear in half, allowing Alex to see once more.

His eyes widen at the sight of John's papery mess. "What happened?" he asks, closing the distance between them with long strides. He pushes the handles of the paper bag up to the crook of his elbow, then starts tearing the pages off of John.