multiversallogs | the little one stops to shut the gate

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the little one stops to shut the gate :: [OPEN]

Who: A whole lot of ants and YOU!
What: Exploring houses overrun by giant ants! Interacting with ants!
Where: Three specific ant hive houses have cropped up in Baedal.
When: The ants become visible late Sukkardi, so any time after Shundi will do.
Notes: To organize expeditions into the ant hives and to see what your characters will find there, please see the OOC post. NPCs, general GMing, and mod guidance are all available upon request.
Warnings: Bugs! Possible horror. Will update as needed.

When the ants come out of the ground it happens very quietly and it happens at night. Baedal wakes up to chitinous sound of insect labour. At first there is some panic - memories of strange creatures emerging from below to attack the city fresh in everyone's mind - but it is soon evident that the ants, while curious, pose no immediate threat to the City. They seem content to work and live inside the houses they have occupied; houses no one has noticed or cared about for years.

Soon, the ant-occupied houses begin to change. The ants are building something on the rooftops, something like towers, stretching towards the heavens. Birds that fly too close to the buildings quickly disappear.

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The house is the colour of sandstone, at one time whitewashed. It has alcoves and faded carvings along the outer wall facing the street, and was built with some kind of stone. Some might recognize it as a result of Fatimid architecture. The insides are run down and worn, but there is a distinct lack of trash or graffiti. Someone has left a stack of paintings against a wall.

This house is the last on the end of a series of row houses. What's visible through the hive shows that the wooden front porch was once a robin's egg blue, but that it had last seen a fresh coat of paint many years ago. The tiny front lawn has been reclaimed by some enterprising local to grow a few herbs, while the back has been left to grow to seed and fill with whatever bits of trash haven't yet been taken away for recycling -- with resources as scarce as they are, everything must and can be reused. Inside, the upper floors are almost entirely blocked off with honeycombed ant trails and that suggests the insects have been building in this house for longer than they've been 'out' in the city.

Occupied until a couple weeks previously, the building once contained a small, family-run sewing machine repair shop. For reasons unknown, the whole family (and let's be honest, they didn't really look all that related) either left for another part of the city or just vanished in the night, leaving behind all their equipment. Perhaps somewhere in this hive there's an ant with a sense of whimsy because the walls of the hive have been studded and almost decorated with little, glittery bits of old machines and bobbins.

That the ants aren't attacking folks doesn't make this any more interesting than it otherwise be, but it feels like it does, because it's way easier to go tromping around in search of what the weird bugs are up to when the weird bugs aren't trying to have you over for dinner. Maybe they're biding their time? That's a good enough reason to check this out as soon as possible. He's been at this all morning, long sleeved shirt and less nice pants, instead of dressed all formal, with a walking stick in hand, following ants around. He heard someone mention an overrun house, so he's made his way into this neighborhood.

Also potentially dangerous, sure. He mills around, observing the house, unwilling to venture forth on his own, quite yet. His curiosity has not yet convinced his common sense that it is necessary to do so. He's packed two bottles of vinegar in his backpack, and some donuts, hoping either would be a fair enough diversion for a couple ants, in a pinch, but that house isn't hosting a couple ants. He also packed a sandwich, but that's his.

This thing with the ants is more than a little odd, and Jones doesn't need to be able to see the strings of Fate to have a feeling that this is connected to the shenanigans going on when she arrived.

(To be perfectly fair, Jones's interest here is somewhat more than that of civic duty—no one's going to notice some sewing machine bits missing in all of this, and if she can get her very own working sewing machine cobbled together, that would be fantastic.)

Her approach is careful—the ants don't really seem to care about her as she inches up the front walk, but she's a little unsettled by their size. It's not like she's squeamish about insects, because cockroaches are kind of unavoidable now and then back where she lived before, but they weren't anything like this size.

Cassandra had been sent to the shop several times by her employers. Frankly, she didn't care much for sewing machines. When you created a machine to do the work of a human, you took something away from that human. But the machines were a necessity in the shop, so Cassandra obeyed, dutifully taking the broken machines down to be repaired.

Somehow, she knew, long before she arrived, that something was amiss today.

When she arrived at the shop, she saw the creatures. Her first instinct was to consider them fellow citizens. After all, she had gotten her fill of talking animals (and blue things) back in Rowan. But the way they were moving, Cassandra somehow doubted that they were sentient. And she was a little more than afraid that they weren't terribly friendly, either.

The woman standing in front of the shop seemed like a better bet.

"I don't suppose you know if this is ordinary?" she asked.

"Doesn't seem to be," says Jones—resisting the urge to jump out of her skin at being addressed suddenly. She allows herself a moment to regain her breath. "The people I heard about this from seemed to think it was unusual, at the very least. That, and unusual critters suddenly appearing around here are, well, a bit suspect, after what happened, I suppose."

She steps aside momentarily to let by one of the ants. "That, and this just unsettles me the tiniest bit. In any case, looks like the shop's closed indefinitely," she adds, noting that the other woman looked like she was on business here, rather than looking to investigate.

Mike has actually handled the arrival of the ants with a fair degree of aplomb; he's seen and dealt with camel spiders before, on his trips over to Saudi Arabia. Those things can put on some serious speed and have a vicious bite when they get testy, so the ants seem almost cuddly by comparison. He's fascinated, and is wondering if there's some connection between them and the last bout of strange creature invasions. So here he is, on Swinton Street, studying what was once a house and is now turning into a humongous anthill. He wonders if it might eventually spread down the row.

He's brought along some things the ants might like to eat, himself, including the Charms candy that came with some of his MRE packs and which no serviceman will actually eat. Doing so is considered bad luck, but Mike's pretty sure that offering them to well-behaved giant ants doesn't fall into that category. He's armed, but really hoping that the weapons won't be necessary. And he has some extra MRE packages with him; more potential distractions for the ants, who might find the chicken fajitas more palatable than he does.

Eddie spots Mike, and raises an arm for an enthusiastic wave. That's good luck, there! A ~~cleric~~ navy medic to hide behind! From the... terribly un-ferocious ants.

He heads for the other fellow, and returns his attention to the house. "Hey, Mike! Wild, isn't it?"

"I think that goes without much saying," Cassandra said dryly, turning to watch the ant skitter by. Carefully, she lifted the hem of her chiton as it passed near her. She could only imagine how one of her sisters might have reacted to the creature. It would involve copious amounts of screaming and shrieking. Cassandra felt horribly jaded. "Just as well, those machines were a menace."

She took a moment to size up the other woman. Although she looked mature, Cassandra estimated that she was a bit younger than she appeared. It was all in the voice. She wasn't terribly fazed by the creatures. She must have seen a lot.

"Are you new here?"

And look there, a familiar face! Mike grins and waves back, walking carefully over to Eddie. He doesn't want to step on any of the ants or any of their workings, after all.

"Hey, Eddie!" He grins, watching as several of the gerbil-sized workers trudge past, carrying astonishingly large loads with ease. "That it is. They seem harmless enough... wonder if I could talk 'em into doing a little wall repair around my place."

Insert "carpenter ant" joke here.

Eddie grins back, and leans on the walking stick. It suits him much less than a proper cane. Oh well. Fancy dress isn't going to impress the ants, anyway.

"Hm. Harmless, maybe... don't you think it's weird that they're not hostile? There are enough of them that they could be trouble for us, if they wanted to be. But they're being such good widdle ants, yes they are..." He kneels and tilts his head as he watches them, but the baby-talk tone is sarcastic. He doesn't actually think they're adorable. "Maybe they're positioning their pawns, which makes me wonder about the queen."

"More or less," says Jones, distractedly, as she tries to peer through the window next to the door, on tiptoe. "I arrived at the very end of the recent, erm, unpleasantness... sorry, I've not introduced myself. Jones, from Chicago, United States, Earth, circa 1932." She hoists herself up on the railing, swaying a little precariously, to get a better look.

Cassandra walked over. She had a very limited amount of strength in her arms, but she could break a fall as well as any other cushion. She looked up, wondering what Jones was looking for. Clearly something. This couldn't have just been a happenstance. Cassandra had pretty much given up on the whole notion of happenstance a long time ago.

"I've never heard of Chicago," Cassandra said, watching her. "Is it anywhere near Los Angeles? I knew some people from Los Angeles awhile back."

"It's about fifteen hundred miles east of Los Angeles, give or take, I believe. Another big city, same country." All right, doesn't look like there's anything large and/or terrifying inside—mostly a lot of odd new structures that look like they were built by ants. She hops down off the railing delicately, without the slightest wobble. "Looks safe, more or less. I don't see anything that looks like it would be able to eat someone our size, anyway."

She moves to enter, and then looks back at Cassandra. "Um, I don't know if you..."

The thought of going inside hadn't even crossed Cassandra's mind. But if this girl was going to explore, well...Cassandra's curiosity wouldn't be denied, certainly. She hitched up the hem of her dress, tucking it into the waist of her chiton. She looked like a Spartan girl now, showing off her legs like that. But honestly, Apollo wasn't around, so it didn't really matter all that much.

She walked over to Jones, assuming the air of someone who did this sort of thing often, if only to bolster her own confidence.

"My name is Cassandra," she said politely. "If we're going to be killed together, I figure you should at least know my name."

Jones grins. "One should always be prepared for death," she says. "The name's Jones. Into the breach, then." She takes a deep breath, and carefully steps over the trails of gerbil-sized ants going to and fro to step inside. Hopefully somewhere that didn't have any ants on it. There was just something distressing about stepping on something alive that was the size of your hand.

And then she's through. And looks like they're not all over the floor, in any case, although there seems to be certain paths they're traveling regularly. "Come on," she says, poking her head around the door. "It's safe over here."

Cassandra followed Jones' path, dodging from side to side to avoid the ants. They were really quite disgusting. They reminded Cassandra, strangely enough, of Achilles' army. The Myrmidons. Everyone believed that they were descended from ants, changed into men by the gods. And she could see plenty of similarities in the way that the creatures moved and organized themselves, so neatly, so distinctly.

"Death isn't what it used to be," she deadpanned. "I died once."

Mike studies the ants as they walk past, nodding. "And wonder how big she is. They do seem to have an agenda of some kind..."

One of the little workers tries to hoist its load up a step, and ends up stuck, struggling to finish the maneuver and unable to. At the moment, none of the others are near. On impulse, Mike walks over and gives the ant a gentle boost up the step. It stops, puts its load down, and turns around, touching his hand with its feelers for a moment. Then it picks up the load and continues on.

"That was interesting."

Mike clearly has no aversion to creepy-crawly things, and is starting to look at the house speculatively. Like he's thinking about going inside.

Eddie observes this, interested in the critter's reaction. He hmms, and follows Mike's gaze from that ant to the building, then looks over at Mike, reading that expression, and smirks. "Dare you."

That gets a laugh. "Should I ring the doorbell and run away?"

Instead, though, he starts following the path that the little ant took. He glances back at Eddie.

"You coming?"

"Certainly! I wouldn't dream of depriving you of my expertise." With breaking into houses, naturally. Not with giant ants. He is downright cheerful at the prospect, now that he has company.

He mentally runs through what he has on his person, and its location. He shifts the walking stick to his other hand, and slips the first hand into his pocket, palming something, before following after Mike.

That statement gives Jones a moment of pause in the midst of inspecting the new decorating scheme. She doesn't turn around. "You died once," she says, levelly. "Is that a figure of speech, or..."

"Literal," Cassandra replied. "Stabbed to death. It was an unpleasant experience."

Secretly, Cassandra was beginning to enjoy saying things like that. As someone who so often observed people, she enjoyed watching their reactions. They ranged across a wide continuum from utter shock and disbelief to complete acceptance, like it was the most natural confession in the whole world. Based on what she had seen of Jones so far, she was guessing something in the middle, erring on the side of acceptance. There was something about this woman. She had seen...things.

"As you can see, my health has improved."

There are giant ants walking around Boromir's neighbourhood which is unusual even by Baedel's standards (he...guesses). After his initial moment of what the, he notices that the creatures aren't behaving erratically -unlike the last invasion- but instead move with order and precision. He tentatively moves a little closer to them, his hand pausing above his sword just in case, but they don't seem to see him as a threat. They carry on with their task regardless of curious giants.

Boromir starts to follow them until he comes across the empty repair shop which...doesn't make the entire thing less weird. Honestly, is this something people forgot to tell him about?

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the little one stops to shut the gate :: [OPEN]

The House on Crocked End, Echomire

The House on Swinton Street, Riverskin

The House on Amicable Ally, Sobek Croix

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