crux_fleet | (no subject)

Who: Rosette and YOU
Where: One of the main thoroughfares into the market
When: Several hours after the attack has been repelled/Day 1
What: THE ROSETTE IS DRIVING HOW CAN THIS BE?
Warnings: Nuns with guns

Rosette has through dubious means acquired both a vehicle and a license. It would make sense in the celebratory mood and the heavy congestion of militia and soldiers returning from their victory and civilians leaving their shelter that traffic would get a bit touchy.

More than a bit touchy.

In fact, it only took one person getting tired of how slowly their nice, computer operated car was going to crash into three other vehicles in an unusual fit of road rage.

Maybe you're in the next car over with friends, maybe you're just leaving the market, maybe you're standing by or floating over traffic with your magical floaty powers. And then there's Rosette. How does Rosette react to the traffic jam? STOMP HER WAY UP ON TOP OF SOMEONE ELSE'S CAR TO YELL AT OTHER PEOPLE NEW YORK STYLE.

"JUST MOVE! THERE'S SPACE RIGHT THERE! ARRG ARE YOU BLIND!" She stomps on the roof of the car she's standing on. Probably your roof.

((OOC NOTE: This is after infection but before anyone knows what is going on! Enjoy your new temperament in a traffic jam.

Prose and fast tagging both welcome and responded in kind!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Rosette had been in an argument with the poor soul in front of her, bartering as if the cars were really nothing more than vegetables at the market.

Poor vegetables, by the sound of Rosette's scorn. It's actually a bit amazing that she DID hear the chirp, but so unlike the mechanical and organic sounds gathering around them, it filtered through. Rosette looks up, squinting at the crowd... and does a double take at the absolutely enormous form standing sullenly on the walkway.

She beams and leaps off the car, taking the now traffic choked road in quick bounds.

"FRANC!" Behind her, someone yells at her to return.

There was a small possibility that he just made matters worse. Well, he could not care at this point. Or perhaps he could. Hearing Rosette made him start to feel for a moment that he was beginning to return to normal. When he lifted his hand up, those thoughts were soon put to rest. He did not have the energy to do more than wave at her. She was here, too. Should he be worried or glad? He could not feel either.

Someone was yelling. He looked behind her and at the chaos she left.

He gets a hug anyway. Her arms certainly don't go all the way around him, and it's quite possible that little sensation gets through the hard shell but she's gonna do it anyway.

"When did you get in! Did you just wake up? How many of us got yanked out over here...?"

He lifted his arms and for a moment, he just stood still while she hugged him. He should have felt something, not just physically, but emotionally. Yet there was nothing, even after he gently hugged her in return. Her kindness always warmed his heart. Why could he not feel anything now?

He nodded and along with it came a chirp that tapered off into a solemn hum. He did not remember falling asleep yet here he was. It had been a long first day and after those terrible noises, everything seemed to slow to a crawl. He was not sure this day would ever end.

She pulls back, hearing the tone from her friend. She rocks back on her heels and smiles, sympathetically. "... I bet you wanted to get home, huh."

Slowly, his face became more expressive and he felt an ache in his heart. His eyes and mouth folded into a frown as he woefully chirped. He had thought it was all over, too. Home was so close, only a step away. It felt far too long then, just how much longer did he have to wait here?

And Rosette, what was she doing here? What started as a spark of emotion soon grew into an uncontrollable flurry. He felt happy to see her again, more than happy; he wanted to dance with joy. Yet just as soon as it came, the furious shouts of those left in the wreck washed him over with crippling fear. Why, they should get away from here!

He shrank back like a frightened animal, but he would not leave Rosette. Where should they go? He looked at her.

"Ah! Right..." That was... a messy situation. A messy, expensive situation. A messy expensive situation that there were sirens approaching ... Between that and Franc's sudden cowering, the decision was made.

"This way!" She tugs at his suit sleeve, starting (quickly) towards the market. With aliens of all shapes and sizes, even he wasn't likely to stand out that much.

Just how well could a sharply dressed mutant flea blend in with them? Especially with that long, blue scarf trailing behind him. Hopefully they would not find the answer to that in the worst way. He followed close to her. He constantly looked behind in such an obvious way to see if anyone was following them.

His mandibles twitched as he nervously chittered.