Aug 02 05:30:01 105 PA

From Chronicles

tiamat_riftsLog Entitled: Zen and The Art of Not Crashing Location: Kingsdale - Plaza Park The current game time is: Sun Aug 02 05:30:01 105 PA. Players: Eliza, Minnie, Faris

..... and given that it is only half a hundred yards and maybe ten minutes since the episode in the graveyard Eliza is still looking very tired. And now she has a dubious cast to her face as she walks looking at her companion with pursed lips. "So is this really a good idea? What did you mean by bars? You don't want me to actually ride on the handlebars do you?"

Minnie is pushing along with all her might and main, turning up sod until she gets the wheels onto the center lane and up alongside the other girl. The two Japanese men who may be zombies, or may be rogue scholars - either way it amounts to the same thing: crashingly dull! - are left to their fates of idly wondering why three such excitable girls were roaming the tombs by night. The blonde girl casts a sidelong glance to Eliza's hindquarters, as though to seriously assess the question, and declares, "Can be done. You're tired? S'a long walk back th'Budgie, s'all."

And they might just be annoying as all get out too and too much for Eliza's tired brain to handle right now. Then again, maybe she just needs her next dose. Her eyes are still very dubvious but she is seriously considering it. It IS a long way back. "S'a budgie?" Her voice asks, and then her lack of social ettiquette rears its ugly head. "You were talkin' a little funny other day. How come you lisp like that? Always do it?" Her face is soft enough to reveal even in the dark it is curiosity speaking. "And I guess we can try this. I've had worse than a little sprawl." She too, seriously considers how well her hips will fit.

As they approaches the gateway separating graveyard and park, they are afforded a high vantage of the grounds, and the ability to count almost every old crater that pockmarks the otherwise natural landscape. The lateness of the hour dictates that this side of the gate would be largely deserted as well; however, there is a small collection of loiterers gathered yonder by the main street. A flash of steel in the light rain, a snatch of laughter caught by the wind.

"Won't sprawl," asserts Minnie quietly and with a frown, and if her tone is a bit off, it's due to her making an extra effort to keep from saying 'thprawl'. "'Less y'weigh lots more than y'look, even 'countin' for th'metalworks." She and Eliza are, of course, the ones upon the overlooking slope leading into the graveyard. The shorter girl stops short of the incline so she can throw one leg over the top tube of her mountain bike, bracing then with her runners in the soil and her straightarmed grip on the handlebars. Ready for Eliza to hop on up. It would perhaps have been a wiser decision to wait until they had reached the bottom of said slope before attempting this. But. Well, you know. "Oh...and, th'Budgie. Cheap, cheap?" Minnie adds as an afterthought.

Eliza inclines her head and her eyes are apologetic. "Didn't mean t'make you feel self conscious. Everyone's got somethin'. Look at me. I ain't got no hands and I eat chems like candy." Waiting for Minnie to get herself situated she steps back and then settles her hind end downwards onto the handlebars. She at least makes a token effort not to sit directly on Minnie's hands or her brake levers. Her eyes have not caught sight of the gaggle at the gate and her attention is all on where to put her feet. She awkwardly lets the heels of her boots touch the wheel's bolts and her hands reach back; cold metal briefly grabbing both of Minnie's wrists as she recovers her balance and puts her best trust in her.

Off of main street, and into the park comes walking Faris, his eyes narrowing just a hint as he scans about, his nostrils flaring just a touch as he begins slowly walking the path further into the park.

Flickering up and down to catch and study Eliza's movements, the balancing weights of her body's structure, the apparent center of gravity on that long figure, are Minnie's eyes. The hazel gaze in its deeply smudged kohl liner seems to ebb and flow in a sort of zen trance, reflecting a veritable tizzy of mental calculation. Her wrists are steely hard with set tendons, keeping firm control on the steering of the bike and giving minute tilts and nudges to test the resistance caused by Eliza's added weight. All of this occurring in the time it takes the merc femme to get settled and more or less poised on display. "Can't help the lithp," she murmurs up to Eliza's shoulderblades, her breath tickling as she exhales once, then says on the next breath intake, "This - I can do." Her levering foot then pushes off the dirt path decisively, and she slides her rump up and back into the saddle, immediately leaning her weight back and starting to pump the pedals to get the construct of steel tubes, tense spokes and rims, and rucked rubber wheels gliding along the downslope at a steadily increasing clip.

Eliza is more than slightly uncomfortable. The reason is that deep in her sordid little heart she is a control freak and has trust issues. And boy is this one of them. It doesn't take her but twenty feet to have her hands back on her pilot-to-be's wrists and a mildly uncomfortable look comes to her as she is borne down hill. She talks too, in an effort to loosen up. "Where's your boy? Wasn't he with you? And, um. What do you do for fun? Do you want to come to the range with me tomorrow?" Now she's (a little desperatly) scanning the path ahead. "Someone there." She says as she sees Faris. Of course Minnie probably already knows.

Faris just so happens to be moving on his direction of graveyard himself, and towards the oncoming bikers. His gaze does drift over the twosome on the bicycle, though it's only briefly as most of his attention seems focused off the path to the left, sniffing just a touch as he looks off that way.

The rain has slicked down the path with a thin layer of somewhat sucking mud, and the tires throw wave after wave of spackle onto their legs. What would have been a mild summer breeze under normal circumstances turns chill and whistling against their damp skin. The tame incline becomes a wet obstacle course of rocks and ruts, and still Minnie directs their rollicking passage with a single-minded directive: take Eliza home. Now if only she had enough mental capacity left add an 'alive and well' clause to that directive, things might have gone differently. "Yeah," she offers in response to the Faris Alert, having made a previous note of the Psi-Stalker's position and trajectory through the triangular space between Eliza's tensed left arm and her body. The bike hits leveled ground with a bump of its back tire, which dares to fishtail a few times. "S'okay, we're *fine*, we're *nifty*, we're *flyin'*," she chants to Eliza, with a shift of her grip over the bar in a passing attempt to transfer the other girl's hands to the bike parts rather than her wrists. She kinda needs those for maneuvering. "Dunno where Keith got to...s'been kinda leery of th'dead places lately."

Far be it for Eliza to release her handholds just because Minnie needs her own wrists and hands for manuvering. In fact, the farther the bike goes downhill the tighter the mercenary's grip becomes and by the time it levels out again it is white knuckle. Or at least it would be if she still had flesh and blood knuckles. But she squeezes and at each and every fishtail she squeezes again. "Fine." She repeats. "Nifty. Wonderful. Safe." Oh, this was not a good idea, Miss Eliza. A very bad idea. So she keeps talking. "Shooting. Range. Fun. Come. Want to." She oofs as a bad bump transfers the handlebars right into her tailbone. "Next time I'm drivin' you!"

Faris continues strolling along, his path bringing him closer and closer to the base of the hill the two ladies are hurtling down atop Minnie's bike, giving a slight hmmn to himself as he pauses. His attention now shifts towards the two fully, watching them come down.

Minnie's ponytail snaps sidelong with a whisk of scattering raindrops, as Minnie leans out to the right suddenly, and with a jerk of her hip leans the bike left for leverage. Where the hell did that powder-white baldy disappear to? her expression demands in a moment of paranoia. 'Cause when you're driving front-blind and lose track of a moving obstacle, chances are you'll be going over or through it, imminently. "Huhyup! Go shootin'? Why not!" she presently begins hollering back in answer to Eliza's halting remarks. "Gotta 'volver still packed't home, see'f't goes! Heads-up, whiteboy!" That last bit is yelped to Faris as she takes a curve around his position that's looking far too close for comfort. She even might clip him one with her rear tire as the bike skids away from her efforts at path-correction.

Why did Eliza agree with this? It is such an all-important question. Why, just why? The only thing that could make this worse if it was actually motor-powered rather than Minnie powered. Driven to silence by the precarious nature of her path and conveyance home she just sort of clenches her teeth and stares right ahead. Is that a yelp during one of those fishtails as she jabs fingers into Minnie's left wrist? She has to say something though to keep the conversation going. Either that or begin yelping every turn of the pedals. "Bring your boy, if you wan'. I think I'll talk Brutus out t'morrow. Introduce you to him. He's a great friend."

Faris moves to hop back, just a bit as the bike goes whizzing past him, a little closer then he'd actually bargained on, "Watch where you're going." He mutters a bit, though not overly loud, to the two females as they zip past.

Minnie looks chagrinned by the sound of the Stalker's voice in their wake; she may not have heard the exact words, but she can pretty much guess his meaning. Then a sense of rebellious satisfaction sinks in at the thought that her wheels most assuredly gave him some mud spatters up the pant legs. "Thomethin' t'member me by," she whispers with a secret smirk. Much louder, she says to Eliza, "Clear sailin' now. Y'can let go - carefully," and gives her wrists another pointed flex, "B'fore I lose all feelin'n'em." As if on cue, the bike makes an awkward turn onto the main path leading out to the park entrance, rides back onto the grass and up the precarious lip of a small, deep, water-filled crater, emanating with the croaking of frogs, then zags back down and onto the path again. All the while Minnie is fighting to retain control despite this particular handicap imposed by Eliza. It's only a matter of time before her strength and will give out and the two go spilling. With any luck it will happen just as the small knot of loiterers by the gate gets around to watching.

Eliza is feeling a little bit rebellious. It is a rare thing for Eliza but sometimes she just has to. "NEENER NEENER NEENER NEENER." She hears herself shout at Faris on the way by. Somewhere, that felt good too. What doesn't feel good is another bump and Minnie's insistence that she remove her hands. But, but, but. Carefully, with the contraption still in motion she shifts first one hand and then the other; holding on to the bike's bull horns instead. "What do y'need your hands for?" She asks Minnie; eyes peering out ahead of her. The gaggle now is seen. "More people. Y'should try not to hit these ones. And keep me out of the mud. And catch me a frog." Helpful!

Faris turns about as the two go zoooming on past, a little frown crossing his face as Minnie pedals on off down the path away from him, crowning a bit and he leans down, wiping off a bit of splattered mud from the tire from his leg.

"Shutit!" Minnie pipes up on the tail-end of Eliza's string of requests, feeling her concentration fraying....and fraying still further when the cadence of her exclamation plays back in her mind and bears immediate, absurd similarity to frog-speak. That's when the giggles attack. "Shutit! O frick...shutit! Ribbit! Ribbit!" she calls out in the midst of an uncontrollable snorking fit. The bike goes wobbling speedily towards the transfixed group of onlookers, with only Eliza paying attention at the helm.

Eliza senses disaster coming. It isn't the psionic power either. She can forsee exactly what is to come. They will miss the gate and collide with the wall at thirty miles an hour and they will be a small pancake and then they will get lulzed at. Yes, she can see it coming now. And to make matters worse her pilot is ribbiting. Ribbiting! Not paying attention to where they are going. Ribbiting! Sigh. Today, Eliza's strange sense of humor has proved to be her ultimate undoing; her cause of death! In an effort to stall the situation she coughs loudly. "People. Down. There. Open. Gate. Don't. Want. Die." She's sounding a little bit more insistant now. "Gate. Gate! People! People!"

Faris can maybe sense the impending doooom as well and he offers a twisted little grin as he moves back down the path to a better vantage point, hoping to see a good crash, maybe!

Minnie actually has the temerity to drop her head under the weight of the giggles, butting the crown of her blonde mane up into Eliza's spine, gently, as she tries desperately to regain some equilibrium. Right-right. People down there. Five, at last count. Five. Five greeeen, 'n' speckled frogs. "Glup..glup!" Her pixieish laughter spirals into the airy, screamy variety, but at least she's got her tear-streamed vision back, with her temple tucked against Eliza's ribs as she peers into the midst of the young adults.....and with a twist of her shoulders nudges the front tire into the gap they've created out of a collective sense of self-preservation. The almost-disaster insinuates itself around her heart and gives a few squeezes, and she allows the bike to sail beyond the gates, over the walkway, and into the street beyond.

One of the youths standing in the gaggle is a green-eyed, black-haired kid of middling height and expressive mannerisms. But all his facial muscles working in simultaneous overdrive cannot come up with an articulation to reflect half of what he's now feeling, upon seeing Minnie streaking right past him, shrieking in Frogese, with a crazy-eyed lady mounted on her bike-front like some hunting trophy, also yelping. His mouth just stays dropped open, eyelids fluttering in a minute series of tics, his hands still numbly curled around the handlebars of his forgotten ten-speed. Poor Keith. He just watches them go off down the street, every crazy swerve and bounce "his girl" takes with her strange passenger making him twitch anew.

Despite the expectation of being deposited into the gate or the mud, Eliza is still sort of enjoying this. It is a little bit exhilirating in a cheat death sort of way. And once she realizes that she isn't going to die it actually becomes a little bit enjoyable. Bracing herself against the bullhorns she wiggles a little to get more comfortable and adjust her mass so that she isn't going to sport a red handlebar line across her behind when she gets home. That would be unsightly. Not that anyone but Chaos is going to actually see it. And then there is the talk of frogs which leads her to come to a healthy conclusion: Minnie is just as crazy as her. Yes, she is going to have to keep this one. She even manages a little laugh. Brave Eliza, now that the bike is through the teeming mass. Does she recognize Keith? Maybe, and maybe not. But she does once again yell "NEENER NEENER NEEENER" as she goes by. Bless her heart, it's just so satisfying to do so. "That your boy?" She wants to know. "He has some pretty big eyes."

It just so happens that the motion causes Eliza to sort of bypass one of her typical problems. Given that Minnie's forehead is first against her shoulder blades, and then her temple against her ribs, she feels the old hedgehog urge coming up. Janus could tell her well of that. The urge to be prickly and raise quills. Afterall, no-touchy, thy name is Eliza. However... perhaps due to the speed, all that Minnie Driver will feel is a little twitch and a motion of her arm. And that is probably due to the road. Success, however!

Someone has touched the Eliza and lived to tell about it. What will she do now?

Perhaps a bit dissapointed that the two didn't crash messily into the gate, Faris turns away from the two as they zip off down onto the road and he starts walking off towards the graveyard once again!

"..Huh? Boy..?" Apparently, Minnie will now feign confusion. Though perhaps there's nothing feigned about it; the girl is, after all, a bit of an idiot when you come down to it. Except when it comes to wheels. Even now on this long stretch of main street, with all manner of rain puddles, posts, hydrants, pedestrians with yappy dogs, and road-grinding ATVs, standing defiantly between the young ladies and their threadbare homes...Minnie delivers. Cheerfully. Picking up the NEENER NEENER NEENER battlecry, she helps Eliza offend a good third of the nightlife before bringing them rain-drenched and wobbly-legged into the lobby of El Cheapo. Location:Kingsdale - Plaza Park Tags:eliza, faris, minnie