Poughkeepsie Attacks!!!: Team Smith Brothers

[gone_byebye]

The Smith Brothers were once upon a time considered the Beards Who Made Poughkeepsie Famous. In many a world, their old factory has long since shut down and their product is now manufactured in Chicago. Not so here; the same factory continues to operate, churning out lozenges by the gross.

Or they do during the day, anyway. Tonight the place is crawling with security. Who knew that non-prescription cough drops needed so many guardians?

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[gone_byebye]

There's a very quiet "WHURF" from Francis, and the yellow eye-light blinks on and off for a moment. The dog rears up on its hind legs and attempts to nose at one of the radios that Ray made sure everyone had.

A moment later there's a whispered, "Hey, guys? This is Ecto. I can ask Francis to find you something?" over the radio.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

Tilda beams at the robot dog, and says quietly back, "That would be extremely convenient, Ecto, thank you."

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew adds a whispered thanks as Francis trots off, and hunkers down by the shrubbery they're using as cover.*

You see the water tower up there? I'm thinking try and set us down near that.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

"Yes."

Matilda peers at it.

"It seems like a reasonable destination. Oh, I do so wish I'd brought my binoculars. Being able to see the area in greater detail would be quite useful at this stage, but I packed for offensive power, not reconnaissance capability."

This translates to 'I brought lots of things that explode and very few things that do anything else'.

[gone_byebye]

There's a sound of takka-takka-takka from somewhere in the shadows, and a bit later Francis arrives, head held as high as the neck mechanisms can manage and a sizable square of sheet metal hanging from the magnet in his chin.

Apparently, it's election season in Poughkeepsie. The Democratic candidate for sheriff is going to wonder what happened to that.

[stilljustandrew]

Thanks, Francis. Okay, this'll work -- wait, hang on.

*Andrew frowns at the sign in thought, reaching out to turn the square of metal back and forth.*

It could be kind of eye-catching.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

Watch Matilda ponder. Ponder, Matilda, ponder.

"Well, if we sit on the side that says DONNER FOR SHERIFF-- ooh, hang on."

The shapeless grey bag comes off her shoulder, and she starts rooting through it. Carefully. A few loose sheets of notebook paper (Pascal's Triangle in base twenty-eight, a passable translation of the Canterbury Tales' General Prologue into Latin, and a sketch of the chemical composition of caffeine) drift to the ground before she finds what she's looking for.

"We can use this to cover up the other side," she says triumphantly, pulling out a large roll of black duct tape and a medium-sized pad of construction paper (also black). The top sheet has writing on it in blue chalk (Aurebesh letters, Russian words), but the back is just as dark as the rest of them. "Goodness, I'd nearly forgotten about that. Here, care to help?"

Matilda hands Andrew the duct tape and starts lining up rectangles of construction paper in neat, orderly rows across the metal back of the sign.

[stilljustandrew]

Smart thinking.

*Andrew starts carefully tearing pieces of duct tape, pausing to glance up over the shrubbery. The security types don't appear to have noticed them yet.*

Francis, can you stand guard and nudge me or something if anyone starts heading in this direction?

[gone_byebye]

The dog's front end bobs up and down briefly in something like a play-bow, but he then trots a few paces away to stand guard, his yellow eye-light dimmed to a less noticeable level.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

"Right."

It doesn't take long until the sign is nicely backed in construction paper and duct tape. Matilda puts the roll and the depleted remains of the pad back in her bag, tucks in the fallen notebook pages on top, and zips the whole thing shut. Again, carefully. There are some brown paper packages in there she'd really rather not disturb.

"A trial run, I think - if you'd care to stand on the sign?"

She lays it gently on the ground, construction side down, and steps onto the letter D. Six-year-olds, thankfully, do not take up terribly much space - though that bag, she quickly discovers, should probably be put on the shoulder that faces out of the square. Less optimal for weight distribution, but it allows Andrew to actually fit.

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew studies the sign for a moment, and steps onto the double-F at the opposite corner. His foot covers most of the word.*

We're gonna have to sort of hold on to each other. And I'm thinking stay low, too, to lower our wind resistance and our visibility.

*Suiting action to word, he crouches down and holds out an arm to her.*

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

"That's reasonable," she agrees, and suits actions to words by crouching beside him and huddling close, her small hands gripping the edge of the sign.

(up sign, down ground, up sign, down ground, come on, there we go, lift lift lift, sink sink sink--)

It's slow and wobbly at first, but Tilda's a quick learner. Soon they're hovering steadily about three feet off the ground as she waits for him to give Francis his orders regarding distraction of the security force.

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew's got one arm around her, half-protective, half to maintain balance as he leans forward to speak to Francis.*

Okay, boy -- go make some noise. Make them think you're serious about trying to get in.

Do I need to tell you not to hurt anyone if you can help it?

[gone_byebye]

Francis turns around and blinks his eyelight at Andrew a couple of times. What that means is anybody's guess, but he turns again, backs up a few paces, and charges towards the gates.

"WHURF WHURF WHURF WHURF WHURF," is the last thing the robot dog says before the pattern of its limbs change and it leaps.

Francis was a hunter-seeker once, after all. He was designed for the chase and the neutralization- not the kill, the neutralization- of enemies of the Librian state. Sometimes, that meant getting over obstacles.

There's shortly going to be an awful lot of angry, poorly trained men running around the Smith Brothers property trying to catch up with a dog that can do thirty miles an hour in its sleep.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

Matilda is highly entertained by this.

She'd be much more so if she didn't have to stare intently at the edge of the sign.

"I'll need you to keep an eye out horizontally and tell me if I get off course," she tells Andrew, blinking (which causes a momentary, barely perceptible wobble). "I have to maintain eye contact to keep us in the air."

And with that, off they go - rising steadily and gliding in the direction of the factory roof. When they pass over the fence that surrounds the property, it's close enough that Andrew could probably reach out and touch it if he were foolish enough to let go of Tilda or their impromptu hovercraft for the purpose.

[stilljustandrew]

Little higher if you can. *He's barely breathing the words.*

*Below them there are already men starting to run -- not, Andrew is unsurprised to see, all of them, and not in a mob; discipline is holding. For the moment.*

Left a bit.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

They rise a few feet and turn, very slightly, to Andrew's left.

This is difficult. Every time she blinks she has to 'catch' them again afterwards.

Luckily, Matilda has plenty of practice staring unblinking at the same spot for extended periods of time. They only wobble twice more before they're close enough to the roof that it's in her peripheral vision.

[gone_byebye]

The rooftop is generally well tended and clean, for a rooftop. It's the sort of place the occasional employee goes for a smoke break, but only the very occasional employee. It's too easily seen to be really practical as a hideaway.

Of course, right now it's dark and the guards are about half divided between chasing the robotic dog and phoning in the incident to somebody, although they have varying opinions as to who. Not that it can be told from up here. The important thing is that no one is really looking at the rooftop as Matilda brings them into jump-down or landing range.

[stilljustandrew]

*Landing is definitely preferable -- quieter as well as safer. Andrew waits till their makeshift skyraft is settled before straightening up and stepping off.*

*Instead of saying anything, he raises one finger to his lips and gestures purposefully at the door with his other hand.*

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

Matilda nods, taking the time to flip the sign over so that its stealthy side is up before moving to check if the door is locked. Hey, it might get seen from the air. Who knows.

The door isn't locked. With a shrug, she opens it. Somewhat gingerly, yes, because it's possible it might be rigged to set off an alarm of some kind, but the only other option she can see is standing around on the roof waiting for Something To Happen.

[gone_byebye]

There is no alarm, no.

There's just a bit of scuffing of a patch of floor as the not-quite-even bottom edge of the door scrapes across a crudely drawn design on the floor, placed there some time ago by the enterprising fellows who're at work down among the vats and tubes and hoppers. Something in the air shimmers in response, and swells, and cascading arcs of PKE silently lift from the ground floor and twine themselves around the equipment in the factory.

... Andrew and Tilda might very well be able to see some of that going on as they peer over the catwalk into the factory. They'll definitely be able to see the greater runic circle down below, the one that was in the process of being completed by two not-quite-clued-in men consulting several sheets of paper.

[stilljustandrew]

Oh, frell, we just set off a tripwire circle.

*Except the men below don't seem to be noticing. Too focused on the ... *

*... the other circle.*

Thaaaat's not good.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

...See icon.

"Define not good," she says around the oopsface.

[stilljustandrew]

Not the tripwire one, that one --

*He points.*

It's a power-circle, it's supposed to divert energy along particular lines, like if you wanted to gather all the local ambient energy towards one purpose? Except he hasn't got it grounded anywhere I can see -- that diagram looks like it would just send the mojo ricocheting in a totally random direction --

*His voice may be getting just a tiny bit louder.*

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

"...Will it stop working if I blow it up?" is the first question she thinks to ask, raising a finger to her lips at the same time because the last thing they need is for both of them to attract attention needlessly.