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?

Comments

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

So that's what he meant.

Tilda becomes very glad she zipped her bag back up after throwing that explosive.

She clings to Francis and twists her head to look back at Andrew - is he keeping up?

[stilljustandrew]

*For the moment, yes -- though he's also got his head twisted around to look back at the grounds they're hurriedly vacating.*

*It has occurred to him that right now, it looks an awful lot like the cough drop monster was their doing.*

[gone_byebye]

Yes. Yes it does.

And for ostensible rent-a-cops, these guys sure do carry enough firearms- which it looks like they know how to use...

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

Oh.

No.

No, that is not happening.

Matilda throws a confident, focused look at the ostensible rent-a-cops. Specifically, at the first gun she can see. She jerks her head sharply to the side, tearing it out of its owner's hands and flinging it several hundred feet to the left, then directs her attention to the next one with the aim of repeating the trick.

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew throws her an enthusiastic thumbs-up and keeps running, by now panting in his efforts to stay level with Francis.*

*Behind him, one guard yelps as he's hit with another guard's gun. A third guard manages to keep hold of his weapon, but considering that the gun is still hurtling into the trees and dragging him with it, he probably wishes he hadn't.*

[gone_byebye]

Really, only about half of these guards are real security guards. Most of the real ones are retired police officers. They know what they're doing, and what they're doing is trying not to get hit in the head with flying guns.

The fake ones are clutchignt heir hands and wishing they'd stayed in Illinois.

"WHURF WHURF WHURF WHURF WHURF WHURF WHURF..."

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

Right. No more guns. Well done, Tilda.

Andrew is not looking like he'll be keeping up with Francis for much longer. "Prepare to be carried," calls Matilda helpfully, and gets him in a much gentler telekinetic grip this time, skimming him along a decent distance above the ground at Francis-pace.

This means she isn't good for looking at much, of course, but by now she figures Andrew will probably have a handle on that part.

[stilljustandrew]

Thanks for the heads up!

*He means that. Because it means that he can twist around in midair (so he's now being carried backwards at Francis-pace), haul out his tranq gun, and take aim at anything that seems to be following them too closely.*

Francis, get us out of here.

[gone_byebye]

Francis was built as a hunter-seeker in the earliest days of Libria, when people still had private motor vehicles. His maximum top speed is around sixty miles an hour,a bit less when he's carrying weight.

"WHURF," he says, and throws himself into the task of reaching top speed.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

...This, Tilda decides, bringing Andrew close by in front and to the right, is fun.

One six-year-old telekinetic, clinging to Francis' back and giggling.

[stilljustandrew]

*He's hurtling backwards at roughly the speed of a car, they're rapidly outdistancing pursuit, the entire area they're leaving is covered in fruity-medicinal-smelling goo, and Matilda is giggling.*

*Under the circumstances, it's contagious.*

[gone_byebye]

Some of the guards are still running. Most of them have stopped and are staring.

One of them is saying "Screw it, I was gonna quit anyway," and pulling a flask out of his pocket. "Hey! Any of you guys want a snort?"

The goat sized cough drop monster is quietly gorbling towards the gate, but it's starting to lose heart.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

Tilda hears the gorbling over the rushing of wind in her ears and makes a mental note to blow up the cough drop monster more thoroughly when they get to safety and she can put Andrew down.

In the meantime?

She's a little too busy with those giggles.

[stilljustandrew]

*Safety is relative, but a quiet street out of sight of the factory grounds with no immediate pursuit will do just fine for now. Andrew settles to the ground, wobbles slightly, and steadies.*

Okay. The Ark definitely wasn't there, and whatever was has been pretty well broken up.

[precocioustilda.livejournal.com]

"Right."

She hops off of Francis and dusts herself off, taking a moment to rearrange her hair ribbon, which has gotten somewhat mussed. (Shh. Hair ribbons are totally stealthy.)

"I feel sort of bad for leaving them to deal with the cough-drop monster, but I suppose there's not much to be done about it by now. I think it's safe to say we've completed our mission."

Bright smile.

[gone_byebye]

There's a crackle of static on the radio Ray insisted everyone wear.

"Guys? This is Ecto. You'd better get up here ASAP."

[stilljustandrew]

Okay, Francis, you heard the lady -- Matilda, can I get a lift again?

*And they're off.*