09-27-2018, 03:44 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-06-2018, 02:34 AM by Nika Raskov.)
Amelia Pond all but skipped down the street. Short green tendrils of hair splayed outward and up from underneath her floppy striped watch cap to hover an inch above her shoulders. Her puffy but not too puffy jacket was a brilliant blue number that brought out the color of her eyes. Well, fake eyes. Blue was Pond's color. The jacket also served to conceal a little insurance she could make do without but would rather not in her current physical state. That state being less than 100%. Tree-climbing pants were comfortable in cut but not thuggishly so and her flashing-light, retro high-tops completed her youthful ensemble. She was but a kid again.
Nika’d been dutifully attending her PT sessions and laser therapy and and; following orders and receiving treatment from the very best doctors and specialists Ducati threw at her. All to get back to top form. So her shoulder hadn’t needed surgery after all which was awesome but it was still a little sore and tender from that afternoon’s manipulations so she wore her satchel off the other side. It was really her wrist that was the problem. A fairly technical procedure had been necessary to knit the bones back together and another operation had seen to the damaged nerves in her fingers. As this was all recent she sported a cortex exoskeleton cast which encased her forearm all the way up to include the two littlest fingers that had nearly been rubbed into extinction by the asphalt. Thankfully the digits were covered with biowrap because they were still nasty-looking. All that to say she was a little protective of that arm and carried it resting atop the bag slung across her body. People were always walking with their eyes glued to their wallets and not looking where they were going. Then there was the fact that she looked as if she’d gone a few rounds with someone beefy and lost. So no improvement to her looks there. But whatever, at least she still had all her teeth.
It was nearly closing time for the stand vendors but she’d needed to get out and breathe air that wasn’t sterile and laced with pretension. At her first stop she'd picked up the new Army of T.W.O.: Days of Yore video game and the latest edition of her favorite comic book. Really though, she’d been staring at her orchard wall and had had a craving for apples. And peanut butter. Mmm. There was a place she frequented, more of a little alley really, that had the best green apples known to man. Or to her. Who really cared about man? The place she preferred was owned by a grandmother who’d lost her daughter and was left with her grandkid, a spunky little imp called Anna. Pond heard the kid crying before she even got to the alley and was right on top of things. Good moods should be shared, right? Plus the kid reminded her of the girl from Annie...the first one.
She grabbed a tawny butternut squash in her good hand, came up behind the screaming child and began singing to it in a deep voice; “Reindeers are better than people...Sven don’t you think that’s true?” Then Pond changed pitch to something goofier and out of the side of her mouth she sang, moving the gord as though the lines came from it. “Yeah, people will beat you and curse you and cheat you. Every one of them’s bad...except you.” The girl’s crying diminished after a few parting sobs and a hiccup or two. Excited but watery eyes turned toward her. Amelia smiled brightly at the girl. “Oh, thanks buddy.” She continued in the deeper voice. “But people smell better than reindeers.” She sniffed the thing in her hand and made a face, the girl giggled. “Sven, don’t you think I’m right?” The goofy retort: “That’s once again true, for all except you!” The girl giggled. “You got me, let’s call it a night.” Amelia looked at the child expectantly. The girl remembered her line and nailed it. ‘Good night.’ Behind the girl the stand’s elder occupant mimed hanging herself. Pond winked at her. “Don’t let the frostbite bite.”
Pond knelt and held out the squash, stem-first like it was the reindeer’s nose. “Sven missed you.” The girl, who was about five, clutched the gord before abruptly catapulting herself forward for a hug. 'AMY!' Nika barely got her arm out of the way in time. Scrawny arms and legs latched onto her. “Easy string bean, ugh. What mutant toxins have you been drinking?” The silver-haired vendor interjected. “She drank all of my coffee and then demanded more, that’s what. You were a party to the aftereffect of her least-favorite word.” Amelia stood and hefted the girl onto her hip, tilting her head to better regard her charge. “Have you anything to say in your defense?” Anna’s eyes widened as though caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Nika raised an expectant brow. ‘I’m sorry?’ Nika’s expression said she was less than convinced. “Either you’re sorry or you aren’t.” The girl grew serious. ‘I am!’ “Well don’t tell me.” The little thing turned her head to face her grandmother. ‘I’m sorry, Nana.’ The woman smiled. “I forgive you, button.” Ha, button. That was intolerably cute. Wait. “What kind of button?” the assassin inquired. The elder smiled mischievously. 'Depends on the hour.' Nika laughed.
The girl interjected, 'What happened to your face?' It was Pond’s turn to look spotlit. Err...“Took a bit of a tumble.” She waited to see if that would stick. The girl peered at her for a long moment. 'It was your shoelaces, huh? I’m always tripping over mine. You have to tie them into knots or ask a grownup to help.' Whew. “I will take that under advisement.” The kid motored on. ‘Where have you been?’ Nika shrugged, forgetting. Ow. Damn it. “I still had apples.” The girl peered at the bruises. ‘Now you’re back?’ Nika looked at her. “I ran out of apples.” A satisfactory answer, apparently. 'Does it hurt?' She frowned briefly. “A little.” The girl huffed. 'Are you taking your medicines?' Pond made a dismissive face and scoffed. “No.” Behind the kid’s back her grandmother’s eyes all but popped from of her head and she threw her hands up in an -are-you-kidding-me?!- gesture. Catching it immediately, Amelia retracted her answer almost as fast; “Of course I’m taking my medicine!” AH! ‘You just said no,’ the girl responded flatly. “I was thinking about something else,” Nika evaded. Wee girl played with her jacket zipper. ‘I do that too.’ The assassin grinned.
‘Oh hey!’ Anna pointed to the bit of cast she could see. ‘What’s that?’ “Wanna see? I’ll need to put you down.” The girl agreed and Nika knelt down again, pulling up her coat sleeve. “It’s an exo-cast.” Anna’s eyes were wide. “It’s so pretty. Can i touch it?” Her grandmother peered over the display, eyes widening at the still-pink lines from surgery and chimed in quickly. “Anna, be careful. Amy’s hurt.” The kid’s face morphed into concern, eyes as big as saucers. 'Does it hurt bad?' Nika looked at the girl, briefly wondering what it would feel like to have someone in her life that cared about her again. Thought dismissed just as quickly, her answer was honest enough. “It’ll get better.” She held out her arm for inspection. The girl traced a finger along the interlocking honeycomb-shapes that formed the skeletal structure. ‘It’s very clean. If I had one it would be dirty already.’ Nika laughed. “You can wash it if it gets dirty.” The little girl was excited about that. ‘Do they make colors?’ She frowned. “I dunno, all the ones I’ve had so far have been white.” Anna ran a hand gently back and forth over the cast. ‘Are you getting another one? You could ask for blue.’ Amelia nodded. “I’ll ask. Blue?” The kid nodded. ‘It’s the best color.’ Pond just agreed as she personally did not have a favorite color. “I gotta go.” She caught the vendor’s eye and held up thumb, index and middle fingers. Nana selected three apples. ‘No!’ The whine started. “Princesses don’t whine,” Amelia said matter-of-factly. ‘You said we’d sing!’ Amelia raised her brow. “Have you been practicing?” The grandmother snorted loudly and piped up. 'It’s all she does day and night any time she’s home; play that infernal video. I’m at the point where it’s headphones only now and I haven’t gotten to watch the news in a month!' The woman flailed her arms. Nika tried very hard to keep a straight face but an errant giggle escaped her tightly compressed lips. Nana was hardly amused. ‘She sings that...song...constantly.’ The woman’s eyes bugged out and her whisper morphed into a hiss as the girl twirled and hummed to herself in the alley. ‘I broke her music streamer on purpose!’ Amelia shook with silent laughter. ‘So you will sing with her or so help me...’ the woman shook her finger. ‘...I’ll have you killed.’ That threat did elicit outright laughter. “Oh fine.” Amelia called out to the kid. “What do you want to sing, porkchop?” The girl squealed her answer and the other vendors, who had been hiding smirks and snickers at Nana’s ranting, quieted their sweeping and stacking and nightly duties to listen. Nika had a great voice and was no stranger to this little alley as it had fantastic acoustics. The kid was...more of a yeller. Still it was a great show and yeah, she could hit the high note just fine.
‘Let it Go’ was still swirling around in her mind as she crunched on an apple. Pond’s stroll toward home took her beyond the market from lamp halo to lamp halo and through a sprawling but quaint park where it was not uncommon to occasionally hear gunshots or yelling or other sounds of the city at night. She was pretty well covered unless a lucky shot found her head and then it wouldn’t matter really, being dead and all. The weapon discharged near enough that she stopped in a patch of shadow and listened for either a breathy retreat of the guilty or the righteous puffs of pursuit. Sirens keyed up in the distance. Her path meandered over a footbridge cleverly constructed to hide the eyesore of a cement drainage runoff. There were faint sounds off to her right. Below? 2 o’clock. One one-thousand. Scraping. Barely there. Two one-thousand. Nika cast a glance around and through a chance gap in the foliage...a light bobbed from the ditch. Why? Who cares? Not your job. Ugh! FINE. Someday stupid shit like this is going to get you killed.
A silent call through the waves diverted BB from standby. She padded over to the grass, flashy shoes off since the market, and disappeared into the darkness. Goggles for seeing at night were donned. The drop negotiated lithely. What’s up, buttercup?
Nika’d been dutifully attending her PT sessions and laser therapy and and; following orders and receiving treatment from the very best doctors and specialists Ducati threw at her. All to get back to top form. So her shoulder hadn’t needed surgery after all which was awesome but it was still a little sore and tender from that afternoon’s manipulations so she wore her satchel off the other side. It was really her wrist that was the problem. A fairly technical procedure had been necessary to knit the bones back together and another operation had seen to the damaged nerves in her fingers. As this was all recent she sported a cortex exoskeleton cast which encased her forearm all the way up to include the two littlest fingers that had nearly been rubbed into extinction by the asphalt. Thankfully the digits were covered with biowrap because they were still nasty-looking. All that to say she was a little protective of that arm and carried it resting atop the bag slung across her body. People were always walking with their eyes glued to their wallets and not looking where they were going. Then there was the fact that she looked as if she’d gone a few rounds with someone beefy and lost. So no improvement to her looks there. But whatever, at least she still had all her teeth.
It was nearly closing time for the stand vendors but she’d needed to get out and breathe air that wasn’t sterile and laced with pretension. At her first stop she'd picked up the new Army of T.W.O.: Days of Yore video game and the latest edition of her favorite comic book. Really though, she’d been staring at her orchard wall and had had a craving for apples. And peanut butter. Mmm. There was a place she frequented, more of a little alley really, that had the best green apples known to man. Or to her. Who really cared about man? The place she preferred was owned by a grandmother who’d lost her daughter and was left with her grandkid, a spunky little imp called Anna. Pond heard the kid crying before she even got to the alley and was right on top of things. Good moods should be shared, right? Plus the kid reminded her of the girl from Annie...the first one.
She grabbed a tawny butternut squash in her good hand, came up behind the screaming child and began singing to it in a deep voice; “Reindeers are better than people...Sven don’t you think that’s true?” Then Pond changed pitch to something goofier and out of the side of her mouth she sang, moving the gord as though the lines came from it. “Yeah, people will beat you and curse you and cheat you. Every one of them’s bad...except you.” The girl’s crying diminished after a few parting sobs and a hiccup or two. Excited but watery eyes turned toward her. Amelia smiled brightly at the girl. “Oh, thanks buddy.” She continued in the deeper voice. “But people smell better than reindeers.” She sniffed the thing in her hand and made a face, the girl giggled. “Sven, don’t you think I’m right?” The goofy retort: “That’s once again true, for all except you!” The girl giggled. “You got me, let’s call it a night.” Amelia looked at the child expectantly. The girl remembered her line and nailed it. ‘Good night.’ Behind the girl the stand’s elder occupant mimed hanging herself. Pond winked at her. “Don’t let the frostbite bite.”
Pond knelt and held out the squash, stem-first like it was the reindeer’s nose. “Sven missed you.” The girl, who was about five, clutched the gord before abruptly catapulting herself forward for a hug. 'AMY!' Nika barely got her arm out of the way in time. Scrawny arms and legs latched onto her. “Easy string bean, ugh. What mutant toxins have you been drinking?” The silver-haired vendor interjected. “She drank all of my coffee and then demanded more, that’s what. You were a party to the aftereffect of her least-favorite word.” Amelia stood and hefted the girl onto her hip, tilting her head to better regard her charge. “Have you anything to say in your defense?” Anna’s eyes widened as though caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Nika raised an expectant brow. ‘I’m sorry?’ Nika’s expression said she was less than convinced. “Either you’re sorry or you aren’t.” The girl grew serious. ‘I am!’ “Well don’t tell me.” The little thing turned her head to face her grandmother. ‘I’m sorry, Nana.’ The woman smiled. “I forgive you, button.” Ha, button. That was intolerably cute. Wait. “What kind of button?” the assassin inquired. The elder smiled mischievously. 'Depends on the hour.' Nika laughed.
The girl interjected, 'What happened to your face?' It was Pond’s turn to look spotlit. Err...“Took a bit of a tumble.” She waited to see if that would stick. The girl peered at her for a long moment. 'It was your shoelaces, huh? I’m always tripping over mine. You have to tie them into knots or ask a grownup to help.' Whew. “I will take that under advisement.” The kid motored on. ‘Where have you been?’ Nika shrugged, forgetting. Ow. Damn it. “I still had apples.” The girl peered at the bruises. ‘Now you’re back?’ Nika looked at her. “I ran out of apples.” A satisfactory answer, apparently. 'Does it hurt?' She frowned briefly. “A little.” The girl huffed. 'Are you taking your medicines?' Pond made a dismissive face and scoffed. “No.” Behind the kid’s back her grandmother’s eyes all but popped from of her head and she threw her hands up in an -are-you-kidding-me?!- gesture. Catching it immediately, Amelia retracted her answer almost as fast; “Of course I’m taking my medicine!” AH! ‘You just said no,’ the girl responded flatly. “I was thinking about something else,” Nika evaded. Wee girl played with her jacket zipper. ‘I do that too.’ The assassin grinned.
‘Oh hey!’ Anna pointed to the bit of cast she could see. ‘What’s that?’ “Wanna see? I’ll need to put you down.” The girl agreed and Nika knelt down again, pulling up her coat sleeve. “It’s an exo-cast.” Anna’s eyes were wide. “It’s so pretty. Can i touch it?” Her grandmother peered over the display, eyes widening at the still-pink lines from surgery and chimed in quickly. “Anna, be careful. Amy’s hurt.” The kid’s face morphed into concern, eyes as big as saucers. 'Does it hurt bad?' Nika looked at the girl, briefly wondering what it would feel like to have someone in her life that cared about her again. Thought dismissed just as quickly, her answer was honest enough. “It’ll get better.” She held out her arm for inspection. The girl traced a finger along the interlocking honeycomb-shapes that formed the skeletal structure. ‘It’s very clean. If I had one it would be dirty already.’ Nika laughed. “You can wash it if it gets dirty.” The little girl was excited about that. ‘Do they make colors?’ She frowned. “I dunno, all the ones I’ve had so far have been white.” Anna ran a hand gently back and forth over the cast. ‘Are you getting another one? You could ask for blue.’ Amelia nodded. “I’ll ask. Blue?” The kid nodded. ‘It’s the best color.’ Pond just agreed as she personally did not have a favorite color. “I gotta go.” She caught the vendor’s eye and held up thumb, index and middle fingers. Nana selected three apples. ‘No!’ The whine started. “Princesses don’t whine,” Amelia said matter-of-factly. ‘You said we’d sing!’ Amelia raised her brow. “Have you been practicing?” The grandmother snorted loudly and piped up. 'It’s all she does day and night any time she’s home; play that infernal video. I’m at the point where it’s headphones only now and I haven’t gotten to watch the news in a month!' The woman flailed her arms. Nika tried very hard to keep a straight face but an errant giggle escaped her tightly compressed lips. Nana was hardly amused. ‘She sings that...song...constantly.’ The woman’s eyes bugged out and her whisper morphed into a hiss as the girl twirled and hummed to herself in the alley. ‘I broke her music streamer on purpose!’ Amelia shook with silent laughter. ‘So you will sing with her or so help me...’ the woman shook her finger. ‘...I’ll have you killed.’ That threat did elicit outright laughter. “Oh fine.” Amelia called out to the kid. “What do you want to sing, porkchop?” The girl squealed her answer and the other vendors, who had been hiding smirks and snickers at Nana’s ranting, quieted their sweeping and stacking and nightly duties to listen. Nika had a great voice and was no stranger to this little alley as it had fantastic acoustics. The kid was...more of a yeller. Still it was a great show and yeah, she could hit the high note just fine.
‘Let it Go’ was still swirling around in her mind as she crunched on an apple. Pond’s stroll toward home took her beyond the market from lamp halo to lamp halo and through a sprawling but quaint park where it was not uncommon to occasionally hear gunshots or yelling or other sounds of the city at night. She was pretty well covered unless a lucky shot found her head and then it wouldn’t matter really, being dead and all. The weapon discharged near enough that she stopped in a patch of shadow and listened for either a breathy retreat of the guilty or the righteous puffs of pursuit. Sirens keyed up in the distance. Her path meandered over a footbridge cleverly constructed to hide the eyesore of a cement drainage runoff. There were faint sounds off to her right. Below? 2 o’clock. One one-thousand. Scraping. Barely there. Two one-thousand. Nika cast a glance around and through a chance gap in the foliage...a light bobbed from the ditch. Why? Who cares? Not your job. Ugh! FINE. Someday stupid shit like this is going to get you killed.
A silent call through the waves diverted BB from standby. She padded over to the grass, flashy shoes off since the market, and disappeared into the darkness. Goggles for seeing at night were donned. The drop negotiated lithely. What’s up, buttercup?