You should listen to Navi DuBleu. (heyheylisten) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-11-10 01:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, navi, pete wisdom |
Who: Navi, Pete Wisdom, and some poor NPC mugger.
What: Navi realizes the dreams aren't entirely dream-like whilst being mugged.
When: Saturday evening, around dusk.
Where: Some shops near her home.
Rating: PG-13 for violence, allusions to sexuality.
Status: Complete!
She’d been out shopping for Christmas presents (because she knew that would happen before she knew it and Navi didn’t like being unprepared for anything) when she heard the footsteps behind her. It was odd - how could she hear footsteps at dusk on a fairly crowded street? But she heard them just the same. she tried to walk faster, weave a little bit through the crowd, but they were still there.
Dun dun DUNNN. Trailing behind her was a large man, with wide shoulders, poundy fists, and a shiny bald head. To make him slightly less intimidating but no less brick-wall-esque, the man had a few extra inches around his waistline, sunshine! He was keeping a good distance away, but had his eye on Navi, but far enough away that he could still veer off away, if she started to catch on.
Nope, just another guy wandering about, not paying you any mind, miss. Except he so IS, because his beady eyes are on her.
Which she could feel, feel like ice going down her spine. She wanted to run, to scream HEY!, to do anything. She was close to her house, close to Pete, so she opted to keep walking. But the further she got into a residential area, the thinner the crowd got. So she opted to duck down an alleyway. If she could get into an alley, she could buy five minutes to look for a weapon -
Wait, look for a weapon? Why would she do that? Navi was usually such a pacifist, but somehow she knew exactly what she needed to do. So she waited until an alley was in sight and ran, pedal to the metal, balls to the wall until she was inside of it. From there, she looked around for things to help save her. Okay, brick, check. Plank of wood was go too. She put the brick into her purse and held the wood like a bat, waiting to swing at the guy’s head as he came into the alley.
The man turned the corner into the alley and pulled out a gun, pointing it right at her. Because why mess with wood or rocks when there's bullets? In other words, this guy is a bastard fucktard crap monkey.
"Give me your purse, wallet, whatever you got, give it to me," the man told her, wagging the gun around dismissively like he might use it, he might not. It was hard to tell if he'd cross that fine line from wanting some money to bodily injury. He did look and sound serious, though. "Hurry up, bitch. I don't have all fucking day."
Okay, gun. Have to get the gun out of play then go for the knees and probably the eyes - And then Navi was a blur of movement, using the two by four like a Louisville Slugger, batting the gun out of the man’s hand. Then she swung backhanded toward his head, hoping to dizzy him long enough to get his knees good and broken.
And that was when she started screaming. “Fire! Fire! Oh god, everyone’s dying, fire!” Nobody would come to be a hero, but they’d sure as hell dial 911.
Ahh! Rampantly unexpected! Kapow! He saw stars. She wasn't supposed to fight back. The gun went flying, but so did the man's hand, in that way that girls - should they be in the receiving end - made girls wonder if boys were pulled aside and taught a backhanded pimp slap in grade school and had many years to perfect it.
He didn't wait to see if it made contact, but blindly groped out for anything resembling a purse or bag that he could see past all the stars and purple haze. Then he was trying to get the HELL out of there in case the fire department showed up.
It did make contact, sending Navi flying into the ground, hitting her head hard enough where her teeth snapped together and made her bite her tongue. But being on the ground had its uses. She reared back like an angry donkey, kicking at his left knee and grunting when she heard it make a satisfactory pop. When she could, she got to her knees, swinging her purse (with its additional brick) toward his other one. She was acting on instinct; when she looked at him, all she saw was weak points highlighted by swirling blue, almost as if her brain was showing her where to hit.
At that point the guy was in full WTF mode, falling to the ground when she made contact with his knee, and scrambling to his feet so he could limp out of the alley and run AWAY from the crazy lady. Ironic how now she was the crazy one when he was the one who tried to MUG HER, but that's what McDumbAss there was thinking as he hobbled and stagger ran as fas as he could. Which was not that fast, but he was juuuuuust smart enough to know when it was better to not be sticking around.
See ya! "STOP HITTING ME, LADY!" the guy said as he tried to get away, yelling as he went around the corner, "AHH RAPE! SHE'S INSANE! HELP SHE GROPED ME!!!"
Hi ho, hi ho, off he hobble goes!
Navi was breathing hard and she dropped the two by four, leaving it in the alley. She picked up the gun, though, dropping it back into her purse. Lucky for her she knew nobody would respond to yells of rape, much less from a man, so she teetered unsteadily away from the scene, hearing sirens as she opened the gate to her house.
She could feel the slow trickle of blood from the back of her head as she opened the door, calling out for Pete as she fell to her knees. Probably a concussion from when I hit the concrete.
Pete heard Navi call for him, but there was something a little different from their usual talking loudly from one end of the house to the other. So when he came out and saw Navi passed out on the floor, Pete went into emergency mode. He not only picked her up (carefully, after making sure she wasn't a gusher from any bullet wounds), put her in the car, and called the proper authorities to inform them that the missus met the business end of the beat stick and was going to have her injuries looked at, at the nearest emergency room.
Fun times. Vroom!
The next thing Navi knew she was awake in a hospital room with police asking her annoying questions. She answered them, let them know the man’s gun was in her purse and yes, she’d picked it up with her shirt as to not leave fingerprints, she wasn’t stupid, but then she passed out again.
When she came to once more, she was curled up in a tiny ball on the hospital bed. Her throat was dry and she wet her lips with her tongue. “Pete?”
Within a matter of seconds, Pete's face popped into view, about five inches in front of Navi's nose. Hopefully she wasn't seeing two of him, since that would be double the rumpled up scruffiness. He looked angry and worried. The angry part wasn't at her, but at the bastard who messed her up like that. The worried part? That was 100% for Navi, but of course.
"...'ello, my rather roughed up Petal," he said, gently moving some of strands of blond hair out of her face with a fingertip. "M'right 'ere. And I'd like you to tell me that if I think you look roughed up, then I should see the one who did this. Or I'll shoot him."
Because that seemed perfectly rational. Illegal, but rational.
She smiled, reaching out for him so she could kiss him. “Broke a couple of the fingers on his right hand - since he used that as his gun hand, I’d assume he’s right handed. Blew out his left knee when I hit it with a brick and jacked up his right one when I kicked it. So he’ll have a substantial limp. I also hit his head on the right hand side, split his eyebrow, so he’ll have a fresh contusion there - “ Her voice, her words, but how had she seen all of this? But that wasn’t where her brain left off, and it was scaring her.
“He sounded bored, so he’s probably a career criminal, I’d check the East coast from his accent and why do I know all of this, Pete? I’ve never even punched someone before today and my brain is … so full now, I could hear him walking before I saw him, Pete. I heard him on a crowded street.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she closed them so Pete wouldn’t see. “It’s those - “ It’s those dreams, isn’t it? But that was just too crazy to say.
"...observant as always, luv," Pete said, leaning in and placing a kiss against what unscuffed portion of her face that his lips could find. He rested one hand over Navi's hand, dialing his phone with his free hand, to contact the officer who was handling the case. Then it was a simple matter of repeating all those details, each of which were important clues. After getting a reassurance that they were going to run the prints through the database, Pete hung up and began to very gently pet Navi's hair, careful not to apply very much pressure at all, and just enough warmth to be soothing.
"They'll catch him. He couldn't have gotten too far, it's petty thievery and assault, seems like. He thought he had an easy target and you weren't one, so good on you. I love you and m'proud of you," Pete said, his voice a low grumbling murmur. "S'probably better they get ahold of 'im, or I'd beat the bastard to a bloody pulp, for putting you through this."
She bit her lower lip, smiling at him. “I love you too. … Pete? If I’m really … what I am in my dreams, is that going to make you sad?” She knew he’d dreamed of things with fae that didn’t go nearly so well. “Because … what just happened? I kind of - they really are memories, aren’t they?”
"Wot're you on about? I think you've happened to marry the one bastard on this planet that at least knows fairies aren't harmless or fluffy, and if you turn tiny an' sprout wings...I'll still love you an' let you froof and sleep in my incredibly ruffled hair," he assured her, even if it was still bluntly done as always. "So, to answer your question more specifically? Yeah, I think in a way they are memories. If they weren't, then I wouldn't remember all the rubbish that I remembered, and I wouldn't be able to burn things or light a fag off my fingertips."
He smiled back at her, his gaze very much meeting hers in an unflinching manner. "It'll be all right, Navi."
She ran a palm over his cheek, smiling brightly at him through the film of her tears. “You love me even though I have memories where I’m a fairy who trains heroes to kill things. Could you be more amazing, Grumbles?” She tugged him down onto the gurney with her, grinning as she snogged him firmly. “How many points do we get for shagging while I have a concussion?”
"You love me even though I have memories of being a spy and that I killed so many people, I couldn't begin to count them all," he countered, once the kiss was over and he could actually answer her. "If we're applying points, m'going to have to say at least five hundred. B'cos I'm biased. But if you get the spins, pinch...my arse, a nipple...my lower lip? I don't know, yell HEY at me so I stop like you usually do."
She smiled, curling up with him under the flimsy hospital sheet. “You saved more people than you killed. Sometimes stuff like that is necessary.” She cupped his cheeks, smiling at him. “I haven’t been keeping track of our points, but I think we’re doing pretty well. And you know me, I’m not afraid to yell.” She giggled as she wiggled up her hospital gown around her hips. She hadn’t been joking.
"We're well ahead of any quota," he replied, taking one last eyedarting peek-see around before leaping in for a 'oh, you're injured, let me make it better' quickie in the hospital. He was obviously not joking, either, because he not only was very helpful with the hospital gown, but was also ready to dive right in. Literally and figuratively.