prompt for January 31st - Harry Potter/Sneakers
Yet another prompt that went sideways on me. ::shrugs:: It happens.
Prompt for January 31:
Find your way in a city.
The kids are long gone by the time Marty recovers enough to stand upright. Whatever that trick was, it was not his idea of a fun time, and now he's lost his bearings, not to mention the rest of the guys.
Maybe they should have just taken phones and said the hell with the probability they wouldn't work. But knowing Mother, they've each got one of those trackers on their person, and have the whole time. He's still in the city, from the look of his surroundings, so if he just stays put they should find him eventually.
Provided they make it out of the Ministry all right, of course - but Marty has faith in them.
The kids have left him off in front of a town house, in a part of the city the guys haven't been through. At a glance, he wouldn't call it an area the local wizards would give much thought - the remainder of the street looks thoroughly mundane. Even this house does, if one excludes the serpentine door knocker. He's not sure what else to do just now, so he sits down on the front step.
Or he starts to, anyway, but he's interrupted by a three-foot-high... something or other that's putting him in mind of Tolkien... trying to kneecap him with a frying pan.
"Ow! What the hell--"
"What happened to Master Potter? Master Potter and his friends should be back by now - Kreacher has been listening for them. You should not be here." The not-Gollum guy readies the frying pan for another swing.
"Well, you missed them, and I don't know where they went. I was a little busy being sick at the time. Now, will you please stop hitting me? I'll agree I shouldn't be here, but I got separated from my friends and I don't want to get more lost than I already am."
"...How does Kreacher know you speak truly?"
"If it were up to me, I wouldn't be here in the first place. Far as I can tell, I just caught the girl's arm at the wrong moment. Will that do?"
Not-Gollum never answers, but he doesn't hit Marty again. After a while, he wanders back into the house, and Marty sits down on the front step like he'd meant to. At least now he has a last name to consider - and one that was all over the paperwork at the Ministry, to boot. If Potter's one of those kids, he and his friends were probably up to something more than fulfilling a dare, which at least means they had a good reason to be sneaking into such an odious building.
It's got Marty all the more intrigued as to what the other half of the story is. Well, that and the fact that those kids probably couldn't be much less sneaky if they tried.
It feels like a couple hours before there's any sign of the guys, though it might be closer to one. From the looks of things, Marty was right in guessing Mother took precautions. The funny part is when they walk right past him.
"I don't get it," Mother says, after they backtrack. "The signal's pointing right here, but there's no way he'd fit between those two houses."
Carl sighs. "Maybe your tracker thingy's broken?"
"Can't be. I was just working on it a couple weeks ago."
"...It's broken, in other words."
"Cut it out, guys," Marty says, hoping to at least give Whistler a better bead on his location. "Whether it's broken or not, it got you to the right place."
Sure enough, Whistler pauses. "Bish? Where are you?"
"About forty feet straight in front of you guys."
Crease looks right at him, and then sighs. "Stop fooling around, Martin, there's a join between two houses there. Even Carl's not skinny enough to fit that."
"Guys, hang on, let me try something..." Mother walks forward, eyeing the tracker, and stops just short of the front walk. "...Huh. The box shorted out."
"Great, so now we have an invisible house to deal with?"
"I can see it just fine," Marty protests, but he doesn't push the point.
Carl makes one of those faces that tend to happen when he's confronted with particularly recalcitrant programming. "Whatever it is, it's pretty damn strong. Some kind of protection thing - I'd say invisible fence, but then you'd probably be able to see the house."
"But it's not impossible to get around," Whistler says, "or we wouldn't be having this problem. How'd you get back there, Bish?"
"I don't know, not in technical terms. I think I just caught the girl's arm at the wrong time, and by the time I got over the motion sickness, they weren't around to ask." Marty knows where this is going, though - straight into 'what did it sound like?' territory - and so he tries to reconstruct those last few minutes of chaos at the Ministry in his mind.
"One of the kids said something," he finally says. "Right before they left. I don't know how helpful it would be, since they seem to have a habit of plotting out loud, so far."
"Go on."
"I don't remember the exact phrasing, but it was something like, 'We have to get to Twelve Grimmauld now'--"
"The hell?" Carl interrupts, staring at the house like it just appeared out of nowhere. Of course, from his perspective, it probably had, but Marty can't help a little amusement.
"So you can only find it if you already know where it is," Mother says, switching off his tracker. "Must make having company next to impossible."
Marty stands up, and winces; that frying pan's probably going to leave a bruise, at this rate. "Well, if there's anyone inside, maybe we could ask them."
Prompt for January 31:
Find your way in a city.
The kids are long gone by the time Marty recovers enough to stand upright. Whatever that trick was, it was not his idea of a fun time, and now he's lost his bearings, not to mention the rest of the guys.
Maybe they should have just taken phones and said the hell with the probability they wouldn't work. But knowing Mother, they've each got one of those trackers on their person, and have the whole time. He's still in the city, from the look of his surroundings, so if he just stays put they should find him eventually.
Provided they make it out of the Ministry all right, of course - but Marty has faith in them.
The kids have left him off in front of a town house, in a part of the city the guys haven't been through. At a glance, he wouldn't call it an area the local wizards would give much thought - the remainder of the street looks thoroughly mundane. Even this house does, if one excludes the serpentine door knocker. He's not sure what else to do just now, so he sits down on the front step.
Or he starts to, anyway, but he's interrupted by a three-foot-high... something or other that's putting him in mind of Tolkien... trying to kneecap him with a frying pan.
"Ow! What the hell--"
"What happened to Master Potter? Master Potter and his friends should be back by now - Kreacher has been listening for them. You should not be here." The not-Gollum guy readies the frying pan for another swing.
"Well, you missed them, and I don't know where they went. I was a little busy being sick at the time. Now, will you please stop hitting me? I'll agree I shouldn't be here, but I got separated from my friends and I don't want to get more lost than I already am."
"...How does Kreacher know you speak truly?"
"If it were up to me, I wouldn't be here in the first place. Far as I can tell, I just caught the girl's arm at the wrong moment. Will that do?"
Not-Gollum never answers, but he doesn't hit Marty again. After a while, he wanders back into the house, and Marty sits down on the front step like he'd meant to. At least now he has a last name to consider - and one that was all over the paperwork at the Ministry, to boot. If Potter's one of those kids, he and his friends were probably up to something more than fulfilling a dare, which at least means they had a good reason to be sneaking into such an odious building.
It's got Marty all the more intrigued as to what the other half of the story is. Well, that and the fact that those kids probably couldn't be much less sneaky if they tried.
It feels like a couple hours before there's any sign of the guys, though it might be closer to one. From the looks of things, Marty was right in guessing Mother took precautions. The funny part is when they walk right past him.
"I don't get it," Mother says, after they backtrack. "The signal's pointing right here, but there's no way he'd fit between those two houses."
Carl sighs. "Maybe your tracker thingy's broken?"
"Can't be. I was just working on it a couple weeks ago."
"...It's broken, in other words."
"Cut it out, guys," Marty says, hoping to at least give Whistler a better bead on his location. "Whether it's broken or not, it got you to the right place."
Sure enough, Whistler pauses. "Bish? Where are you?"
"About forty feet straight in front of you guys."
Crease looks right at him, and then sighs. "Stop fooling around, Martin, there's a join between two houses there. Even Carl's not skinny enough to fit that."
"Guys, hang on, let me try something..." Mother walks forward, eyeing the tracker, and stops just short of the front walk. "...Huh. The box shorted out."
"Great, so now we have an invisible house to deal with?"
"I can see it just fine," Marty protests, but he doesn't push the point.
Carl makes one of those faces that tend to happen when he's confronted with particularly recalcitrant programming. "Whatever it is, it's pretty damn strong. Some kind of protection thing - I'd say invisible fence, but then you'd probably be able to see the house."
"But it's not impossible to get around," Whistler says, "or we wouldn't be having this problem. How'd you get back there, Bish?"
"I don't know, not in technical terms. I think I just caught the girl's arm at the wrong time, and by the time I got over the motion sickness, they weren't around to ask." Marty knows where this is going, though - straight into 'what did it sound like?' territory - and so he tries to reconstruct those last few minutes of chaos at the Ministry in his mind.
"One of the kids said something," he finally says. "Right before they left. I don't know how helpful it would be, since they seem to have a habit of plotting out loud, so far."
"Go on."
"I don't remember the exact phrasing, but it was something like, 'We have to get to Twelve Grimmauld now'--"
"The hell?" Carl interrupts, staring at the house like it just appeared out of nowhere. Of course, from his perspective, it probably had, but Marty can't help a little amusement.
"So you can only find it if you already know where it is," Mother says, switching off his tracker. "Must make having company next to impossible."
Marty stands up, and winces; that frying pan's probably going to leave a bruise, at this rate. "Well, if there's anyone inside, maybe we could ask them."