DATE:August 6, 2001 CAST: Basil and Walter Bug City Square Surrounded by quite an amazing site, with the towering stacks of boxes, cans and jars, even a phone book, this square gives you a closer look at the biggest of the bug buildings in the area. Traffic, of the bug variety, clutters the roads, almost like floods of beetles, roaches, and even a few grasshoppers rush down the streets and sidewalks. Looking down these large roads, you see a multitude of clutter that makes up even more buildings, apartments tower over small stores, a theatre flickers and shines with lights and fanfare. There's many choices, some fun, some dangerous... all connected by a network of cardboard sidewalks. The hustle and bustle of city life can be overwhelming, but in the past week or so, the two escapee ants have managed to find a certain degree of ability to work their way through the city without much incident. But as they have had little success in finding food, it's become increasingly needful for them to find work to support themselves. "So, where would you like to start first. Got a particular skill that you think would be of help to us?" Basil inquires of Walter as they make their way down the street. Not knowing exactly what kind of skill would be of help in the city. "Unless they've got tunnels or grain around here, I don't think my skills are marketable." Walter rubs the back of his neck as he walks alongside Basil, gaze flitting from various sights that he hasn't quite grown accustomed to yet--lights, colors, traffic, and such. All of it is still a novelty. "Not that I know what kind of skills this kind of place looks for, anyway, aside from stuff we *can't* do." He points out the fireflies serving as traffic signals, as well as the beetles transporting smaller insects. "Yeah, the same here," mutters Basil as he takes a brief look into the city traffic, and then back down the street. His mind seems captivated by the moment by his concern for getting work in the city, seeing how unlikely that might be from reports that the three young gals who arrived at the colony a while back experienced. "I'm just concerned that we might not have what it takes *to* get a job, but we can worry about that when the time comes." He exhales slightly, then looks back at Walter for a sign of encouragement. Walter shrugs. "Eh. We should be able to find *something*, I mean look at all these places." He tosses out an arm, gesturing expansively at the city. His eye is suddenly drawn to something on a shop window (which is actually a thin piece of plastic)... a 'Help Wanted' ad. Below are a bunch of squirming green things with big black eyes. He raises an eyeridge. "Aphids?" "Aphids..." Basil mutters softly. Something about that rings a bell, but he can't put a finger on it at the moment. "Have you had experience with aphids?" He asks thoughtfully as he too sees the sign, and watches the aphid inside squirm deeply. Basil isn't the biggest animal lover, but he can put that aside for financial support. "Sound like a good place to try our luck, how about it?" he attempts to nudge the other ant in the shoulder. Walter regards the aphids critically. "Ehh, well, I had -- I mean my *sister* once had an aphid. I had to take care of it sometimes." He shakes his head. "Not my favorite job, but it's not too hard." He winces as his shoulder is nudged -- the one that evidently got bruised from some exertion recently. Perhaps from chasing aggressive mites away from honey-roasted cashews. "Let's give it a shot." "Well, I guess that makes you the expert, then." Basil grins, not knowing, or at least reemerging that was the shoulder that was recently injured. "I'm not that experienced with them, but then how hard can they be?" As shrug is followed by a soft grin as he awaits Walter to enter the shop, hoping for the best. "Yeah. Aphid expert. Right. Just the title I always wanted." Said with a little sarcasm? That's an understatement. Walter rubs his sore shoulder momentarily, then casts another look at the aphids in question. Another second, and he steps inside the shop itself. Basil gives a deeper smile as he too considers the trade of aphid care, and then notices Walter rub his shoulder nimbly. "Oh, sorry about that." He grins sheepishly, and waits and follows his companion into the pet shop. The sound of the many aphids fills the small business establishment as he awaits for the owner to finish giving a customer assistance. The same feeling of deja vu bothers Basil again as he looks at the owner, but quickly dismisses it. Walter pauses, wrinkling his nose at an unpleasant but familiar smell. Great. The aphid pen probably needs to be cleaned out. That's going to be loads of fun. But hey, beggars can't be choosers. The ant strides toward the shop owner, a fly with greenish compound eyes, and politely waits until he finishes with the customer... a moth kid who leaves with her new pet, baby-talking to it. "Uh... hi! We saw your ad outside..." While Walter is speaking to the shop owner, the green-eyed fly, Basil walks over to the aphid pen and gives one a long probing look. "Huh. Well, you're cuter than I thought you would be." He reaches in to pick up one of the little green squirmy 'pets' and is taken back by how much the little aphid seems to take to the beige ant holding him. Basil feels that it would be a good idea to familiarize himself with the aphid since the shop owner might be in need of two employees, which would eliminate the search for another job. The fly fixes his gaze on the ant that addresses him, and immediately his expression changes -- and it's not a nice change, either. It becomes a grimace, as if he had just tasted something bitter. "I'm not hiring ants," he snaps. "Put that aphid down!" he yells at Basil. Friendly sort, isn't he? Eep. Walter takes a startled step backwards, gray-green optics widened. He forcibly loosens his posture, in an attempt to look less... jittery from the negative reply. "Well..." Awkward pause. "Why not?" Basil nearly drops the aphid he's holding as he is sternly ordered to place the little bug back into the pen. "Oh, sure..." He mutters to himself, "...just as I get even the /mildest/ bit attached to the little guy..." Basil reluctantly places the source of unconditional affection down into the pen and takes a look at the shop owner, noticing the pet he placed back beginning to bark, whine and whimper to be picked up again. "Yeah, why not?" the inquiry is reiterated. "Because the *last* time I dealt with your kind, I was robbed of my money AND aphids," is the affable response. The fly mutters to himself. "Cops still haven't found those three punks." He keeps a rigid gaze on the two ants, probably to make sure they don't make any sudden moves. "Oh." Walter glances off to the side, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Sorry," he offers lamely. "But it's not like *we* did anything." It would seem that the aphid in the pen hasn't had company for a while, at least the kind other than his own. It then puts up a much bigger fuss now that it's being ignored. "You don't have to worry about either of us," He offers simply. "We really need work, and the last thing we want is trouble with the cops," Basil implores. The sqealy aphid has become so invigorated, that it's on the verge of leaping out of the pen. Apprehension is felt as it is not known whether Basil should try to contain the pet, or simply let it tire itself out. "How many times do I have to make it clear to you that I am *not* hiring ants?" the fly demands, his murky wings becoming a grayish blur as he buzzes over the counter. "Get out, get out, get out!" Walter's arms dart up to protect himself from the fly's advance, backpedaling towards the door. The ant trips in his haste, falling onto his back with a loud "Oof!" He winces. "Whoa... okay, okay, we're going! We're gone!" He manages to scramble to his feet before the shop owner can get a chance to collar him, and stumbles through the door as fast as he possibly can. Basil watches the fly's irate response with a great deal of shock, then at the scene as Walter is seemingly attacked, and then falls to the floor in panic. He simply stares for a moment as the other ant makes his way to his feet, and out the door in a rapid motion. Basil is then watched with an intimidating glare as he quickly exits as well. Shaking his head at the seemingly unexplainable response the two innocent ants are treated with. Then it finally hits him, his recollection of the familiarity of the whole scenario, and one word is emitted from Basil's mouth. "Mazin!" He calls out in disbelief. Walter leans an arm against the outer wall of the shop, panting. "Man, what a grouch," he remarks, shaking his head vigorously. He slowly pushes himself away from the wall, preparing to move on, when that one word supplied by Basil brings him to a halt. "What?" A fairly heavy panting can be heard from Basil's lungs as he quickly steps out, then jerks aside as a mosquito walks by, nearly running into him. He takes a few steps over to Walter, and upon hearing his question for a reiteration to his earlier statement, Basil gently rubs the temples of his forhead, and mutters to himself. "It's amazing how the actions of one individual can effect so many others." He then looks over to Walter, and simply states, "Mazin is Shine's brother, who was one of the refugees who came to Ant Island two months ago." He then looks out into the street, and under his breath calls out, "Idiot!" An eyeridge is raised as Walter takes in the response. "Okay," he slowly says, folding his arms as his gaze sweeps about the area searchingly, probably to locate some other 'help wanted' ad. "But what does that guy have to do with this?" the other ant wonders, clearly not getting the connection here. "Okay, here is the short version." A short breath is taken as he begins. "Shine, Mazin and Willow were visiting the pet shop as a diversion to finding food, and to hide from slavers. As the other two were playing with an aphid, Mazin stole money from the owner while he wasn't looking." A deeper breath is taken in and expelled. "The owner saw Mazin with the money, and fled the scene, leaving the other two to deal with the incident." A hard glare is given to nowhere in particular as he mutters again. "How much more trouble have you caused!" is spat out in irritation. "Oh," is Walter's initial response to the tale, hoisting both eyeridges up in a facial shrug. Then the severity of it all, and how it affects them, finally sinks in. He massages the back of his neck, probably unconscious of this gesture. "Great. Just great. Sounds like a real swell guy," he mutters. "Talk about the ripple effect." Basil nods deeply. "Yeah, if things here weren't bad enough, I can just image how much damage he's done." A mournful head is shaken as he gestures toward Walter to begin their tedious search for employment. "I can just imagine how many places he's robbed that are going to hate ants simply for that reason." A sigh is made once again as a more frightening thought emerges. "I just hope no one mistakes one of us for him. The last thing we need to do is be arrested and thrown into jail for that jerk's mistakes." "Yeah... I mean it's bad enough that most insects look down on us as it is," Walter says, shifting his expression into a grimace as he strides forward. "At this rate, we're not going to rank any higher than a mite." He rubs the bridge of his nose briefly, frowning thoughtfully. "But not like there's much we can do about it anyways. We'll just have to keep looking. At least in jail, they'd feed us." He mutters as an afterthought, "I hope." A shudder is felt throughout Basil's form as he listens to Walter's views of the situation. "Yeah, you're right." But the thought of Jail time is less appealing. "Maybe so, but then I'd just assume to not find out if they do or don't feed you." Basil can hardly believe the luck that has been placed on them. "I guess the only thing that could make any of this worse is for someone to find us from the plantation and put us back into slavery again." Walter glances at Basil, expression bordering on a frown yet again. "Yeah, I'm not so fired-up anxious to find out either." His gaze switches to the sidewalk ahead of them, moving quickly to dodge the bugs barreling in their direction. In a big, busy city where ants rarely have much seniority, it's best to be quick. "But I don't want to starve either. We can worry about the worst-case scenario when it rears its ugly head." It would seem that experience is the best teacher as Basil experiences an increase in dexterity amongst the pedestrians along their path. He listens intently to Walter's comments, looking off into the distance, when he seems to come across another one of those 'help wanted' signs. This one seems to be an establishment, of some kind of entertainment club, or what not. He slows his pace slightly and points a finger toward the sign in the window, hoping they will have better success with this locale. "Want to give this one a go?" He suggests with a little intrepidation in his voice. Walter swings his gaze to the sign Basil points out, his footfalls slowing. He hoists up his shoulders in a slow, easy shrug. "Yeah, sure, why not," he says, more or less indifferent to the nature of the establishment. Probably too hungry and distracted to care anymore. Rubbing the back of his neck absently, he plods in that direction. "Okay." Basil mutters as he takes turn in the effort to find work, and enters the building, attempting to find the owner of the business and how or what kind of work is available. Located in the brightly lit front room are a number of bugs that appear to be auditioning for a part of some kind or other. "Uh..." is about all Basil can utter as he feels his confidence wane to a fairly deep degree. 'It just /had/ to be my turn, to do this kind of stuff. I'm no performer..." He mutters to himself, but hunger is the number one feeling he's dealing with right now, so as a young female Katydid looks up from a clipboard a faint smirk is shown on her face. The same look of 'ants' that has been seen so frequently lately, but her shoulders rise and fall, as it would seem she is in a desparate situation. A swift look is passed around the area, a vague sense of curiosity kindling in Walter's gaze. But right about now, food is the number one priority. So he doesn't spare it too much attention, other than to single out the insects who look as though they're in charge. Gray-green eyes rest on the katydid. Then her clipboard. Must be the one. "Hey, uh, ma'am, we saw that 'help wanted' ad outside... what kind of work is it?" "Well... " she places the clipboard down into her lap, and a barely tanigible roll of the eyes are made as he places her hands into her lap. "...do either of you guys have any talent for singing?" She looks around the room with a look of frustration in her voice. Very tangible indeed. "We are in need of a performer or two who can perform vocally for our stage show." She looks down as if she alone carries the burden of finding the 'right voice'. Deep blue eyes are grown into wide spheres as Basil swallows hard. An obvious expression of anxiety is given as he feels he has less than no ability to sing, as well as perform. But the ever present need for nourishment is gnawing at his stomach, and in such a situation, he finds he must do what he can to earn some kind of income. "Well, to be honest, I can't say I have a lot of experience, but then I'm certainly willing to give it a try." His voice sounds out more fear than he really cares to show. "How hard can it be?" He adds after a few seconds of silence. How hard can it be? Walter himself begins to look a trifle uneasy at the prospect of performing -- singing, no less. The horror. The horror! Swallowing hard, he quietly says, "Unless you'll consider a performance dedicated to something else, like knock knock jokes or something, I'll... give it a shot too." A side-glance is passed to Basil, conveying the silent question: Who will be the first victim? Despite the katydid's better judgement, she decides to give the ants a try. "You." She signals over to the one who addressed her first. "I would like for you to sing the words that are written on this clipboard," she hands another paper holding device to Basil and directs him to stand on a mark placed on the floor. "And we'll see how good you can do." She then walks back to her chair, and sits back comfortably. Then a pleading smile follows, mainly for her own comfort in trying these two guys out. While looking down at the paper, Basil looks precariously at the words, reads them a couple of times, then he begins. "It was once, in my life, that I saw her. Oh, how sweet, and teriffic she was..." The poor guy simply has no talent for singing, and the expression is given by the audtitoner is one of that it would be best for him to not continue. "Oh, um okay." Basil walks back to the katydid, and hands her the clipboard, and a forced smile. To which she returns the same, and he headsback over to Walter, with the slightest detection of red in his cheeks. An expression of 'good luck' is passed on. Uhhh boy. Walter scratches the side of his head whilst looking down, pretty much avoiding looking Basil in the eye during the (very brief) performance. He just can't trust himself to keep a straight face otherwise -- not that he's got talent in this sort of thing either, and he knows it. A part of him considers ditching this and fleeing to another establishment, but his stomach protests against this idea. So he forces himself to approach the katydid in order to take the clipboard. A look of concern is made as she remebers Walter's comememt about 'knock knock jokes' but refrains from passing judgement. You never know when you might find someone with a hidden born talent. "If you would be so kind as to sing the same works as your friend did..." She then motions for the other audtionier to take the mark and to begin. Basil looks ominously, not at any doubt at Walter's talent, but of what he'll do if the job is obtained by his friend. A look of reassurance is given as he stands and hopes for the best. Maybe he can still find a job as a stageworker or something of that nature, so he then asks the katydid the question on his mind. "If you do hire Walter, I'd be happy to take a job for the stage or with props or something." Walter accepts the clipboard stiffly, and nods. His eyes skim across the words written down on the paper as he approaches the same mark Basil was directed to. In fact his attention is so focused on imbedding the lyrics in his short-term memory that he doesn't exactly pay attention to how his feet are placed, and he abruptly trips. He regains his balance, if not his dignity, and stands in place sheepishly. Aheh. After a few seconds, he begins, singing the same starting line. His voice isn't too bad, actually -- or it wouldn't be if he knew how to use it properly. As it is, a bit of 'stage dust' drifts into his throat, resulting in a nasty coughing fit before he can get past the first verse. "Ah, forget it..." downcast, he approaches the katydid to surrender the clipboard, knowing full well that this job is destined for neither of them. The katydid does her best to force a smile as she is handed the clipboard from Walter. She then puts her head down and rubs the sides of her forehead with her hands. This hasn't been her day, or her week. She then looks up at the two ants, and in a sympathetic expression states: "Um I believe that there is a petshop just a short distance down the street that is looking for help. Why don't you give them a try." The katydid places the clipboard down to the ground and makes her way to an out of site room, and an audible groaning is ensued. Nothing more. It's doubtful that a heavy gust of wind could move Basil more quickly out of that location than he commenced in obtaining. In fact, he didn't even wait to see if Walter was following him until he reached the street again. In a mixed emotion of grief, frustration and horrible embarrassment, he sighed, awaiting for the other ant to follow. Barely stopping a groan of exasperation from escaping his throat, Walter similarly flees the area, red-faced from the embarassment and bitter irony of it all -- pet shop, indeed! He emerges from the establishment with all the posturing of a whipped aphid, wiping little beads of perspiration from his forehead. Watching Walter escape the establishment at a simliar pace, Basil immediately gives a consoling glance and utters, "Do me a little favor, and remind me of my great singing talents, of which I possess none of, if I ever try anything like that again." After a short pause is added, "Or just whack me over the head and knock me out, okay?" "So long as you return the favor." Walter tries and fails to summon a smirk, and resumes walking down the sidewalk... albeit with a slower, defeated gait. Heaving a sigh, he tries to ignore the audible, grumbling demands for food that originate from his stomach, and focuses instead on finding another job ad. "Well... at least we're not in danger of being attacked by rabid aphids or turning into snotty, self-important stage performers." "Agreed," Basil promises and then adds. "You can say that again," is the reply given to Walter's understandably sarcastic comment. The sound of Walter's stomach is heard and only serves to increase Basil's anxiety over their sitation, and plods down the sidewalk by the equally defeated Walter. [END LOG] Next Log: Another Day in the City Return to: Muted Identity logs.

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