DATE: August 6, 2001 CAST: Basil, Bill, Locus 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. Life in the city for most insects means a hurried existence filled with things to do, places to go, and people to see. At least if the frenetic traffic on both the sidewalk and streets is any indication. One of those not rushing about is Walter. Shoulders slumped, dragging his feet, he scans the area without really seeing it. The only thing on his mind is food, and the fact that he and Basil are getting so little of it. Basil can hardly ignore the hunger that plagues his very form. Food has been scarce, and it's really showing in his physical activity, as well as his appearance. He finds little in the way of energy to keep up with Walter, but since the other ant's progress is really no better, he keeps the same pace. A light headedness is the other influence on him as well. Compounded with the lack of sleep from want of food, it's a small wonder he can make his way as well as he does.. It's been another hard day, the job, the daily grind, the stupid boss who is constantly getting on his case. "How the heck, am I supposed to do this stupid job, if he asks me to do stuff I can't do, and haven't been trained for!" Enzo complains to himself audibly. Truth be known, the main reason he's having trouble with his boss is his lack of attentativeness in his training, but he is slowly getting the job done. Enzo manages his way down the street, not watching, or caring for that matter, who gets into his way. He's just mad as usual. Well this is just great. They're starving, nobody will hire them, they have to fight mites and various vermin off of everything they find, and only the ground serves as a bed. As all these frustrations mount up in his mind, Walter tosses up his hands and kicks at a light post. Which proves to be a mistake. "OW!" He stumbles back, hopping on one foot repeatedly while he attempts to nurse the other, and inadvertently skids in the grouchy mosquito's way. Well, Walter must be in a bad mood to kick the light post like that. But then Basil isn't in much of a better mood, himself. The last few days have been more of a torture than just simple survival. A wincing occures at the pain Walter inflicts on himself, slowly shakes his head and stops to avoid being hit by the other ant. He is too preoccupied with the activities before him to see the mosquito heading their way. "Hey, watch where you are going!" yells out Enzo as a firefly darts in front of him in a rather rude manner. A fist is shaken as the bug enters a nearby entrance. "This city is so full of mindless idiots!" He calls out, and keeps walking forward without watching his progress, nor seeing the ant that has befallen into his path, and attempts to stop in time without tripping over him. Okay... taking his anger out on a poor, innocent rusty nail was probably a bad idea. Walter grimaces as he finally sets his injured foot on the ground, but favors putting most of his weight on the other foot. He stands in place for awhile, his back to the approaching mosquito, not seeing him at all -- until the moment of impact. "Gah!" He spills forward, landing on the cardboard sidewalk with a painful thud. He gazes up at where the sky would be were it not obstructed by the man-made structure, dizzily attempt to regain his sense as he rises. "Oh, oh!" Calls out Basil as he first watches Walter regain his footing, more or less, then is impacted upon by Enzo in his speedily gait to his next destination. Several steps are taken to the side to avoid being involved in the impact himself and hopes for the best for everyone involved. A gasp in emitted. Enzo finds himself with the sidewalk suddenly in his face. How rude for the sidewalk to do that to him! He then rolls over a couple of times and quickly sits up in a fit, and passes an fuming glare at the cause of his unwanted inpact with the ground. "You!" He calls in a loud grumble. "You stupid ant, why can't you be more careful when /I'm/ walking down the street minding my own business." Huh? What? Is someone talking? Walter shakes the stars out of his eyes and focuses a bleary gaze on the source: Enzo. Uh oh. "Uh, er, sorry?" he gasps out, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I-I didn't see you." He clambers to his feet unsteadily, ignoring the pain stabbing at his left foot. With a gaping expression, at least one he can muster with his weak condition, Basil swallows at what could turn into an ugly situation. "Oh boy." He mutters softly as he watches Enzo confront Walter. And in his current condition, hopes not to get into fisticuffs, seeing how they would most likely lose out miserably. A steady stance is kept, in the case an escape has to be made, however futile that would be. Enzo could really care less at what kind of excuse the ant before him has, for he is an ant, and that is all that matters. "Um, I don't think I could understand your mindless mutterings, would you mind saying that again?" A angered expression becomes twisted on his face, and deep inside hoping the answer will make him more angry. How he would like to take his frustrations out on another. He then hears Basil's muttering, and very nearly flattens the ant to his right without a single thought. A sharp expression is delivered. Walter swallows hard, and doesn't trust himself to repeat what he just said. He trusts the mosquito even less, evidently. From the looks of this slightly larger insect, he's just looking for an excuse to pound something. "Whoa!" the ant exclaims, pointing up, "would you look at the time... we gotta scram." He starts to back away, gray-green eyes darting left and right as he tries to locate a running clearance. Looking up at the menacing individual before him, Basil watches the confrontation between Walter and the Mosquito that makes his blood run a little cold. "Okay." He merely offers at the nasty glare given him. Quickly he catches the situation and the comment made by Walter to get out of the area, without haste. "Yeah, we don't want any trouble, we'll just be on our way." A soft, and shaky explanation is made. Enzo has no intention of letting either of these two off so easily. "Oh, don't leave on my account, I haven't been able to repay either of you," he first flashes an incensed look at Walter, then at Basil, "for your detaining me from my next appointment." He then attempts to grab both ants by the arm and in a rather forceful way, attempting to shove them against a cardboard wall of the nearest building. "You for tripping me, and you for back talking." A sarcastic smile is given to both. "I can't allow that, understand?" Walter makes an attempt to avoid Enzo's hand, but isn't fast enough. His wits are much too dulled by a fitful hunger, the weakness that accompanies malnourishment, and the pain elicited from his abusing a poor, innocent light post (and incidentally his foot). Once he feels himself slammed into a wall, he freezes, making no attempt to struggle as he eyes the mosquito fearfully. Not only does he lack the energy to fight back successfully, he's learned from many an observation *not* to fight off a bigger insect when they have no misgivings about squishing you. A sudden grabbing of his arm, along with a tight grip, is felt and Basil winces a little as he feels himself forced against the wall. A slight cough is emitted as some of the wind is knocked out, but remains as calm as possible. "I, I mean we don't want any, uh, trouble. W, w, we'll just leave you alone, o, o, okay?" Is offered, but the size and threat of Enzo gives him little reason to believe he will simply do so. Basil stands motionless, with his eyes glancing from the Mosquito to Walter and back again. Enzo gives a long glance at Walter, then back to Basil. He is satisfied with the lack of response from the first ant. But then upon hearing Basil's plear, becomes infuriated, and attempts to grab Basil around the throat, to deliver a more direct response. "You should learn a thing or two from your friend here, so why don't you keep your trap shut!" He roars indignantly. Walter's eyes narrow, not in anger, but in a sort of wince as the enraged mosquito loses his temper with the other ant. Despite the experience of a slave's life, there is still that urge to struggle, fight, kick, yell. But it's an instinct easily kept in strict reign. His form is stiff, alert, eyes open for some means of escape should this insect lose interest in them... he hopes. Basil feels the mosquito's hand grab his throat, struggling for breath. In his weakened state, everything begins to blacken out to a degree, rendering him completely defenseless. Hands are held flat against the wall, despite the nearly overwhelming desire to force the mosquito's off. Figuring that if he should retaliate, he would most likely be strangled or worse. A simple nod is weakly given and he awaits for Enzo to do what ever he intends. Standing virtually silent, and for the most part uninterested in either of them, Enzo receives the answer he wants from Basil, but only slightly lightens his grasp around the beige ant's neck. "Okay, so here is what I intend to do with the two of you." A sarcastic smile is given, and a thought seems to permeate through his vicious mind. A long pause is given, just long enough to give a good scare into the minds of the ants before him. "I'm really not in the mood for a long drawn out situation, but this is what I'll give you in payment for your trouble to me." Then he lets go of both, and raises a hand and strikes both ants in the side with his fist, intending to send them sprawling to the ground. If it were physically possible to melt into a demoralized little puddle, Walter would probably do just that. Figuratively, that's what happens to his dim hope of being let off the hook as Enzo begins to tell them what he intends to do. He flinches as the silence hangs in the air, his underfed frame stiffening further. And then a fist meets him square in the side, which achieves the desired effect of having him fall over. He slumps on the ground, coughing violently and eyes watering slightly as his side aches intensely in protest. The wind being restricted is more than Basil can tolerate, but soon finds his windpipe reopen. He makes an attempt to catch some air when he too is struck in the side, and cascades to the ground, slamming into the ground hard. With the combination of the lack of oxygen joined with the impact into his thorax, Basil quickly blacks out as darkness surrounds him. Which is just as well since the pain would be more than he would want to deal with at that moment. He lies motionless on the ground. Locus walks into the town square with Bill in tow. He turns and sees a mosquito beating up a couple of ants, and laughs. Enzo then turns, and makes his way down the sidewalk again, without muttering another word. "Stupid ants." He remarks to himself and a high pitched laughter is emitted as he leaves the area. Enzo could really have cared less what would have happened to them, but since he has his frustrations out, feels much better. Bill looks at the ants. "You want we should help them, boss?" Locus turns and gives Bill a funny look. "Bill, those are ANTS. We don't help them, we hurt them. If you had asked if you could kick them when they were down, I would have said yes. Bill, hold still for a second." Bill says, "Okay boss." Locus whacks Bill in the back of the head. "Okay, you can keep moving now." Bill says, "Okay boss." Walter remains on his knees, leaning heavily on his hands as he grits his teeth and visibly fights down the painful throbbing in his side. If he hears the laughter and talking nearby, he makes no sign of it. Instead his gaze drifts on his unconscious companion. "Hey. Basil?" he asks between pants. "You okay?" Locus walks up behind the ants, and decides to play with them a bit. "Bill, go on ahead. I'll catch up later," he says, as he walks up behind Walter. He tries his best to do a mocking imitation of Walter's voice. "Hey Brssl... heh heh... You Mmkay!" Basil is still quite unconscious to the world, and to snickering grasshoppers as well as Walter. Basil is still out but may come to, soon. But for the moment is unaware of anything going on. His chest rises and falls softly but steadily as his breathing continues. That last impact was a little more than his weakened state could tolerate. Bill has left. This just won't do... a sidewalk is not the safest place to take a nap. Hence, Walter tries to wake him up, shaking his shoulder: "C'mon buddy... don't black out on me now." As he hears the grasshopper behind him, he loses himself to despondancy and drops his forehead into his hands. "Oh skies, just leave us alone already!" Locus tries to look innocent... something hard for a big blue grasshopper to do when teasing a pair of beaten-up ants... "Who, me? I'm just a concerned citizen of Bug City, coming to see what the problem is. I saw your little scuffle there." A light moaning can be heard as Basil begins to come out of the state of unconsciousness. He is still quite incognizant of what is going on, but seems to be coming around little by little. Finally he is able to discern a few voices and there are blurry forms around him, and he hears some conversation but can't quite make out what is being said. Walter lifts up his head and glances over at the grasshopper with poorly disguised caution. He remains silent, unsure about answering this specimen. Most ants are taught to fear grasshoppers. Experience has heightened this dread. Therefore, he says nothing, only regards the blue insect dumbly, hoping he, too, will go away. Locus nudges his foot towards Basil, but then remembers that he's pretending to be nice, and stops short of contact. "What's with him? Heck, what's with your long-nosed friend over there?" he asks, as he points towards the departing mosquito. "What was up HIS thorax..." Basil can discern more and more as he comes around. "Uh..." He gasps and coughs a number of times before attempting to speak again. "I'd rather not go into detail on what just happened." He deeply moaned to whoever he was addressing and continued to lay still for a few minutes. "Uh, Walter, who the heck am I talking to?" is asked followed by more labored coughing. Locus for some odd reason... probably something to do with the insanity thing, Locus decides to extend his hand down towards the little ant on the ground. "Just a concerned citizen. What's your name? I didn't quite catch it when your friend spoke to you a moment ago." Walter quickly glances down as Basil seems to come to, relief cracking through his perturbed demeanor. And then amazement as Locus actually reaches down and... offers to *help* Basil up? His eyes are liabel to fall out of his head if they could get any wider. Managing to finally work himself into a semi seated position, otherwise leaning against the wall of the building, he watches the strange tinted grasshopper offer his hand, but he still has his suspicions, and would back away rather quickly if he had the strength to do anything but lay reclined. "Uh..." Is moaned again, and a cough or two is emitted before anything can be uttered. "How do we know we can..." Basil stops and does not continue, in case the statement might offend the hopper before him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not quite with you, yet." Locus smiles, "That's all right. I know... the whole ant/grasshopper thing. I understand, believe me. But I'm just here to offer assistance if you need it." He looks at both of the ants, "There are a few of us in the city who aren't like the others." He holds out a hand towards both of the ants, open, and palm up, trying to be as un-threatening as possible. Somehow, the fact that this grasshopper is being so nice and gracious unnerves Walter even more than behavior he's been conditioned to expect -- the 'get out of my face you stupid ant!' sort of behavior. His stomach ties itself into a knot as he clambers to his feet. It has to be some kind of trick. "What do you want in return?" he asks, guardedly. Locus is taken aback. Most ants are usually a bit more innocent than that... "In return for what? I haven't done anything for you yet. I thought you ants believed in an ordered society... the more you help others, the less you end up having to do for yourself. All I've done is extend a hand." He seems a bit hurt, but he still smiles at them, "All I really expected was you to return that much." Basil simply looks up toward both Walter and then the hopper whose claims for assistance also creates some suspicions for he as well. Though merely continuing to lie there, listening to the conversation, he slowly manages to get himself into a more comfortable position, if it were possible, and rest his head on the cardboard behind him. "We've been through more than you know, and have come to be weary of proffered hands, that have had more than an offer for help behind them." Basil then winces in pain from the stabbing sensation in his side, and adds: "You'll have to accept that we are not that trusting of others, understand?" Walter lifts up a hand, digits scratching at the back of his neck nervously. His gaze lowers as he tries to carefully formulate a response, having no wish to purposely offend an insect who is significantly bigger than he is, but Basil beats him to it. Hand dropping back to his side, he nods in agreement with Basil's words. Locus nods, "No offense taken, really. I live in Bug City. I'm used to that kind of attitude.", he pauses, looking between the two ants, "Usually not that STRONG of an attitude, though. I'm almost afraid to even ask what this 'more than I know' is... not that I'd expect a suspicious bug to answer right away." Rather than respond, Basil ruminates the statement made, and the same look of doubtable concern is held in his expression. "I know I'd rather not go into the details on what I've been through, but suffice it to say, it's given me more than reason to doubt." He then takes in a deep breath, and exhales painfully. "I've been betrayed by my own kind, so trust is not a luxury I can afford, speaking for myself anyway." A glance is given to Walter, assuming the same sentement to be possesed by him. Another nod follows as the other ant folds his arms stiffly. Walter is apparently not in a very conversational mood just at the moment. Locus looks at himself, then back at the ants. "Well, I'm certainly not your kind... still. You've piqued my curiosity. What are little ants like you doing here in the city anyhow?" A long pause is made, and a great deal of thought is made before an answer can be offered. "I'd really rather not go into details on the situation, suffice it to say that we've come here, against our will, and without a way or means home, are forced to live here." A sad, sullen expression is made, but no other information is offered at this time. It would seem prudent that with the escape he and Walter have made, that any knowledge of their retreat could result in their re-instatement to the plantation, of which a most likely unspeakable horror would occur. Walter points a sharp look at Basil at this, then breathes out a relieved sigh as he realizes the other ant also sees the prudence in not giving away the details of their 'great escape.' He unfolds his arms as he views the grasshopper from askance. Locus shakes his head. "Against your will?". He looks from ant to ant... observing their haggard state. "Ants brought to the city against their will?" Locus withdraws his hands and crosses them against his chest. "Say no more. I understand. I happen to have... well... connections. I know of some of the... trade of ants. I myself have an ant in this city who I consider to be... well, a friend, I suppose. He was tricked into going too close to a certain plantation... it happened right here in the city square. Luckily there was some do-gooder meddler here... otherwise I might never have tracked him down." Locus looks down at them, and honestly says, "I am no friend of any slaver." It would seem that despite all that has been said, Basil will not acquiesce the information given. In fact, something of that last statement, 'do-gooder meddler' puts a greater deal of agitation in the mind of this ant, who now finds the actions more suspicious than before. "I wish I could give you a better answer, I doubt that anything you can say or do will change our minds." A short pause is made, and the expression become downbeat. "We both are too weak to defend our selves, and I don't wish to offend you, but feel it would be in our best consideration that we look after our own needs." Locus sighs, "I suppose you've met others who can lie as convincingly as I tell the truth. I don't blame you. I just have one question to ask... are you trying to get home, or are you trying to stay in the city?" Walter leans his back against the cardboard wall, chin pressing into his chest as he regards the sidewalk. "Agreed," he murmurs in concurrence with Basil's various comments. He glances about, perhaps to keep the various openings and escape routes in mind, even though Locus hasn't made any threatening moves. But the mere mention of 'slavers' brings a certain hardness to his eyes, and his posture becomes rigid. His antennae twitch at Locus' question. "We don't know where home is," he states simply. "I don't have one anymore." Locus shrugs. "Homes are overrated. I live under a shoebox. But you... no anthill? My friend hails from Ant Island. He lives there on and off. You have none of your own? Every ant has an anthill." Passing a sideways glance as Walter, a feeling of sympathy and painful remorse for his newly found friend causes Basil to simply nod and stare off into the crowd. "No, Idea." He mutters to himself. Hopefully an escape *won't* be necessary as Basil is still rather weak, and unless Walter can become of assistance in such an attempt, any would be quite disastrous. "Sure, an ant colony would be ideal, but without..." 'Uh, oh.' Basil panics. 'Too much information.' "My colony has no idea what happened to me, and have no idea where I am, so it would seem that city life is all either of us have at this point." 'Home.' Basil thinks, but not wanting to put any undue trust, he simply shrugs his shoulders. Walter perks his antennae at the name... Ant Island. Basil has mentioned it more than once, he remembers. He glances at his companion curiously, but seeing that he is not jumping up and down for directions, he deems it wise to wipe the look of recognition from his face instantly. After all, they still don't know if they can trust this blue 'hopper. He heaves a sigh as he recollects his own colony, the one he can't return to even if he knew where it was. Locus sees that they don't trust him, and finally gives up... but for some reason... once again, probably the insanity... decides to be nice to them. He knows that he could pick them both off and simply cart them off to his warehouse... but he simply... doesn't want to. He sighs, "Very well. Have it your way. But if you need anything... and you don't know where else to turn, the shoebox warehouse to the north is my domicile. You're welcome to show up anytime. It's rarely locked." Locus turns and walks away, without even giving his name. Watching the hopper head off into the distance, Basil lets out a sigh mixed with both relief and undescribable pain. "What a horrible quandary." He states to Walter after a number of seconds pass and he feels it is safe to speak freely. "We could be turning down the opportunity of a lifetime, perhaps the only way we'll ever have out of here..." Basil becomes lost in thought and is unable to continue farther. He stares at the ground, with no desire to look up again. Walter's head drops, eyes closing as he tries to ignore the unpleasant gnawing sensation in his stomach. "Yeah... but at least he kind of 'left the door open.'" His eyes snap open as he suppresses a shudder. "I dunno which was worse... this, or that mosquito. At least I'm *used* to big insects kicking me around. That's no shocker." "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I'm not so used to it myself," is muttered again without much of a response. "Speaking of that mosquito, I guess we better get off the street incase he gets back, and feels the need to use us as punching bags again." A look of confirmation, one way or the other is then waited upon by the other ant beside him. "Yeah, if we do find a reason to trust him, we do have that much," is added in contemplation. As a response, Walter slowly pushes himself away from the wall, recoiling as the new pain lances through his side again. "Hey, not like I enjoy it... if I there were some way to magically increase my stature, I'd be happy to give them a kick in the head." Pause. "But yeah. Let's get out of here." He slowly starts walking away from the area, expecting Basil to follow. Basil attempts to get onto his feet as well, but the pain in his side is just a little too much to support his weight, he then slumps back down again, hoping then to get Walter's attention before they become separated. "Uh, Walter?" He calls out to get the other ants attention. "I guess we'd better wait here, I'm in no condition to travel on my own." Basil looks up toward Walter in a rather piteous expression, not wanting to feel dependent on another for such a seemingly simply task. Walter comes a halt, expression tightening into a frown. He turns about and marches--well, trudges back over as best as he can, the look fading as he approaches Basil. "Well, I'm surprised you managed as well as you did on the plantation, then." He plops down next to the other ant with a sigh, and absently picks up a loose piece of paper that fell to the ground some time ago. Instead of crumpling it up and playing with it, however, he skims its contents, an eyeridge lifting. Locus makes his way through the crowd, parting it fairly easily. His bright blue back can be seen easily as he walks north, towards the slums. "Well, what do you expect, I was out cold." The reply is made harsher than intended. Then an apologetic expression is made. Basil watches Walter sit down, and as he does so, looks off into the crowd again, feeling terribly hopeless at the situation at present. "What are ya looking at?" The question is imposed in an attempt to take both of their minds off the current situation. Walter makes no indication that he heard the retort. Gray-green eyes remain riveted on the paper in his hands. When Basil asks about it, he wordlessly hands it over. It's another 'help wanted' ad, this time giving directions to some storage facility just at the outskirts of the city. Attention is given as Walter reads the paper in front of him. "Well, what is the worst that could happen." A light chuckle is made, and Basil once again attempts to stand, knowing they can't stay there forever. This time with a great deal of effort, he manages to stay on his feet. "Maybe we can check it out, if I can make it that far." The offer is made, but a little doubtful as Basil is still showing quite a bit of pain at the moment. He is managing though, for the most part. "Plenty," is Walter's reply. He regards Basil critically as the other ant gets up. "Maybe we should rest first," he suggests. "Who's going to want to hire us if we look too weak to lift a grain of sand?" Basil nods again to the affirmative, feeling a little embarassed at the suggestion. "Yeah, you have a point there." Basil bagins to head down the walkway to the empty alley he and Walter have been holding up shelter for the past several days. He then muses at the paper passed to him. "It says that they are looking for scroungers." A moment later, he contines. "Uh..." a light moan is emmitted. "Quite the, um complimentary job title eh? But then with the luck we've been having, it might just be the perfect job." A weak snicker is expressed, by another grunt. Walter gets up as well, biting on his lower lip in an effort to ignore that nice new bruise so generously given by Enzo. Once they are in the relative quietude of the alley, he flops on the ground and lies on his back. "Maybe," he says, shoulders twitching into a shrug. "I couldn't care less what the title is right about now, though, so long as it pays." Basil looks onward as he manages to continue to walk. "Yeah, I'm with you." A hiss of pain is made, then a few more steps are done before he speaks again. "Beats starving to death." Little else is spoken as they both arrive in the same course for their temporary home. [END LOG] Next Log: Scrounging for a Job Return to: Muted Identity logs.

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