DATE: August 19, 2001 CAST: Basil, Chales, Muffin, Terry and Walter Trailer - Kitchen Floor Your feet now rest on a linoleum floor, whose slick surface reflects the bright light shed by a strange fixture on the very, *very* high ceiling. To impede your path are crumbs, sticky puddles, and even strands of black hair from some sort of furry animal--something small compared to a human, but dangerous to a bug. You can still see the lower cabinet whence you came; it's open just a crack, convenient for any small insect. You might also be able to climb the tall, skinny broom leaning haphazardly against the counter. Across the wide-open space, you can see a huge doorway leading to another room distinguished by a shaggy carpet of the most hideous shade of green. The antlion dives into the fur biting into the cat eagerly...Wait....what's this? That long black stuff gets in the way of his mandibles, but that stuff under it...why, it tastes like the soft, tender insides of an ant. Could it be? Cats have no exoskeletons? Wow, this is amazing! The ant almost bites in too long, not that the cat would notice anything more then the initial *snip* but it flys backwards underneath the table, waiting for the cat to jump down. (Yes they can move backwards.) It's not sure what it's going to do. Perhaps it will wait until the cat makes an action, and try to flee. Perhaps it will be a brave, daring, (Aka rekless and foolish) antlion and wait until the cat jumps to the floor - and dive for its fur. It's not sure, so it waits. Wha...? Terry rubs her eyes briefly, then regards the sight once again, mouth open in amazement. No... her eyes didn't deceive her after all. That antlion just attacked a cat. Either he is very brave, very ignorant, or very suicidal. No matter what the reason, this sort of dangerous play could easily get the bug killed. Although she decides not to get directly involved yet, she doesn't retreat, either. Simply watches in disbelief. Muffin is a bit surprised, perhaps, but her enthusiasm isn't dampened by the bug's boldness. In fact, it only goads her into wanting to "play" with it even more. Thump! The black furball leaps to the ground, a luminous gaze whisking about in order to locate the antlion. The antlion makes a quick decision as the cat goes flying towards the ground. The antlion decides to be brave, daring, and heroic. (Although to anyone with more experience, it's being very stupid, and reckless) Mere minutes before, the antlion would have called anyone who tried to do this crazy...but although the cat has strength, speed, and sheer size on it's side, the antlion has everything else. Hopefully, stealth, agility, and intelligence are among those, although with the antlion trying to attack the monster of a a cat, that's debatable right now. The antlion dives towards the middle of the cat's spine as she jumps, as fast as he can go, attempting to get another bite in. Hey, this is dangerous, the antlion thinks for a moment...but it's kind of fun, too. Hopefully, the cat will have to take a moment to get at him, by which point he'll be gone - because he's in what he hopes is an akward position on her back. Terry scowls, clearly unimpressed with the antlion's show of pluck, or what she probably construes to be pure stupidity. "Idiot," she mutters, "Stupid idiot." For a moment, the grasshopper seems to consider intervening... but squashes that thought instantly. No. She may have one of the most dangerous jobs around, but she's not that careless with her life. If the antlion has a mind to commit suicide, that's his decision. She turns about and disappears inside the cabinet. Muffin ignores the departing grasshopper, her attention far too occupied with this one bug, this... less than prudent antlion. She makes a swipe at the antlion, but again misses, and winds up with the bug on her back. Craning her neck to see it, she turns around... and around... and around... until finally she flops over, with the clear intention of rolling over. The antlion digs through the fur for a moment, before reaching that...strange exoskeleton. Or whatever it is. All he knows is that it's quite tender, and tastes pretty good. And it's great fun. He continues to bite as the ant turns around and around, but as the cat flops over, he flies backwards, righting himself mid-flight, in a mad dash for the Cabinet. The kitty sprawls out on the ground, the back of her head flat against the white linoleum as she attempts to crush a bug that is no longer there. Mrf? Is that more movement? It doesn't take Muffin long to scrambles to her feet and chase after the antlion. Her claws audibly scrape across the ground's surface as she skids toward the retreating bug, taking a flying leap for the critter. Inside the cabinet, Basil manages to attempt to catch his breath. Then he absentmindedly goes over to the same dark, cold metal container, and begins lean his head against it. He suddenly realizes the container is the same deadly substance, he tumbles backwards, and lands on his back and abdomen. The events of the past couple of minutes have taken their tole, and he stays put, laying seemingly motionless. "This place is going to be the death of me!" Is exclaimed while a loud gasp is made. The antlion flies towards the cabinet, looking back over its shoulder as it does so. He sees the large beat flying through the air towards him, and quickly changes tactics. Better safe then sorry, he figures. Odd, considering he just twice now attacked a cat... Nevertheless, he does a u-turn and flies upwards, so that he'll be above the cat, if not in front of it. Hopefully, that'll prevent it from whapping him out of the sky. BAP! The kitty slams straight into the cabinet, temporarily shutting it and probably scattering the wits belonging to those hiding inside. Blinking in bewilderment, Muffin focuses her gaze upward, squinting at the little bugger flying up there. "AGH!" The source of the cry of distress is one of the ants hiding inside, namely Walter as the bump occurs, shutting out the light. He stumbles backwards as a result, tripping over some enigmatic object. A second later, and he's sprawled on the ground, a dazed heap. The thundering sound of the slam only serves to frighten Basil all the more. "I don't know how I'm going to survive all of this." The past three to four months of almost continuous pain, suffering, and torment has taken so much out of the poor ant, that he's on the verge of giving up. "Walter, I don't think I'm going to make it pal. If you make it back to Ant Island, tell them I lost it in some strange place, nearly eaten by some large black beast, and... Oh, never mind. They won't believe it. I'll just have to survive to tell them myself." Basil lifts his head, but then lets it fall back down again. Becoming quite oblivious to anything. Although the ominous slam of the door does startle Terry, the grasshopper does at least have enough presence of mind not to faint, cry out, or babble incoherently. A frown re-adopts its familiar position on her expression, while she eyes the area that formerly held a glimmer of light. She mutters something unflattering about cats and suicidal antlions. Amidst all this, her antennae twitch at Basil's words. "Pull yourself together and stop being foolish," she tells him, sternly. She moves over toward the fallen ants and reaches over to hoist them both back up to their feet, in a manner somewhat akin to an exasperated mother, fed up with childish antics. The antlion flies higher and higher up into the air, then darts towards the other room, still rising higher, hoping he can find another exit. Walter emits a slight groan. Somehow he manages to clamber to his shaking legs, with the grasshopper's assistance, and somehow he manages to stand up on his own. Obviously not the greatest first day of work--and heaven knows what the rest will be like, IF he summons up the courage to brave a second attempt. Muffin soon narrows in on the antlion's motion. But, for once, the cat decides not to follow. Bored with the game, the feline flops over on her side once more, and begins to groom her ruffled fur. Darn bug messed it all up. Attempting to make his way to his feet, Basil accepts the assistance of Terry in gaining a vertical position. "Thanks... For saving our lives, and everything." It's still quite a dizzying feeling he has, but manages to take a few steps without feeling vertigo. Basil never would have imagined his life being /saved/ by a grasshopper, regardless of whether it was because of her trying to save her job, or whatnot. The antlion flies around the living room frantically, looking for a way out admist the seemingly endless walls and floor....eventually finding an open window and flying back out to freedom. "Don't mention it," the grasshopper replies. Adjusting her hold an a now very bedraggled cloth container, she motions toward the hole in the back of the cabinet area. "Now let's get back to the warehouse." It's all Walter can do to stumble towards the aforesaid hole, without losing his balance or bumping into anything. Although still somewhat in a daze, he takes care not to come in contact with anything that might contain a deadly dose of pesticide. "I don't know that this is much better than starving in an alley," he murmurs distantly. "I think I have to agree with you, Walter." A sluggish, and muttered response is made to his friend's rejoinder. It also takes as much effort as *he* can muster. But Basil also manages to make his way out without tripping, falling, or smacking his head on anything. "But if anyone could stop the ground from shaking, I would appreciate it." The exit is made by this rather dizzy, and lubering ant. Chales, once free, decides to fly back around the trailer towards the hole, wondering if that strange grasshopper and those two thin looking ants will be there. With a solemn shake of her head, Terry follows the ants outside. What a night. Outside the Trailer Dominating your view is the trailer, an enormous man-made marvel whose size dwarfs the tallest cardboard buildings you'll ever find. It's a humbling sight for many tiny insects beholding it for the first time. Next to this massive structure is a crate of rotting wood, decorated by a single fading word: "Apples." It looks totally devoid of apples. Another scrap of wood leans diagonally against the crate, conveniently serving as a ramp to what looks like a small 'hole' in the trailer's aluminum siding. You can see a well-beaten path winding away from here, leading towards the city entrance. Ugh. The fates are all out to get them, Walter is sure of it. The ant stumbles through the hole and onto the conveniently placed wooden ramp, rubbing the space between his antennae distractedly. "Do things like that *always* happen in this scrounging business...?" he wonders aloud, limply leaning his weight against the trailer's aluminum siding. Slowly emerging from the trailer, Basil can hardly keep his speed or his balance. The expression made by Walter is also shared by he as he make his way toward the warehouse. "I don't suppose we could train next time without Muffin involved," Basil jocularly comments. Then a more serious thought crosses his mind. "I hope we get a day or two to rest up, I don't think I can go back in there tomorrow, in this same shape." Not that his shape can take a whole lot more punishment, one way or the other. "We'll see about letting you use your days off ahead of time," Terry assures them, stoically heading down the wooden platform, whilst tossing her satchel onto her other shoulder. "Although I sympathize with your situation, bugs working in your condition in this kind of occupation is ridiculous, and I honestly don't know what Gresham was thinking." Heaving a sigh, Walter slowly and painfully pushes himself away from the trailer's siding and, with some effort, plods after Terry. He nods his head slowly in response to the grasshopper's words, but does little more. It's hard enough just staying upright. In the distance, a small black form can be seen, growing steadily larger. Within moments, a large black insect can be seen flying down towards the ramp. It's the antlion from inside the trailer, and it appears to be grinning in pride and amusement. It would seem that a least a little relief is in site. "Thanks." Is the only thing that is uttered then a long, slow and labored inhale is made. "I just hope we survive to pay day. Which reminds me, when /do/ we get paid for our work." Basil hopes that it isn't too much longer until they can get some substantial nourishment. Then as he's about to say more, the black dot in the sky catches his attention, and as the antlion approaches, Basil jumps back and nearly falls off the ramp they are walking on, rolling into a ball in fear. Walter is in no better condition to receive the antlion's second 'dramatic entrance'. Startled, the ant trips over a rough spot on the wood, and spills onto his back. "Oof... ow. Ow. Ow." So much distracted with trying to recuperate from his fall that he no longer pays any heed to Basil, Terry, or the antlion. Terry's mouth moves to formulate a response, but that plan is cut off immediately as the antlion makes his presence known once again. The grasshopper stops, shifting her weight onto one foot as she regards the other winged insect disapprovingly. "So, I see you survived. Mind telling me what possessed you to attack a cat of all things? That's suicide." The antlion hovers in the air above the ramp, his six legs waving back and forth. His head turns towards Basil, but quickly moves back towards Terry. "I'm alive, arn't I?" the antlion says matter of factly.. "Besides," he adds, "If you time it right, I guess you can use their size against them." He glances towards Basil, then inquires, "Are those two your dinner? For some reason they didn't march into my mouth..." Basil is essentially beyond clear rational thinking. Still rolled up into a tight ball, he trembles, with antennae twitching. A simple glance is made at the antlion, and his mind whirls again. "Pleased stay away from me," is whispered in a trembling tone. Basil can hardly keep his wits about him. Then the statement, about he and Walter belonging to Terry is made. "Did I hear you right?" He then stops shaking, and stands up to clear his head. It would seem that the antlion has no immediate intentions of harm, but he is confused at the statement. "What did you mean by us marching into your mouth?" A stern expression is passed, with arms akimbo. The word 'dinner' gets Walter's attention real quick. The ant's eyes widen in dismay. A sudden surge of andrenaline enables him to jolt to his feet and stumble back slightly, away from this specimen, quivering. Terry's eyes narrow suddenly, while she looks this antlion over with more attention. He must have just broken out of his old skin, or he wouldn't be so rash as to ask such a thing -- right? "No," she informs him severely, folding her arms. "These are my coworkers. I don't know what your childhood's been like, but if you've been eating what I think you have, you should know that eating another insect is a punishable crime around here. Not even spiders can get away with it. I suggest you alter your diet and concentrate on something less... sentient." Chales looks at Basil, then Walter. He stares at Terry in confusion...Not eat ants? Why would he not want to eat ants? Sure the ants wouldn't want him too...but what would a grasshopper care. He looks at Terry in confusion, "What the..." he says out loud, "Why would you care if I ate ants? I mean, sheesh...they walked into my mouth all the time. Who in their right mind would punish me for eating?" Eyes go much wider, and a feeling of dread comes over him, it's more than he can deal with. Anger begins to flow, motivated by too much abuse and pain he's felt lately. "I'll tell you what is wrong with it! Any one insect's life is *no* more important than another's." A short pause is made to gain his breath. "You can't *possibly* expect any living breathing bug to simply do such an insane thing in their right mind!" Basil is to the point of lividity. "Do you have no respect for the life of another insect?!?" Control is barely within his grasp. Walter is on the verge of a fainting fit--or a vomiting fit. It's hard to say. At any rate, his face pales, his eyes stretch open further, and he slinks further behind Terry... making sure she is kept between him and that antlion. Brrr. "What do you mean why would I care?!" Terry fairly explodes right along with Basil, all four hands clenched into tight fists, mahogany eyes flashing. "Would you cling to your opinion if you met a spider whose logic is exactly the same as yours? If you were caught in her web and she decided to devour you, would you take back what you just said?" Strange, a grasshopper defending ants. Stereotypically speaking, that's rarely the case. Chales just looks around in more confusion. "Well, then I would be eaten," the antlion says matter of factly, as if the grasshopper is silly for even asking such a thing. He turns towards Basil, "What *are* you talking about? Bugs do it all the time...heck, ants have lined up to run into my mouth my entire life!" The antlion shakes his head, "Really, I do have a respect for life, but it's just the way things are. There's no way around it that I can see." "I can't believe what I'm hearing!" Basil shouts out with anger in his voice, then sits down, a deep seeded look of fire in his eyes showing at the antlion before him. "You have a funny way of showing respect for life." An expression is given and a look is cast to where Walter is trembling in horror. Basil simply can't believe everything that has happened to them. For slave labor in a strawberry field to debating their lives with a mortal enemy, and being defended by a mortal enemy. Identities muted and skewed. Apparently Walter still doesn't have much to say for himself. Still too much overcome by the horror they're faced with. Even having this grasshopper there to defend them isn't much comfort, evidently. Heaving a shaky sigh, he rubs his face with the palms of his hands slowly, as if to wipe away the sight of this antlion. Terry remains silent for many seconds, arms held firmly at her sides, hands balled up into fists, eyes glowering. Many retorts and comments flit through her mind, and each one is given the due consideration for about a fraction of a second, before she finally decides on one: "Get out of my sight," she tells the antlion coldly. The antlion shrugs, "Well, if you've never tried fresh ant, you can't tell me not to eat it. Besides, I'm an Antlion. Remember, Antlion? Theres nothing else I can eat." The antlion begins to rise into the air. The anger felt inside melts away to fear again as the antlion suddenly rises into the air Now he too has moved as quickly as possible to find protection and shelter behind Terry. Eyes going wide, Basil can only imagine the worst that the mortal danger before him intends. There just seems to be no way to persuade him to change his mind. Now there is little to do, but to wait and see what the outcome is, hoping for the best, fearing the worst. Walter follows suit, drawing closer behind Terry--funny, he never imagined himself looking to a grasshopper for help--in order to be better shielded from the antlion. "Oh my g... at least the slavers have the decency to just use ants for labor," he murmurs, suppressing a shudder at the idea of slavers using them for *food*, or some such thing. And he thought slaving on a strawberry plantation was bad. Terry doesn't budge as the antlion becomes airborne. The grasshopper stands arrow-straight, her glaring eyes never leaving the other's visual orbs for an instant. Waiting for him to make the first move. The antlion starts to flybackwards and away - apparently it was going to fly away, but he instead turns towards Terry as he realizes that he is being stared at. "I find it hard to beleive that a spider would refuse to eat insects." He begins to fly away, then turns around again, "Oh, and if you honestly think you can find something other then ants and aphids for me to eat, I'd be very surprised. As it is, I'm full on cat. But don't suggest for a minute that I go on a cat diet. I'm not stupid." He begins to slowly fly away. After the comments made, and the antlion finally departs, Basil is finally able to relax. This takes the form of him dropping his head down, panting heavily with antennae bobbing up and down several times. "Oh I thought I was a dead ant a moment ago." He then walks as best as he can so he can face Terry, and with a solemn expression, looks up at her, and with deeply released exhale says: "I don't know exactly why you saved our lives, but you will always have my gratitude." A genuine smile is given. Walter releases a shaky breath of relief as the antlion finally decides to leave. "Y-yeah... thanks for, uh, everything." The look of uneasiness doesn't leave the ant, however, and he looks over the area studiously, perhaps to keep an eye out for another one of those antlions, or a similar thing that has a mind to dine on ant sooner or later. Terry remains standing in place for many seconds, now shaking visibly -- not in fear, but in rage. She simply nods stiffly, distractedly at Basil, while her expression evolves from anger, to... anxiety. Taking several deep breaths, she grips the handle of her satchel more tightly than ever as she begins to walking down the ramp, eyes troubled and distant. "This can't be," she murmurs to herself. "A thing like that in the city... if..." she trails off, not saying more. Following Terry, is Basil. Glad to be in one piece. After being chased by a cat, airlifted by a grasshopper, pulling desperately on Walter, and then having his life threatened by an antlion, he's about had it for one day. It's hard to imagine what could be going on inside the mind of an ant who's been through such an ordeal, but suffice it to say, that he's either going to be sleeping for a long time, or be plagued by nightmares for the next several nights. Or perhaps both, all things considered. Following Basil, who is following Terry, is Walter. However, he doesn't even seem aware of it, or much of anything else. With mechanical footfalls he trails behind, eyes lowered, expression blank... numb. Being subjected to so many horrors in one day has drained him of even the energy to show further emotion for now. Terry almost makes it as far as the warehouse, then finally eases her footfalls to a stop. She glances over her shoulder suddenly, regarding the ants with a troubled frown. "With an ant-killer on the loose, you're going to need some kind of shelter." Technically this is not a question, but a statement. But one might detect the question behind it: do the ants have more than an alley to spend their nights? Looking up at Terry, Basil notices her suddenly stop and make her inquiry as to their living arrangements, and the threat of an antlion in the city. "As a matter of fact, we are currently living in an a deserted alley in the city, but now that you mention it, with that guy on our tails, we'd be vulnerable." A frightened expression is made, as more hopelessness ensues. "But we have nowhere else to stay, and with no money to pay for rent, we're rather out of luck." No response comes from Walter, nothing but silence. For the moment, he just feels more dead than alive. He vaguely feels a slight itch on his shoulder, but doesn't even bother to attend to it. Emitting an inaudible sigh, he simply stands off to the side, waiting, letting things happen, and doing absolutely nothing about it. "You'll need to get one as soon as possible," Terry informs him simply. After a moment, she folds her upper arms and turns so that she partially faces them. "Until then," she continues, "my own apartment is an option." Finally looking back and noticing Walter's countenance, as a feeling of dread and fear grips him. They aren't going to survive in their current situation. So as the offer is made, and despite the feeling of imposing touches Basil's countenance, common sense prevails. "Thank you. I think I can speak for both of us," Basil nods his head back toward Walter, whom he assumes in his current state will be most likely not be wanting to make a dramatic response, "that is a very generous offer, and under the circumstances, we accept your offer, graciously. If there is any way for us to return the favor, please let us know." [END LOG] Next Log: Lesser of Two Evils Return to: Muted Identity logs.

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