It's The Great Pumpkin, Wesley Brown


mariana_icon.jpg wesley_icon.jpg scrivner_icon.jpg vette_icon.jpg

Scene Title It's The Great Pumpkin, Wesley Brown
Synopsis The Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch to wreak havoc on Battery Park. Scrivner was the storyteller for this scene.

Battery Park - Lower Manhattan - New York City

Ringed by statues and monuments, this park is named after the cannon that were once stationed here. A swath of green on the southern tip of Manhattan Island, it is an escape from the bustle of the city. Battery Park is as far south as you can go in Manhattan. It offers an expanse of green from which to view the harbor and the Statue of Liberty. The 23-acre park is where the colony of new Amsterdam first began more than three centuries ago. The skyline of southern Manhattan and Wall Street is clearly visible from the park, the huge buildings dominating the view to the north and east. The trees do often hide the view, however, growing thickly around many sections of the park. Looking the other way is the harbor and Liberty Island, where the Statue of Liberty stands out to sea. During the day, flocks of tourists can be seen, putting money into telescopes to see the famous statue. Many choose to venture down to the Port and onto the ferry-boats which shuttle vistors back and forth to Ellis and Liberty Islands. Off to the north, at the edge of the Park, a huge building stands serving no purpose other than pumping air into the Brooklyn-Battery tunnel.

It's a very late night in New York city. It's the sort of night that has crisp, clear skies above with the stars drowned out by sickly, orange-tinted light pollution, the kind of night for coats, jackets or sweaters. With Halloween on the horizon, all the stores are selling their Halloween at low, low prices.

But of course, none of that really matters. People who were walking around in Battery Park are instead running and screaming. Why? Because there's something there that should not be. The other day it was a cathedral. Tonight, it's a twenty foot scarecrow. It ambles forward with a pumpkin for a head, an old flannel shirt, denim jeans and bare, rotten feet protruding from the cuffs. There's flesh in that body, flesh that stinks of rotting, sickly-sweet meat with a sharp, painful edge to sensitive noses.

As it's only just exploded out of whatever hole in reality it came out of, the police have not yet arrived, but any Scions nearby will surely have heard it the roar.

Vette comes running up, dodging a few of the people who are trying to get away. She stares at this thing and mutters, "Lionus never had it so good." She refers, of course, to the Great Pumpkin. To make sure that it leaves the mortals alone, she pitches her voice high, puts her hands on her hips, and says, "Hey! Ugly! Pick on something your own mythology class!" Nerds don't do one liners well.

Walking through the park with Mariana, mostly for the hell of it, Wesley's been playing his red Gretsch G5135 electric guitar as he walks down a path, just generally strumming. "Mariana, you're like a trench, crushing divers, like a badass bench!" He's not the best with lyrics, but he's clearly trying to please her with music!

When he hears the roar, he slides the guitar around to his back and starts running toward it, spotting the twenty-foot scarecrow before promptly cracking his knuckles. "I'm not a crow."

Strolling forward during this, what should have been peaceful, autumn night, Mariana at least offers a very faint smile at the singing, though she more appreciates the actual tune being played on the guitar rather than the lyrics. The lyrics puzzle her… She lets Wesley sing, not even bothering to question him since he seems content to be doing just that.

The piercing roar that echoes through the area and more than scatters just a few park goers away, is what captures all of her attention now and immediately she goes for her dagger, which had been returned to her earlier. She, too, at least knows about the Great Pumpkin, "So this is what Linus has been waiting for all this time… If he only knew, he wouldn't go wasting his nights."

Rufus had been trying to place an order for Chinese when he heard that roar, and so he's right at Vette's heels when she goes running up to the scarecrow, his sword already in hand. "Oh, bloody Hell… Halloween isn't for another week yet!" he complains, the moment he sees the thing that's looming over the park.

Perhaps it can /smell/ the blood of do-gooders approaching, for the Scarecrow turns its great, huge, bulbous orange head and leers down at the four approaching Scions. Firelight burns inside of its hollow head, shining through triangular eyes, a round nose and rows upon rows of teeth that aren't the friendly, usual squares but sharp, pointed and long. They've gotten its attention, what with all the yelling and such.

Heeeeere we go. This is where Rufus goes madly running forward, leaping up into the air like a jackrabbit on speed, whereupon he draws back his arms and swipes at the scarecrow with his sword. It… doesn't appear to do much good, as the solid flesh and straw coating beneath the clothing take it without any blood or ichor being spilled.

Vette eyes the size of the thing and considers her itty bitty little gun. Then she settles down onto the earth, placing her hands on the warm soil. Dirt Girl's normal MO is to sink something into the earth and then solidify it into concrete, or send whips around it to hold it. But she's thinking this is big, and heavy. So she focuses on transforming the earth beneath its feet into something like quicksand, where its very weight and movement can start to work against it. She's not sure how long it will take, or how much more concentration is inherent in turning dirt to a liquid to a semi-liquid instead of to a solid—but she's thinking it's probably going to be a better shot than other ideas she has up her seleve today. Especially given that Rufus' sword just seemed to not so much as worry it one little bit.

"I've got this." Wesley says with a confident grin, his killing intent suddenly thick in the air, causing mortals to walk around him even while running away from the pumpkin. "You're really freakin' big, nice and dangerous, just what I needed to get my berserking going. You better hit hard." Then, pulling his guitar from his back, he leaps into the air and swings his guitar, trying to smack the pumpkin in the side of the head.

With her dagger held firmly within her grasp, Mariana continues with her forward motion, though considers actually going for a direct attack. Calculating a few possible courses of action in her mind, she decides to take the plunge and test her might if only to help in distracting the creature, so that it doesn't focus on any one person. Drawing back her weapon, she lunges forward in the hopes of slashing away at some of that hay, at her position, she doesn't quite see what Scrivner does, so there is a desire to get to the center of this creature and make it bleed. I mean, what else could be underneath all that straw. "Did Farmer Brown give you permission to go out tonight? Did he dress you too?"

The Scarecrow turns its broad head and fixes its attention solely upon one man in the group swarming around it, the man who just radiates that killing, hot rage. Straw creaks and cracks as it turns its body, even as the ground around it slowly thickens and churns. The wind whistles as it comes swooping down, bending slowly and /whacking/ out its arm towards the little man…

The Scarecrow turns its broad head and fixes its attention solely upon one man in the group swarming around it, the man who just radiates that killing, hot rage. Straw creaks and cracks as it turns its body, even as the ground around it slowly thickens and churns. The wind whistles as it comes swooping down, bending slowly and /whacking/ out its arm towards the little man…

It's hard not to feel the aura of vicious rage that his fellow Scion is exuding. Even Scrivner feels a chill running down his spine as he makes a landing on the ground off to one side of the Scarecrow. Whirling around, brandishing his sword, his icy eyes find Wesley before he forces himself to look away. He snarls and bares his teeth, and another impossibly high leap takes him back up into the air, drawing back his arm to slash at the Scarecrow as he passes over it.

Unlike the others, Mariana doesn't share the same freedom to strike high and hard, so she resorts to sticking to the roots in her attempt to topple the straw beast! With the scarecrow's feet slowly being sucked into the suddenly murky soil of the ground, she does a careful dance to weave in close to the monster and slash at it in her own frenzy, as if she were trying to amputate its legs from its sticky feet. Wesley's own aura distracts her for the moment, giving her a sense of unease.

After missing the Scarecrow, Wesley lands against the side of a large tree and quickly propels himself back up to dodge the Scarecrow's attack and move in for another, his body spinning in a fast ball before he suddenly stretched out and attempts to use the momentum to slam the edge of the guitar into the pumpkin's head. "Something as big as you shouldn't be dodging me! Throw a harder punch, I need it!" he demands, vicious with great abandon in his attacks.

She's focused on the earth, ignoring almost everything else. The earth has a heartbeat, to her. She sometimes imagines she can just merge with it mentally, to feel what it would be like to be THE Earth. The earth that's now boiling, sandy, sucking down, down, down—layers of earth that she's shifting, changing, turning to quicksand, just moving down from what is to what is 'not', intent on pulling him down, dragging him down, the Earth, swallowing something that does not belong on her surface…thrum thrum…thrum thrum. The actual effects may be less dramatic, but in the trance she has adopted, that is what she sees.

Scrivner is going to take advantage of the thing's distraction. Again and again, he leaps up into the air, slashing at the Scarecrow as hard and as fast as he can, trying to take the thing's head off or at least cut it a few more holes.

As for the Scarecrow? It's showing damage. It's sunk up to its waist in the earth, and at this rate, Vette might just bury it completely. Mud and dirt get thrown everywhere as it struggles, and with a roar of flames and rage, it turns its gaze back down upon Wesley. Somehow… /somehow/ that Scion has to be responsible for this. He's the one radiating the killing rage, that sensation that gets it sparking wilder and wilder in its own beserker fury.

There is no complaint coming from Mariana when the scarecrow continues to sink deeper and deeper into the muck. At least, she doesn't have to worry about dodging badly worn old stomping boots, most likely with holes in them, being worn by dry straw feet. On a human form, she can pinpoint their weak spots and take a stab at that, but on a scarecrow? She simply continues doing what she's been doing all along. Most of the areas which are struck begin to be covered in dirt and soil as it sinks even further. Of course, this does make Mariana wary as its hands and flailing arms are much closer to her than they were when the thing was standing at full height. This doesn't stop her from driving that dagger of hers further into its midsection, but at this point, there is far more padding there than in its scrawny scarecrow legs, so it's a tough fight!

Wesley dodges the Scarecrow's attack again, leaping into the air as his guitar's strap stretches out. He dives down, fast, rapidly swinging his guitar in blurring circles above his head as he rockets down toward the Pumpkin head. "You're no where near a worthy opponent if you can't even hit me! You've outlived your worth, so I think I'll make a big splatter for my woman!" Then he goes to slam his fist into the head, intending to try and break through the inside so he can shread it apart with his guitar.

As a result of the slicing of Scrivner's sword, the sinking of its weight into the earth from Vette's shaping, the big ass punch through the head from Wesley… and yes, even as a result of Mariana's little dagger, the Scarecrow with the pumpkin head shatters apart. The structure grows too unstable to maintain its grip on reality. Pumpkin bits fly everywhere. Pulp splatters, the fire dies, and there's a deep, pained groan as the body jerks ones in its death throes, then goes still.

Rufus lands a distance away, covered in pumpkin gore. "Augh," he growls, as he reaches up to flick a strand of pulp the size of rope off of his shoulder. "Bloody /Hell./"

It is the cold slap of pumpkin gore that breaks Vette from her trance, and she looks down to find her legs half sunken in mud that is all but hugging them. She blinks a few times, like someone just waking up from a long nap, and says, "Oh. It's dead." As if she really and truly had to catch up with that notion in her head.

Mariana was absolutely fine cutting through the dried straw, even it did get all over her expensive clothes. Though, hearing Wesley make small aggressive macho chit-chat to the pumpkin head does pull at some of her attention even as she's attempting to slash the monster to ribbons! Maybe it's just a particular something that he utters, but before she even has the chance to ask, the thing explodes, splattering the immediate area and beyond with it's gooey pumpkin sick. Blood is one thing. Pumpkin guts is another. And Mariana isn't entirely happy about this! "I swear, I am ready to send some Titan my dry cleaning bill."

Buried in the midst of the pumpkin's head, his guitar suddenly rips through the side of one of the remaining pieces, then the rest of his body walks out, looking around until he spots Mariana. "I need to get my guitar cleaned again. Mariana, let's go home, this thing pissed me off and I didn't even get to berserk." He shakes his head, the murderous aura gradually dying down as he walks in the direction he came from, pieces of pumpkin falling from his shoulder and instrument.

"I wonder if this is actually edible," Rufus muses as he flicks off some more pulp. Quickly, he sheathes his sword in the scabbard across his back, and he turns on the ball of his foot to search out Mariana and Wesley. He lifts his hands to cup his mouth, calling out, "I say! Are you both all right?"

"I so would not risk it," Vette murmurs. "If you want pumpkin pie we can go to the market and get a pumpkin that hasn't been infused with ick." She stands up, brushing mud off her pants, and peers over at Mariana and Wesley.

"Your woman?" Mariana only now asks once she spots Wesley tearing his way out of the giant pumpkin. A look is then given to both Scrivner and Vette, when she offers a smile despite the pumpkin goo on her, "We're fine thank you. I'm afraid that I never got a chance to get either of your names the first… or second time that we met."

"I like to think you are. You care if I say it to a monster?" Wesley asks as he continues walking, only briefly waving back at the others without turning his head, strapping his guitar to his back again. "I hate pumpkin."

"Rufus Scrivner!" the man calls out. He'll let the lady at his side call out her own name. "Do be careful!" That'll suffice for a farewell. He begins to turn away from the other couple, his eyes flickering back to Vette. "Actually," he murmurs. "I rather /do/ fancy some pie. Would you please bury this thing? I shall buy you a slice and a cup of tea, if you do."

"Vette, Vette Adams," Vette calls. She'd dropped the dagger off at the hospital the other day. And then? She sinks the rest of the creature into the earth and murmurs, "You do know how to speak my language, darling."

"It's a pleasure to run into you both again then." Mariana chimes out to the pair, before she is just fascinated when the remainder of the scarecrow/pumpkin things starts to sink into the hungry earth. "That's definitely a neat trick.." She has to murmur, "And thank you for your assistance in the cathedral as well." To Wesley, however, she arches a brow when she states, "Let me think on that one."

Scrivner was the Storyteller for this scene.

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