Three Days
('She Shook Me' by Pain Teens)
Andromeda wears a sleeved coat with a hood, the color of concrete in shadow, drifting beneath a dark parachute over the modern city. The Orson disappears above her and behind with the sound of thunder and compression of wind filling it's void, tugging her back a jolt.
Morgan - Voiced over while Andromeda takes the city in drifting closer, "We thank you for the offer of Sanctuary's armies to the cause of the Sabines, but I fear we must decline. In Sanctuary's rapid growth I see danger as I know your armies would over run ours in even shared interest. This only highlights why we must do this among our own, if even to fail."
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Andromeda remembers while drifting ~
Morgan - On the deck overlooking the city, "It's something everyone has to do. Three days with nothing but basic clothes and a knife."
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She guides her descent steering around the lights to side watching cars watching windows with motion, sirens sounding beneath her, distant shots, an airplane flies over.
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Kurukulla - Hands her two long tooth blades. "From your kill. Captain says you get two for your trip because they're a set."
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She watches the shadows move beneath, now away from siren and sound, moving away further near the water.
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Andromeda - Morgan holding her from behind as they look over the city, "This is where you're from, isn't it ? This world."
Morgan - "A long time ago." She points over Andromeda's shoulder into the night sky, "Look. There's your constellation."
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Morgan - Voiced over as Andromeda drifts, "I personally have to mistrust any force so powerful, risen so quickly and with Sanctuary's rumored fluctuations in leadership, I can trust nothing there until consistency is shown. I can only ask that you let us take care of our own."
Andromeda drifts to a landing near warehouses and water, disconnects her chute runs to the shadows between two parked cars and slides underneath as a police car spotlights the area, then drives around slowly until it's gone with the sound of static communication.
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Andromeda turns and kisses Morgan, slipping her gun and one of the knives into her belt.
Xquic and Lieu Hanh grin and high five.
Morgan - A tear, "I'm so sorry."
She pushes Andromeda off the plank.
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Morgan - Voiced over. "Please if you would instead prepare for the arrival of the Sabines, should they seek Sanctuary, being far better outfitted to offer that than we. We also ask formal declaration of Sanctuary's rulership, that we may report it to the marketplace as the rumors are now beyond reason."
Three shadows watch the police depart as well from behind other cars and corners, then move closer to Andromeda. In the darkness form is unclear with the wisps of dark fabric marked only by a slight fluttering sound.
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Morgan - Quilling letter on parchment in the fade to darkness, "And if that's you, Lucretia, I'm very sorry to hear the rumors I've heard. Please inform me of the situation."
"My best wishes,"
"Morgan."
~ Day One ~
(This introduces the way I'd like to treat 'real world' environments in general. The tone is as a fairy tale would describe it in a fairy tale of their own, of a strange and distant land.)
Andromeda watches the homeless camp at meals from the bushes across the lot from her landing ~
Morgan - Voiced over. "We cannot change history as it doesn't exist in any law. There is only now, and the reasons why. Just tales of how we got here. We can't take history itself, but we can still take it's soul."
Strong males stroll too proudly down the middle of the camp, displaying as they acknowledge each other in passing, while others look down from them, huddled quietly. They stare boldly at the police who drive by slowly, spotlighting darting around as beer is hidden and pipes are pocketed.
"We can bring one story to life and give it power, and in another take that power away in the minds of those who seek those reasons why. So when I say that we strike at the heart of Rome, I mean it quite specifically."
A crackling voice from in the car, a short blast from their siren and a skidding departure, a double blast of sound as it passes the crossroads and disappears down the long bridge crossing the nearby river.
To the city at night ~
"Morgan."
A man's voice behind Andromeda - "See anything you like ?"
She cannonballs past him and his two friends across the adjacent lot and over cars, into shadow with a turn looking back while no one is there. From deep in other shadows there's motion unnoticed and a sound of fluttering then heard as she spins with knife drawn to see nothing there either.
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Morgan stomps singed and cursing, clothes still smoking into the engine room, still in an obviously early form, the engine half connected.
Morgan - "Damn it ! What the hell's wrong with this thing !?"
Amelia - Fixing connections, "What !? It works !"
Morgan - "This isn't time travel ! What the hell is this ?!"
Amelia - "Morgan. It isn't up to you. I'm sorry. It just does what it does and it isn't going to do that. There's nothing wrong with it."
Morgan - Glares at her and smokes her pipe. She takes a deep breath, "Look. You could be the best engineer in all the history I've seen. I accept that. So why the hell does it only travel into stories ? How is that even possible ?"
Amelia - Sits and stares at the sphere. "There is no history, no future. Only now ... I was wrong too, I just didn't get so mad about it. That's not helpful you know. Gimme." She flops her hand at Morgan's pipe.
Morgan - "You didn't just get chased through 'grabby hand forest' by a firebombing witch on a broom !" She hands Amelia her pipe, "How the hell does a broom fly and this damn thing ..." Motioning to the engine before exhaling to calm.
Amelia - Shoving the pipe into her motioning hand, "Did she hit the trees ? With the fire ?"
Morgan stares annoyed.
Amelia - "You need to think more positively is all I'm saying. Anyway. I think it's alive."
Morgan - Furrowed brow. "According to everything we know it's a singularity. It functions as a universe removed from ours. And according to half the laws, it functionally is the universe. So now you're saying the universe is alive ?"
Amelia - "Gimme." She takes the pipe and smokes deeply before holding in, staring down her nose at the engine. "Has to be for the experiment to yield these results. I know you hate philosophy ...", she croaks.
Morgan - "Oh no. Don't you do it." Laughing, "Give me that. You're done !"
Amelia - Laughing an exhale, "I'm sorry Captain but it's my duty to inform you that your engine is alive, and we've been popping around in it's imagination. Hopefully it is a reflection of the universe and not just some random psycho, right ?"
Morgan - "That's the best you've got ?"
Amelia - "Got better ?"
Morgan - Staring to the engine ... "The entire universe as a singular network ... neurons spread through intertwining physics ... okay. A brain. If we accept that then the best we can do is alter it's memory to direct it's future choices."
Amelia - "Hm. Well, that's kind of evil ... by the way ... but yes. I was thinking more along the line of easing the pain it's suffered through history ... but it comes along about the same. We can't change the present or the past."
Morgan - "Only how the past is remembered and thus the future. Alright. Test that theory and see if it steers a boat."
Amelia - After a long pause passes staring at the engine. "I wonder if it's God ..."
Morgan - "Don't."
Amelia - "But it ...!"
Morgan - "! Nope !" Getting up, she grabs the pipe and leaves the engine room yelling, "You just fix that damn thing while I figure out what kind of fine story you've gotten us into this time !"
Amelia goes back to staring at it, then smiles.
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Andromeda sights a quiet tree from the lot overlooking, runs to climb it before settling in to sleep between two crossed boughs, knife in hand, curled into her coat, closing her eyes ...
Voices in darkness.
Mother to daughter - "Sleep !"
Daughter "No !"
Mother - "Story ... ?"
Daughter - "... fine."
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The view of the Sun, from a stationary point as extremely fast, camera shaking as though it were a rocket, ever watching the Moon as they arc a curve around the Earth. Exploding sounds of furnace and fury as it swings it's arc toward the distant Moon.
Mother - Narrating, "Before we were here, before the Earth had a name, the Sun even then loved the Moon. He would chase her fiercely across the sky while the Moon playfully taunted him to catch her. They were young in those days ... playful and indulgent."
Background objects framed to show great speed and focus in it's pursuit. The story narrates these scenes, the speakers never shown. Note that when I call the passing of time by the sun and moon later, it's in this way.
Daughter - "Like me !"
Mother - "You're playful. I'm indulgent."
Daughter - "I'll indulge you that. Continue."
Mother - "You got it from me."
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Andromeda wakes to the sound of traffic and babble beneath her.
The sun rises bright in her eyes as she stretches and waits for silence beneath. Swinging down between the noise, she lands crouched behind it, stands and peers around, straightening her clothes and adjusting her belt and knife, rebelting her hooded coat.
She appears conservatively dressed in the daylight, thought stylishly hooded with gloved hands in pockets. She mingles casually into the crowd of commuters wearing similar colors, greys and blacks all.
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The Moon watches the Sun burning after as the Earth's shadow passes over her, but her face is turned to the Earth. In time the Sun passes from view as her view is fixated.
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Motion stops at the crossroads. She watches the people watching the lights, sees the cars stopped and watches those lights go green, that one white, everyone walks. She follows, crossing the long high bridge toward the downtown sounds.
Mother - "But the Moon never turns from the Earth. As it passes burning behind her she whispers 'thank you' while watching her shadow pass over her lover."
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The wind from a behind passing bus just feet away from the bridge walk catches under her coat and pushes her a bit to the rail. She looks far down into the greenish hued water. Garbage ...
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The Moon's shadow crosses the Earth, turning to it.
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Andromeda watches swinging shoulders of the proud and learns, a slight swivel in the shoulder sockets in some, broad chest in others as stone, stretching the shoulders back, swinging them as one.
She then observes the heeled shoes walking in front of her. The ankles wobble uncomfortably though slight, as Andromeda looks up the legs to the tight fabric skirt, legs working against it.
She looks then to the proud shouldered men looking at the walker, looking at her, looking at others ...
Behind her among the crowd shadows are more formed as walkers following as one person then the next, ever closer. Each time the crowds heads turn at once they spin forward and between, ever closer, ducking beneath views and behind distractions.
In a dulled mix of urban noise, Andromeda hears their fabrics rustling sharply.
She lowers her head in her hood and walks as the rest, attempting to shorten her step and mimic the toe walk of the woman in front of her with shortened steps, arcing off the curled foot to leap between steps in her flat dress boots, black with a combat heel lifted.
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Mother - "They three speak only in shadow and reflection as they pass."
Daughter - "Does the Sun ever get jealous ?"
Mother - "I suppose that he must ! But the Sun loves the Moon so much to help meet with the Earth, every single night."
Daughter - "I think the Sun must love the Earth too."
Mother - Giggling, "Maybe that's why the Sun doesn't mind. It's a show !"
Daughter - "! Mother !"
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The men look at the women, the women look at the mannequined windows, the mannequins staring back in cold judgement. The next window is a men's display and all look down.
The sun begins setting across the sky ...
As the streets slowly clear, the movement of the three shadows among the crowd is more apparent. Hooded and masked, wearing goggles they spin through the crowd in every moment when no one looks.
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The sun watches from it's side as the shadow passes from the Earth and the turns it's gaze to the moon which ever faces it. It moves away watching them, then blocked by the Earth.
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Daughter - "And that's why she protects us in the night."
Mother - "But not in the day."
Daughter - "And that's why we only go out at night. The ! End."
Mother - "Yes Morgan. The end. Now go to bed."
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Armored soldiers march from the mountains filling boats for war ~
Morgan sits at a table, Amelia standing beside her on the yet to be developed beach with a minimal harbor and small marketplace before the yet ungated circle of mountains.
Behind them a board is set on a post, reading 'Skilled Crew Required'. All around them the people go on about their day, ignoring them.
Amelia - "So this is how you get crew here ..."
Morgan - "I have no damn idea how to get crew in this freakshow. I did this five hundred years ago. Worked fine in France."
Amelia - "Oh. That'll definitely help." Giggling, "Freakshow required. Have experience in France."
Morgan - Looking up, "Pass it."
Amelia - Sitting on the table. "Pass what, Captain ?"
Morgan - "My pipe ! Which you never gave back. Give it up full. That's an order."
Amelia - "Oooo ! Orders now. When you can make her sing like I can ...," she pulls the curled pipe from her pocket, "... then you can sing to me about that island you found me on. But in the meantime ..."
She puts the pipe in Morgan's mouth and lights, still holding it. Morgan looks at her with one eye squinted shut and the other with raised brow while inhaling.
Amelia - Taking a puff while Morgan holds hers, then blowing a ring around Morgan's face, "... you're stuck with me." She puts the pipe back in her pocket.
They sit staring across the beach, completely ignored by all who pass.
Morgan - Laughing out her smoke, "Yep !"
('Heartbeat' by Big Black)
The walking business people are tired and drone like now, heels stumbling and the proud now seem depressed with shoulders hunched. Angry eyes look around among the fearful. Curses as they bump, sirens sound and tension builds their speed to scurry, loading into trains, departing.
As the people become fewer lights begin to flicker on in a settling mist. The streets quiet down to the distant sounds, with the occasional flapping of fabric behind her. She reaches into her coat, slowly pulling to buckling it with the other hand.
A hand grabs at her coat and pulls it off as she spins to a turn with long tooth knife drawn in readiness.
Nothing but her coat on the ground and people staring, backing away ... some reaching for phones with concern and horror.
She leaves the coat and turns to a fast run, followed by the shadows, spinning to the alley, then from as onlookers look to each other with murmur, other tapping their phones.
Running fast she passes a computer display in a closed store. The many computers in the window and store flicker on and a man's face appears
Germain - On the screen, "Andromeda ! Listen to me, please. I'm going to help you escape them."
She stops and looks at the screen, looking back down the empty street.
Germain - "Follow the white lights !" He looks to the high left and Andromeda's eyes follow, seeing the sign turn to 'Walk'.
She looks back down the street and sees the pursuers approaching between buildings, looks back at the face on the screen with a furrowed brow as it nudges it's head to the left, then grinning and nodding.
She runs under the walk light.
As the shadows pass the screens, they show a man reading a newspaper, then turn off. The sign turns to 'Don't Walk', ignored by the fluttering as they pass under.
Andromeda runs fast guided by changing lights and walk signs with the three pursuers in the now empty streets ducking in leaps from shadow to shadow.
As they get close, she's whipped across the face from behind by a fabric's corner. She grabs at it, spinning away from the attacked side, flopping the empty cloth onto the ground.
Looking up, three flapping sounds and shadows in bushes, bushes rustling closer and closer with a wind in her face blowing sand into her eyes.
She turns back running, the walk sign flashing over her quickly.
She approaches a nightclub who's long entry path lights guide like a runway toward the man from the screen holding two submachine guns.
Germain - "Come ! Get inside !"
He begins firing past her at the twisting black wisps, tearing the fabrics and forcing them back, until they spin and leap to the bushes while Andromeda runs past him.
He curses and throws his guns to the ground following her, while another man walks from the side of the building with a pressure washer and hoses the guns and shells into the large sewer grates lining the walk.
Two more from either side of the club walk around to the front door, while a sniper on the roof ducks down.
