Log:Book Faire

2015/01/16 Grimm Malcolm Toby 1

Is there a book fair in the neighborhood? Across the street from An Inner Light Books, there's two long tables laid out with faded red table clothes and an assortment of old antique looking books of the old classics. Scattered in the crowds about the streets are people dressed as characters from some of those books. It's just after sunset and the evening crowds are filling the streets, causing lots of passers by to peruse the books.

Across the street from the tables, nibbling on her sticks of chocolate pocky and holding a red box with even more Pocky, Gabrielle Grimm watches the goings on of the book fair with a peculiar look on her face. She glances up the street. Then down the street. Something is triggering her vague Grimmly sense!

Pink!Toby's making his way through chinatown, for one reason or another. Perhaps it's because he feels safe being surrounded by so many people, perhaps he's looking for food, who knows? But upon noticing all of the various characters and costumes, Toby decides he doesn't like his viewpoint from the ground, and thus, pink glow, levitate! Toby's floating above the crowd! He takes a look at the long tables with the various books, tilting his head towards them as he gets closer.

> A WILD MALCOLM HAS APPEARED!

> COMMAND?_

Malcolm comes strolling up the increasingly densely packed Chinatown streets, grey eyes sweeping this way and that as he tries not to crash into people. It's hard for a guy as tall as Malcolm not to crash into people when things get this crowded, yet another unfortunate side effect of being so much taller than average. He's making a noble effort, however, as he angles toward Hak Fu's Kung Pao Chicken Hut.

No, no one else knows why it hasn't been firebombed for being a horrible racial stereotype yet either.

It's a good thing Malcolm is so tall that even a shorty like Gabrielle can spot him in a crowd. Not that she needs to be able to see over people's heads to see anything. She forgets that strange evil tingling at the base of her skull and slips through the crowd, which is easy when she can turn into a shadow to get through the impassible groups that are just. Too. Slow. Finally, she pops up in front of Malcolm. "Hey! Mal!"

> GRIMM used HUG ATTACK.

> It's super effective!

Perhaps it's fortunate that Malcolm is pretty tall, and perhaps unfortunate that Grimm is at /just/ the right position that Toby can't see her. Upon spotting Malcolm Toby flies and releases his levitation in mid-air, but that doesn't stop him falling towards Malcolm!

> Pounce Malcolm

> Are you sure? Y/N

> Y

Malcolm startles when Grimm appears in front of him, seemingly stepping out of the shadows between bodies around him. That doesn't stop him from smiling brightly when recognition dawns upon him somewhere in the middle of his startled recoil. What /DOES/ stop him from wrapping Grimm up in a great big hug, however, is Toby dropping out of the sky to pouncehug Malcolm from the shoulders up.

"Hey GabriERRRRRRRRRK!"

Eyes wide, Malcolm topples over sideways with a Pink !Toby hugging him. Malcolm is fortunate in that he lands on the floor of an empty rickshaw, which has been turned into an impromptu book display. At least the books don't fall on him and !Toby...

Yet.

Grimm ducks down and covers her head like the sky is falling. It's raining...pink? Malcolm is under attack by aliens! "Whoa! Hey! No one attacks my...my..." well, they hadn't made it official or anything, but her cheeks flush as she struggles to spit out a designation. Four extra tentacle limbs of shadow sprout out from Gabrielle, two on each side, before they snake towards Toby and Malcolm. Two for each! The left tentacles move to try and help Malcolm up, while the right tentatcles threaten to snatch or swat the evil alien.

Toby is giggling like mad after toppling the Malcolm. He looks utterly unphased by it. After clinging to Malcolm for one or ten more moments, Toby rolls off of him, and into the rickshaw. But perhaps with quick timing (or an expectation of it happening), Toby throws tentacles of his own towards the books, stopping them from raining down on Malcolm. Though his are more little beams of light that stretch to the target and cover it in glowing pink.

Then Toby notices: Oh, there's someone that doesn't like so happy with his meeting with Malcolm. Toby, still giggling a little, stands up and brushes himself off, before extending another beam of light towards one of the tentacles that threatens him, attempting to shake the tentacle as one might a hand. "Hi, I'm Toby. Good friend of Malcolm's, who might you be?"

Malcolm is dragged off of the rickshaw by a pair of shadow tentacles. He doesn't quite get to his feet yet, trying to decide what on god's green Earth hit him as much as what could have possibly hauled him out of the rickshaw so bodily. And then there are dueling, diametrically opposed tentacles over his head.

In quite a hurry, Malcolm is back on his feet, supported by two metal cables protruding from the hem of his shirt. Two more metal cables are waving in the air, trying to capture shadow and light tentacles in their grasp, having erupted out of the neck of Malcolm's shirt. He blinks a few times, looking back and forth between Toby and Grimm.

"... Uh. Tob, this is my, um," Malcolm looks over at Grimm questioningly for a few seconds. He restarts, intoning, "Gabrielle, this is Toby! Toby, this is Gabrielle. Rose calls her the Mistress of Tenebration."

A long, awkward pause later, Malcolm inquires, "Does anyone else find it really weird that there are three different kinds of elemental tentacles waving around in Chinatown?"

No less than twenty people in the area answer in the affirmative.

"Huh, wha? Uh. Oh!" Gabrielle is slow on the uptake and eventually her shadow tentacles go limp in the grasp of others as they stop resisting. She blushes at Malcolm's questioning look. A moment later, her brain restarts.

"Rose does have a way with words. Sorry about that! I thought this was some alien Starguard attack thing. Nice to meet you?" she offers to Toby.

At the question of tentacles and the answers of concerned citizens, Grimm straightens up and her shadows simply fade away to reduce the number of elemental tentacles waving about. Someone could lose an eye.

Toby looks between Malcolm gir-er, /Gabrielle/, and Malcolm himself, pausing in his giggles and calming down. He's still smiling, though.

...But he looses it when Malcolm inquires about all of the elemental tentacles. He retracts his light tentancles back into his hands and giggles heartfully for a while, before sighing, and walking over towards Grimm, offering a more proper hand. "Nice to meet you, Gabrielle."

With a lack of tentacles to wrangle and Malcolm himself properly reacquainted with both gravity and equilibrium, Malcolm's metal cables abruptly retract under his clothing. There may or may not be a faint, winchy sort of noise accompanying their retreat. Malcolm rubs the back of his head with one hand as he moves toward Grimm as well, giving her a gentle hug after she and Toby have had a handshake.

Grimm finishes up her hand shaking with Toby. "Yeah. Sorry about the mix up, kid. Just looking out for my guy, here," she grins over to Malcolm as she gets hugged, giving him a big return hug. "So, you on duty today?" she asks Malcolm.

"Sorry about the uh... /unnanouncement/." Toby offers, smiling. Is 'unannouncement' even a word? Does it matter to Toby? "So what's with all of the books?" Toby asks, gesturing behind himself.

"Beats me, I was just coming for some of Hak Fu's special recipe chicken," replies Malcolm, neatly answering both Grimm and Toby all in one handy-dandy sentence! He laughs a little bit, smiling playfully as he comments, "Toby's not a kid, Gabrielle. I imagine he's actually a little older than you are."

"Really?" Gabrielle asks in surprise, looking down at the short pink Toby. "What sort of alien are you?" she asks as polite as can be, then lets go of Malcolm only so she can hold out the box of pocky she has. "Pocky?" she offers to them both. "And I think there's a book fair going on. But...there's something else around here. It's making my head tingle. Can't quite put my finger on it."

Toby nods towards Malcolm, and seems a little surprised with Malcolm's comment himself. "I've been a holomorph for like... 2 years, but I used to be 18-years-old. See, a while back, I got to become a holomorph, it was awesome! Weird at first, but still cool." Toby smiles, "I went from being human to being able to toss myself off the top of a three-story building and not suffer any ill effects, and to being able to-" Toby surrounds himself in pink aura, and flies off the ground and around Grimm, "Fly~" Toby giggles, coming to stop in front of Grimm, about eye-level.

"Huh. I guess you guys are about the same age then," comments Malcolm, palming one elbow while his other hand palms his chin. He looks vaguely pensive for a few moments, but shrugs whatever it was in his head off as he abruptly folds his arms behind his back. Malcolm, for the record, doesn't look like he's on duty. What with the fashionably distressed jeans, red leather jacket, black t-shirt, and a pair of worn-in-looking work boots, Malcolm definitely isn't looking military issue.

"So, uh. You said something was gnawing on you, Gabrielle?"

Grimm listens to Toby's explanation, drawing out a stick of pocky and nibbling on the end during the tale. "Yeah, sounds like it. That kind of sucks. And I thought I had it rough. I've only been flighty and dark for a few months." She nibble chews her pocky stick with teensy, weensy bites as the stick starts to disappear.

Her eyebrow arches at Malcolm's reminder. "Yeah, I can't quite tell where. Just an feeling like something evil's about. But it's not that strong."

The crowded streets seem amicable enough. Bustling as they do at night with commuters and the dinner crowd. At least, until a man dressed up as Robin Hood starts accostung a man in black, accusing him of being the Sheriff of Nottingham.

"What kind of sucks? And some sort of special sense?" Toby asks, floating around Grimm, as if examining her and trying to locate the source of said problem and said sense.

BUt then there's the Robin Hood man accusing the other guy of being some Sheriff. This draws Toby's gaze, with him wondering if he might need to do something other than just float around trying to visually search for something intangible.

Malcolm looks like he's going to answer Toby's question, but he sort of falls back into observational silence before actually making a sound. The tall man isn't actually sure what Grimm meant when she spoke of suckage. He's just reaching for one of the proffered Pocky sticks when the accusations start flying just behind him. Looking over his shoulder, with a Pocky dancing about in front of his cheek like the most delicious Harry Potter wand ever, Malcolm peers at Hood and Sheriff alike.

The 'sheriff' is just a hipster in skinny black jeans and a dark grey v-neck tee. "Hey, get lost, clown. And stop grabbing for my girlfriend!"

"Tut, tut," quoth merry Robin, "speak not so sourly. Hast thou fed upon vinegar and nettles this morning that thy speech is so stinging? Now release the fair maid Marian!" Robin draws an arrow and notches it into his bow as he pulls back the string.

Gabrielle comments, "Lots of special senses. Too many, really. And right now, it's giving me a strange headache. Uhhnn, what..." Gabrielle starts to look typsy and lightheaded. Down and across the other side of the street, there's a barbarian cyclops with a giant club that's raising it above its head threatening, about to bring it down on some teens that are mocking him.

"Tob, can you get Robin Hood? I'll take care of Leela Hulk," intones Malcolm. A metal cable erupts out from under his shirt again to carefully wrap itself around Grimm's waist. It may be trying to secure her in case of swooning or fainting. Malcolm also lifts his right hand just so, liquid metal pouring out of his flesh to rapidly form a metal boomerang. With a twist of his body and a snap of his wrist, Malcolm lets loose his boomerang at the cyclops' noggin!

Gabrielle slumps partially, but is caught and held up by Malcolm's metal cables.

The alumarang THOKs as it hits the giant cyclops right in its thick nogging, hitting it right between the--oh, right. IN its one giant eye, which it clutches slut as it stumbles backwards and falls into some empty chairs and a table set outside a cafe and gelato shop, looking dazed as it gets hung up on the patio furniture.

"I got it." Toby replies, nodding to Malcolm, smiling, before gaining a more serious look. Toby, already in flight, /whooshes/ over to Robin Hood, floating directly in front of him. "This won't do." Toby notes, tilting his head and giggling a little, before aiming a hand at Robin Hoodlum's bow, charging, and releasing a pink beam of destruction! The string snaps and the bow splinters, leaving Robin Hood without a weapon. "What fiendish cowardice!" he says, not unarmed and harmless. "Very well, Sheriff. We shall duel another day!"

Gabrielle shakes her head and tries to come to her senses. "Ssss...something funny..." she murmurs. Yeah, no kidding. It's not helpful that she's unable to really communicate what she means by that. She's usually not one to state the obvious, so maybe it's something inobvious.

A man dressed in 1600's french attire with a rapier and a long nose challenges another innocent man in a suit. "Your tongue is sharp! Surely it is not as sharp as my sword! Defend yourself! Or die!"

"Off! Off with her head!" yells a crazed woman who looks just as one would imagine the Queen of Hearts would look. She's angrily waving about a flamingo by its feet and looks ready to wail on a young blonde woman.

"Are you kidding me?" demands Malcolm, eyes tracking around the area as he notes more fictional characters on the warpath. The tall man drags Gabrielle in against his side with that cable he's got wrapped about her midsection as his hand reaches up to snatch his Alumarang out of the air as it passes into reach. He frowns and looks toward Toby, "Tob?! You've got a better sightline than me. Anyone doing things to books?"

"Ok, someone's playing with magic." Toby observes, taking note of the others that seem to have started playing their characters too well. He hears Malc, offers a quick nod, then flies up higher, to get a better view. Toby shouts towards Malc, "Try helping these people, I'll try figuring out who's causing this."

"Hey Malc, there's books where the Cyclops was standing." Toby shouts back to Malcolm, pointing towards them. "But no sign of anyone touching the books. Yet." Toby sits 20m above the crowd, watching, and waiting for something to happen to those books.

Malcolm looks over at not-entirely-herself Grimm. He looks over at the Cyclops. After a moment of indecision, more metal cables snake out from under Malcolm's shirt and jacket to secure Grimm to his back. This probably looks /SUPER WEIRD/.

Weird or not, however, the tall man *SPROING*s over toward the Cyclops to inspect the books. His legs have taken on a strange, ribbed look of their own under his jeans. Apparently he's got the Spring Legs going on at the moment. Malcolm attempts to locate suspiciousness as he (and Grimm) hurtle through the air.

There's nothing suspicious that Malcolm can see as he jumps towards the tall dazed cyclops that is recovering its senses. Gabrielle groans and tries to cling to Malcolm even though she doesn't really need to with the cable securing her.

Cyrano begins to duel with with the man in the suit, performing a quick lunge with his rapier.

The Queen of Hearts swings back her flamingo and prepares to bean the young blonde.

The tall Cyclops, Polyphemos, lumbers slowly to his feet with the aid of using his club to brace against the ground, then raises the giant club mightily. "Hear me, Poseidon who circle the earth, dark-haired. If truly I am your son, and you acknowledge yourself as my father, grant that my foe may never reach his home. But if it is decided that he shall, let him come late, in bad case, with the loss of all his companions," he speaks in prayer as he drops the club towards Malcolm with its huge reach. Cyrano skewers his foe the business man's shoulder with a piercing lunge, causing the innocent civilian to yelp in pain. The young blonde ducks down in a panic as a very disoriented flamingo is swiped overhead, missing her. "OFF! OFF. With. Her. HEAD!" the Queen of Hearts shrieks shrilly, spittle flying from her mouth.

"TOBY! NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME FOR CROWD CONTROL," shouts Malcolm. Both of Malcolm's hands come up to brace the Alumarang as he uses it to intercept Polyphemos' prodigious club. The tall man has to brace his legs severely as he rams the bowed side of the Alumarang up against the curve of the giant's club before he torques his body and arms to one side, driving Polyphemos' club in the general direction of the books(?) that Malcolm was coming to investigate.

The club gets knocked back and flies from Polyphemos' hand, smashing into one of the bookfair tables and causing it to collapse. Civilians scatter and a lot of the people are running now. The old whitehaired man attending the tables adjusts his glasses, grabs some of his books, and hobbles away. At Malcolm's feet, he spies an old edition of Homer's The Odyssey.

"I don't /have/ crowd control." Toby shouts back. Toby sighs, and frantically looks around once more, but then, Toby then has an idea. Oh, he really hopes this works. Toby flies back down, this time towards the man with the rapier. He shouts again, this time, loud enough for the Queen to hear, but towards the main with the rapier. "How dare you call the Queen manly and fat? She'll have your head for that." Fingers crossed.

Grimm can be felt stirring slowly on Malcolm's back before she finally taps on his shoulder and points to the old white-haired man abandoning the tables. "Mal...there...the big book he's carrying..." she announces dazedly, sounding pained. Her other hand is clutching her head as she winces.

The Queen of Hearts huffs! "How DARE he!" She whirls the poor squaking flamingo over her head in preparation to give a whalloping.

Malcolm is in a quandry for several instants when Grimm points out the Big Book of Evil. His eyes dart this way and that - damn that old man got away in a hurry - before suddenly his cables disentangle from around Gabrielle's body. Speaking quickly, Malcolm starts to crouch down whilst gravity takes hold of Grimm for the tall man.

"Gabrielle. Crowd control?! I've got the book!"

An instant later, Malcolm is SPROINGing across the intervening distance between himself and Old White-Haired Man. Given the distance, Malcolm sails rapidly ahead of the old man and pivots upon landing as his cables attempt to wrap around the Old Man's Big Book of Bad!

"Pardon me, sir, does your book have any Grey Poupon?"

After Grimm is lowered, she slumps onto the pavement, propped up by her hands planted on the ground, she nods at Malcolm's instructions without looking up at him. She sways a little and her eyes are focused on the sidewalk. She looks over to Cyrano and manages to reach out one hand towards him as it's surrounded by dark energy. Cyrano's head is surrounded by a dark outline of energy for a moment. And then the brave Cyrano begins to tremble at the approaching Queen of Hearts, unable to move as he's frozen in fear where he stands. The Queen still swings the flamingo overhead as she marches to Cyrano for the insults and swings at him. SQUAWK! The flamingo thumps Cyrano on the head, sending a puff of pink feathers flying. He looks startled, but not badly injured.

Meanwhile, Polyphemos starts to walk towards the tables to retrieve his fallen club.

Malcolm and Old Man Jenkins have become embroiled in intense physical combat! Well, okay, maybe not. Old Man Jenkins puts up a VALIANT battle, but a man of his age finds the book being wrested from his Ben-Gay belubed fingers! Of course, Malcolm doesn't fare much better as the book goes sailing out of his clumsy cables' grasp to smack, skip, slide, spin, and flip about on the ground until it comes to rest against another(!) rickshaw some 5 meters away.

"Is this the part where you curse us meddling kids and our dog too?"

Toby does his best /not/ bursts into giggling. He's loves that his plan actually worked. And that's when he notices Mr Cyclops is going for his club. Toby has other ideas, mostly involving pink beams of hurting. And thus, Toby turns around, take, and throws pink light at the Cyclops.

The beam /hits/ the Cyclops, for what is the second time, in the eye, knocking him back, down, and out.

The old man could probably curse them if they had a dog. "Be careful with my book!" he cries out and hobbles after the book as the bounces along the pavement, wheezing as he goes.

Gabrielle pushes herself up a little more, feeling better once the man and book are parted. She draws her feet up underneath her and stands up slowly, then extends her hand in a wiping gesture towards Cyrano and the Queen. A dark solid wall materializes to separate the queen and Cyrano from some fleeing civilians.

SPROING!

Malcolm leaps almost casually toward the book. His cables snake out of the sleeves of his jacket to ensnare the thing before he even lands. They lift it into his actual hands a moment or so later, when he's achieved proper standing balance. Glancing the book over, Malcolm looks at the huffing, puffing, wheezing old man with an inquisitive expression on his face.

"Maybe you should sit down, Pops. You look like you've already hobbled two whole marathons today."

The old man doubles over to rest his hands on his knees, wheezing. With the book still out of his possession, suddenly Cyrano, the Queen of Hearts, Robin Hood, and Polyphemos turn into ordinary and very confused looking citizens. The former cyclops wakes up with a headache, but is otherwise fine as he nurses his mythic hangover. All that remains of the hijinx are some pink feathers scattered around the street.

Toby sighs happily, stretches, and yawns. He floats over to Malc, and wonders, "So, think we're good here, Malc?"

"... Well that's different," comments Malcolm, looking around at the once and future civilians. He looks at the book in his hands, gently hefting and bouncing it in his grip. Apparently Malcolm is trying to decide how much it weighs for... Reasons? Malcolm cocks his head to one side, squinting at Old Man Jenkins.

Before he can say anything, Toby appears. Malcolm smiles and nods, "Yeah. I think we're good here, Tob. You want to head on out already?"

Toby nods, "Yeah, been a long day. Need to catch some sleep, ya know?" It is a hefty tomb with strange writing in a foreign language. It looks much older than the other books, which are of actual literature. Gabrielle rubs her temples as she walks over to Malcolm. "Much better. Whatever was making me dizzy seemed to be connected to that book."

"Sure. No worries, Tob. I'll catch you later, m'man," replies Malcolm, offering a brofist for adios daps.

Toby brofists, and begins heading out. Slowly at first, then, /whoosh/ he's gone.

Grimm isn't quite walking straight yet and looks worn out as she finally stops by Malcolm. "Thanks for the catch. I was starting to feel like I was going to pass out." She still looks a little pale from the experience.

The old man finally does curse. Or confess. "If it wasn't for you, this would've made the news! The old greats of literature would've had the spotlight! Instead of these...Dusk romance vampire novels, or 50 Shades of Grayest," the old man laments in a cranky old man voice, as is befitting his age.

"And how many people would be /DEAD/?" demands Malcolm, wheeling around to glare at the old man. He may or may not be flexing his muscles as he grips the tome in his grasp. Malcolm may be subconsciously trying to snap the book in twain. Presumably his unaugmented strength is not up to the task.

"No problem, Gabrielle," murmurs Malcolm, smiling gently at her. He goes back to glaring at the Old Man. Glaring is important for keeping sociopaths in their place, you know.

And it's a tactic listed in Chapter 8 of the Starguard Training manual as method to also clear a path, get citizens to listen to orders, or to make youths reconsider their lives of petty crime when using graffiti.

Old Man Withers gives a withering glare back at Malcolm, because cranky old men aren't afraid of nothing! So a sociopathic old man is even scarier. He's SEEN things, probably. You know. Back in the war. "A small price to pay to send out the message and wake up the sleeping masses. It would only help pierce the veil of pointless nonsense while the public are being blinded by WeTube cat videos and FriendBook posts. If violence is what gets their attention, then so be it. Let them tweet. Let them ALL tweet about this day! The classics deserve to be loved!" rants the old man in the tweed jacket.

Gabrielle takes a few steps away from Mister Crazy and one step behind Malcolm. "Okay. He's really lost it," she mutters.

"Buddy. Cats Reading the Classics videos would make you a mint and go viral so fast you'd have exactly the same thing with 95% less bloodshed," comments Malcolm. He glances over his shoulder at Gabrielle and inquires, "Could you call CBPD or Starguard for me? Tell 'em Forge is requesting back up in Chinatown? Suspect in custody, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera?" Grimm nods rapidly as she fishes out her cell phone. "All over it," she says as she takes a few steps away from the pair and calls it in. "Hi, yes. I'm located on Ming Street and Wharf Street. Forge has a suspect in custody, and an ambulance is needed for one injured civilian. He's requesting back up. Mmmhmm. Yes. Just one." She goes on to give what details she can over the phone.

The old man's eyes go wide. "That would just degrade literature! Cats? Reading the greats? Proposterous!" he sputters. "Everything has to be cats these days for kids to pay attention."

Gabrielle's off the phone and comes up beside Malcolm, brushing up against him and grinning. "Backup's on the way, 'Forge'," she says experimentally, not used to his hero moniker. "Oooo, that cat reading the classics is brilliant! I should so do that on WeTube. I could even make the cats!"

She holds out the palm of her hand, and a swirl of darkness there forms into a dark grey kitten. It mewls and stumbles about like 3 week old kitten, and squeaks out, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

The old man sputters in a rage, his face flushing red at the sight of it. "NO CATS!" he steps threateningly towards Gabrielle. As if the old man could really do much to her, but she looks surprised and instinctively protects the illusory kitten as she hops back from him.

"Bahahaha! Charles Kittens!" Malcolm loves it. This is the best cat thing ever. And then the old man takes a menacing step toward Gabrielle and Charles Kitttens. Forge interposes himself, biometallic flesh glittering and gleaming in the street lights as he looms over Old Man Forman. "Shut up. Sit down. Wait for the cops."

Forge does not sound at all pleased or pleasant.

While the old man isn't a match for Forge and can't exactly brush past him, he doesn't seem intimidated even though his march has been stopped. "You don't scare me, sonny. I used to eat punks like you for breakfast!"

Gabrielle and Charles Kittens are safe behind Forge. She peeks around Forge as the old man acts all tough. Charles Kitten continues, "It was the age of wisdom, it was--"

"Okay, that's it!" snarls Old Man Withers as he tries to swipe a hand around Forge to smack at Gabrielle or the kitten. He takes his literature very seriously.

Forge doesn't move his body. Really, the metal man doesn't have to move his body. Cables erupt out of Forge's chest, back, and shoulders to almost casually reroute Old Man Forman's strike off into the air well away from Forge, Grimm, and Charles Kittens.

"Sit down. Shut up. /SIR/," intones Forge.

The old man overexerted himself and gets to see Forge's mettle (had to) for himself. He toddles over to the curb and painfully, slowly, lowers himself to sit down. It takes a good thirty seconds with those old joints of his.

Sirens start to draw near to the scene, and soon a few CBPD Hovercraft arrive on the scene above the streets, while an ambulance makes its way on the ground. Officers begin to spill out to secure the scene and deal with the crowds, while a group of four officers eventually walk over to Forge. "Hello, Forge. So what've you got for us?" asks Sergeant Demico.

"Hey Sarge," intones Forge in a cheerful, less Eldar tone. He holds up the book in both hands, "I don't really know exactly. This guy," Forge gestures with a cable toward Old Man Jessup, "Was using this book to turn people into characters from classic literature. The cyclops from The Odyssey, The Queen of Hearts from Through the Looking Glass, Robin Hood, et cetera. I took the book away, the spell or whatever evaporated. Unfortunately I wasn't quick enough, the civilian injury was from a rapier stab from someone I'm not... Terribly familiar with?"

"The big nose? I think he was from that movie. Roxanne? Y'know, old classic," Gabrielle chimes in.

Sergeant Demico deadpans, "You mean Cyrano De Bergerac?"

Gabrielle shrugs helplessly. "I don't know what the main guy's name was." Charles Kittens meows and curls up in Gabrielle's hand.

The Sarge looks to Malcolm and grins. "We'll take it from here, Forge. We'll get the book to Starguard for evidence."

"I appreciate it, Sarge. I was just in the 'hood for some chicken and wontons," remarks Forge. He passes off the book and shakes Sergeant Demico's hand firmly - but not too firmly, it wouldn't do to snap the man's hand in half - before he turns back toward Grimm. Metal starts melting away, along with Forge's cables, leaving the tall man standing in front of Grimm and Charles Kittens.

The sarge and his men take Old Man Jenkins into custody and deal with statements from witnesses, leaving Malcolm and Gabrielle (and of course Charles Kittens). Gabrielle takes in a deep breath and sighs. "Well! That was unexpected and exciting. And you were really awesome," Gabrielle grins up at Malcolm. "It was also nice getting to meet your friend, even though it was kind of brief."

"Hey! That's a terrible joke about his height," comments Malcolm, tone playful. He wraps an arm around Gabrielle's shoulders and hugs her gently with one arm as he glances around the streets thoughtfully. "You hungry, Gabrielle?"

Grimm chuckles and looks embarrassed. "I was really trying not to mention how short he was. Or pink. I guess I fail." Charles Kittens vanishes in a puff of black smoke from her hand so she can wrap her arm around Malcolm. "After that? Starving. And I could totes use a soda or something right about now," she says as she snuggles up against him.

Malcolm may or may not be dancing around something on his mind. He laughs a little bit and shakes his head before quietly intoning, "Toby's had a rough time of it the past few years. Cut him some slack if he, y'know, does some weird things sometimes. It's not really his fault."

Lightly Malcolm leads the way toward Hak Fu's, because c'mon. Everyone wants to eat at a Chinese chicken restaurant run by a crazy martial artist from Jackie Chan Adventures. Even if no one knows that's who's running it.