Summary:In which our heroes save Mario's Pizza from some sort of semi-sentient jello. Log Info:Storyteller: Clockwork |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
      |
Mario's is open 24/7 and usually does a brisk business at most times. This evening is no different, as people come and go, joining the line to get their slices, their pies, and whatever else they plan on purchasing before settling themselves at the little black and red tables or heading out into the night. It seems like a normal Sunday evening. Outside the weather is chilly, and there are a few snow flurries that drift through the air, but they barely make it to the ground before disappearing.
It starts with a clamor in the kitchen, and a few muffled noises of pans banging and a "Who left the back door open?" It gets hot in the kitchen, and sometimes the employees prop the back door to let a little cold air in, just enough to cool off before going back to work around the ovens.
Jean has just made it through her last round of midterms before graduation, and she promised her roommate that she'd pick up pizza to celebrate. But it's New York, so of course everyone's picky about their pizza, and despite the fact that Marco's isn't the closest pizzeria, it was the overwhelming favorite, so here she is in line, watching the people ahead of her and the tables with idle curiosity. Hands in the pockets of a puffer jacket and a black beanie pulled over her bright hair, she looks like every other college-age kid waiting in line for their Sunday night treat.
Helena Bertinelli is waiting in line at the counter. In deference to the cold, she's wearing a long leather jacket, gloves and scarf, and she has that look of someone honestly reconsidering having braved the cold to be here. Beside her, a tall, bulky man stands, dressed in a thick coat. He carries himself like someone who's ex-military, glancing around here and there, displaying an interest in his surroundings that Helena seems to lack. Instead, she's kind of staring at Jean — in front of her in line — taking in her her clothing, her hair — with the air of judgement and interest both.
Scott Lang is on his way back from dropping off his daughter at her mom's house. Mario's is busy, he knows, but it's also the best, and while he adores his daughter… well, she wears him out, and buying a pizza seems like a far better plan than cooking when he gets home. Especially since he knows what's in the cabinets: seven packs of chicken ramen, three of beef, half a can of chili (in the fridge, of course), an apple his daughter took two bites of, then rejected because it 'tasted like Charizard's butt' (a statement he very carefully did not question), and a beer.
The beer will be consumed tonight. With the pizza.
So he steps into Mario's, regards the crowd, and almost leaves. But no. He has enough money for a good pizza and he is getting a good pizza. He, in turn, regards Helena for a moment, and then glances toward the kitchen at the sounds of banging pans and questions about the kitchen. Another night in the busiest pizza place in Brooklyn, right?
Baldur has been a fixture in NYC the last few years as a member of the Avengers. So it's not all that unusual to spot him out and about in the city. As is usual for him, he's wearing his normal clothing which, in 21st century America, is far from normal outside of a Ren Faire especially as he has his swords belted around his waist. Seated alone at a table, he, like everyone else, is eating pizza. Those who've been keeping tabs know he's on his fourth slice. Incongruously, he's got a cellphone in his off hand and is texting with his thumb as he eats.
The streets in the evening are calming, but Jane Roe is on them. Around and kicking. Well, not exactly kicking, but having a walk. She slips into the 24/7 pizzaria, hands in the pockets of her black flack jacket. The courier bag at her side seems not too heavy, but a couple LEDs can be noticed illuminating the inside of the lid if somebody ays close attention. It's just some basic wifi sniffers, network pickup, gps… just cartographing the nets of the area. The woman slides into the row of customers waiting ot order their share…
An older gentleman behind the counter wearing a name tag that reads: Dominic, is busy taking orders, while the pies and slices arrive further down the line, or numbers are called if there is a wait. He waves Jean on up to take her order. "What'll it be?" he asks her, glancing over his shoulder in annoyance as the commotion carries on behind him. Commotion is not unusual. There's always some banging about going on.
Did someone just, throw a hunk of melted mozzarella across the kitchen? Long white strands shoot across the opening of the window between where the ovens are and orders are taken, and the back kitchen where additional cooking and cleaning goes on. Nobody in the restaurant really notices.
"Dom?" comes a tremulous teenage voice from the back. "I think we've got a problem."
"Just kick it twice and it will start up again," Dominic hollers over his shoulder, having no time for problems with a line of customers in front of him. Sometimes old equipment requires some percussive persuasion.
Jean does give Baldur a slightly longer look - probably for the swords - but to be fair, it's not the weirdest thing she's seen in her life. And before she can think too much on it, she's being called up for her order, and there are too many people in line to waste their time by her staring around. "Hi, thanks. Could I please have one pepperoni, one supreme, and one veggie pizza? All large, please," she orders, craning her neck a bit when there's emerging chaos from the kitchen. "Uh…it looks like there might be a little bit more going on back there than just an oven, unless you've got some sort of cheese-slinger machine?" Up against the counter, it's like Helena's buddy is taking up more than his fair share of air in the shop, so there's also a brief glance over her shoulder in that direction.
Helena makes a brief noise in the back of her throat as the woman in front of her is called forward. She takes a deep breath; it's the smell that's keeping her here despite the wait. That, and something of anticipation in the brief lift of her heels as she watches — enviously — the big man with… two swords strapped to him? Baldur gets a long look, brows lifted. "Is that…?" she half turns, directing the unfinished question towards Scott, in line behind her, rather than her companion. She seems wholly oblivious to the pizza drama playing out in the kitchen. Helena's companion gives Jean a sharp look when she glances back — it doesn't seem personal so much as habitual, though.
A moment's further scan of the restaurant puts Baldur on Scott's radar, and he calls out to the Asgardian in greeting, waving a hand over his head. He's going to have to wait in line like everybody else to get his pie, but he can secure himself a table, perhaps, if Baldur doesn't leave in the interim. Of course, he WAS going to go home (or more likely his office) and eat the pizza with his one remaining beer and watch… he doesn't know what. He thinks maybe Lost is on Hulu now, and there was always something about the brunette from that show…
But that's neither here nor there. "Yeah, it is," he says to Helena, and might say more, but then sees the cheese go flying. And wincing. Because mozzarella is one of those things that burns AND clings. "I think maybe the kid in there is hurt," he notes to Helena, and then, to the counterman, "Hey, I think maybe you want to call an ambulance!"
Problem? Even though he wasn't really paying attention, it's a word that gets Baldur to look up and glance around the pizzeria. Problem. He sees no problem so finishes off the slice he's been eating. Opening the box on the table, he takes out another slice, the fifth of six that he ordered. No evident problem but a man waving a hand over his head. "Greetings." he calls back, and goes looks back to his phone. Until it's mentioned someone is hurt and he stands, looking toward the kitchen. "Someone is injured?"
St.Roe scans the people around the pizza parlor as she waits in line, her hand playing with the change in her pocket. A couple bills, a couple coins. Her eyes close a couple moment as she feels the area for its EM, just basking in the cellphone noise, the messages of all the peope passing through her, giving her a couple moments of bliss before she opens them again, eying towards Baldur as he asks for injured people. She looks around a little confused, trying to determine what he meant..
"Dom! It's got Jack!" comes another shout from the back, just in time for a giant glob of cheese to come flying out through the window and… grab hold of Dominic, dragging him suddenly back through the window into the back, leaving Jean's receipt with her order number on it hanging mid air for a split second before it drifts to the floor. The banging within the kitchen intensifies and with the sudden disappearance of the cashier, the patrons in the restaurant begin to take notice.
There are scattered screams, and a number of people either pick up what they were eating, or just leave their half-eaten dinners where they are and head for the door, creating a bit of a log jam as the unsuspecting folk coming in are met with a flood of people attempting to exit at the same time.
A six year old boy stands on top of a chair to try to get a better look at what's going on, his eyes round like saucers as he says, "The /cheese/ is /alive/.." in rapt fascination.
"Ooookay, that's not good." The typical college student that Jean looks like should be turning, screaming, and running like most of the rest of the customers. But instead, she plants her hands on the counter and promptly jumps over it, heading toward the back without hesitation. One hand rises in front of herself as she pushes out a telekinetic shield in front of herself just in case there are any more flying blobs of sentient (or semi-sentient) cheese on the way, even as she reaches out with her mind to take a count of how many people and possibly sentient cheeses are present.
When Scott confirms her guess, Helena is already moving forward — towards Baldur — with a brilliant, effortless smile. "Can I get a photo?" she asks, pulling out her own phone. That Baldur's attention is directed towards the commotion in the kitchen earns a furrow of brow, and belatedly she registers Scott's words. There's just a tiny purse of lips, her gaze flickering to her companion — holding her place in line — when Dominic is dragged back through the window. Her eyes go wide, and her phone slips from her hand — stunned for a moment by the speed at which it happens — it takes a second to process. In that time, her companion's moving bodily towards her, pushing her back. "Time to go, Ms. Bertinelli," he growls. "But, Daniel, no—" Helena's shedding her gloves, and she's suddenly got a knife in hand, darting quickly around Daniel's attempted grasp of her and towards the back, after Jean.
"I told him to call an ambulance," Scott says to nobody in particular, even as he reaches into a pocket for something very, very small. "You all heard me." The object grows into a helmet, and as he slips it on over his head, the possibly familiar and possibly completely unknown costume of Ant-Man appears in the place of his civilian garb.
"That's right, kid," he says to the little boy as he hops the barricade and into the seating area. "But don't let anybody fool you: the CAKE is a LIE." To the kid's mom he says, "I think you guys should probably take your pizza and go home. It'll be safer." And then he shrinks out of sight, assuming that the cheese is less likely to see him this way, and leaps toward the kitchen. "Tally ho! Or something like that."
Once Baldur stands up, he can see who it was who was waving. "Ah, Scott. Who is hurt?" he asks and follows with "Not right now." to Helena. There is trouble afoot. A cheesy tentacle kidnapping someone makes the answer to his question irrelevant at the moment. It also makes things inconvenient as people begin to panic, making it difficult to get to where he needs to go. Climbing onto his table, he leaps over people to the counter and onto the floor then dives head first through the window after Dominic, rolling as he hits the ground and pulling a sword.
St.Roe reaches down into the messanger bag as the commotion really starts, pulling out a short baton. With a hiss, it expands to about twice its size, the metallic pads at the ends gleaming in the neon light as the young woman twirls it around her hand twice. A moment her eyes seem to glaze over as she picks up the wifi of the kitchen's security camera and actively spends a moment or two to decifer what it actually says, frowning some. "Out. Everybody OUT HERE," yells at the people when her eyesight clears, waving at the door to them while others strom to the kitchen.
The mother of the little boy picks him up and nods to Scott, grabbing her purse and the pizza and heading for the door along with the rest of the patrons. The boy waves cheerily to Scott as he shrinks out of sight, "Did you see that? He got tiny! Like an ANT!" And then his mother drags him out of the ensuing chaos.
Jean's shield seems to ward off another incoming globby mass that shoots out the window and bounces off of it with a wet sounding *THOK* before vanishing once more. Sounds of shouting continue inside as she moves toward the doors.
Poor Daniel doesn't manage to keep control of Helena because there she goes over the counter and after Jean, followed shortly by Baldur who is leaping through the window. It's an approach that lands him squarely in the mass of the 8 foot diameter blob of cheese, which quickly wraps stringy gooey tendrils around his legs in an attempt to pull him in. There are already a pair of legs kicking from someone half-submerged, and Dominic is writhing within the gooey grasp.
Scott, tiny as he is, is easily able to enter the room along with Jean and Helena through the now-open kitchen doors. Three other kitchen workers attempt to fend of flailing arms of cheese with pizza pans.
St. Roe's shouts make it to one of them, who, in the clamor, makes a break for the door only to bounce of Jean's shield, and fall back onto the floor, losing his pan in the process.
"What the- Oops." Jean flushes when one of the workers bounces off her shield, shifting it to the side long enough to lean down and try to help him back up. "Sorry, but you should probably keep going." In the meantime, she reaches out with her mind to grab the flailing legs sticking out from the cheese, giving them a solid yank as she tries to pull the worker free. She pulls her shield closer in around herself, tight enough to keep from interfering with others without exposing herself to cheese attack. And in the meantime…one avenger, two avenger, and two other unexpected young women. Interesting.
It's probably a measure of the person Helena is that she doesn't even think to try and usher the innocent out of the way, but instead dives directly into the fray. Certainly, it seems her companion is more mindful than her: after a last growl after her, Daniel looks to be shepherding people out the door, even while he's bringing his phone up to his ear to call 911. Helena casts a brief glance at Jean — doesn't seem aware of Ant-Man in his tiny form, and leans towards Dominic — slashing at the goey cheese substance with her razor-sharp knife. There's a speed with which she strikes that speaks of familiarity with the use of the weapon, and practicality, too — doing her best not to stand in the stuff where it layers the floor. "That's my," she grunts with effort, "Pizza guy. Let go," she growls.
"This is something you don't see every day, B-Dawg," Scott tells Baldur from somewhere in the vicinity of Jean's shoulder. He's sure Baldur is aware of this — almost as certain as he is that calling Baldur 'B-Dawg' is not the best idea he's had today — but sometimes his mouth operates of its own volition, and doubly so when there are hijinx unfolding before him. But he knows one thing for sure: ants eat cheese.
And so he sends out a signal to all the ants in the area: 'MASSIVE CHEESE BUFFET, PEOPLE! COME HERE!' Whether they'll be there soon enough to save anybody is questionable, but all things considered, with an apparently telekinetic redhead, an Italian woman with a knife, him, Baldur, and a woman with lots of tech on hand, they can probably handle a lot of cheese before the ants arrive.
And if the owners of Mario's get ticked about the sudden (and temporary) ant infestation, they shouldn't have angry, alive mozzarella on hand.
OKay, Baldur doesn't roll so much as squish what's under him. That being cheese. "If only Volstagg was here. I have yet to see anything edible withstand his appetite." His sword slices through the cheese strands entwining his legs like… Well, like a sword through cheese strands. "Release him, amorphous dairy creature!" he commands. B-dawg is obviously not him so he doesn't respond.
St.Roe ducks down behind the customer side of the counter, slowly scooting up along the side to the fallen one, pushing out the staff to them so they could hold on to it. Because in contast to all those darting in head on, she is not a world class fighter. She's a hacker first.
The worker that Jean helps up looks a little embarassed as well, and hastily blurts out a "thanks" before scrambling toward St. Roe. He grabs onto the baton and lets her help pull him toward safety. The other two abandon their pizza pans now that the invisible wall isn't blocking their exit, and run toward St. Roe as well, following her advice to get the heck out of there.
Baldur manages to slash his legs free, but those tendrils are busily going for his swords and arms next, as well as wrapping around Helena's wrists as she tries to cut Dominic free. She manages to get his arms free and he grabs onto her arm as well, trying to pull himself out all the while cursing in a stream of Italian.
Jean pulls with her mind, and the poor drowning worker, up to his hips in cheese begins to come loose with a wte sucking sound that is not altogether healthy. When she finally does manage to get him loose, he comes free with a pop and sprawls out onto the floor. Unfortunately, he doesn't appear to be breathing at the moment.
All around the neighborhood, small black trails of tiny segmented bodies begin to abandon their trash cans, and trails of sticky syrup left outside dumpsters, and begin to converge on Mario's.
"Crap. Crap crap crap." Jean kneels down next to the downed worker, leaning over to see if she can feel any breath. "Right. CPR. I got this." On the one hand, she's been avoiding needing to do this for a while. On the other hand, it's nice to be dealing with a cheese blob and a stranger instead of giant robots and your best friends, so at least this isn't the worst thing ever. She sets her hands over his chest, starting the regular compressions as she watches the others take on the fight. Meanwhile, she takes hold of Dominic with a telekinetic hand, pulling him away as well. "That's all the people in that thing!" she calls to the others. "It's just…cheese now! Mostly."
There's definitely some element of glee in Helena's quick movements. She continues slashing at the cheese, and when she's uncovered enough of an arm, reaches for Dominic's wrist and starts tugging, while cutting at the most obvious strands holding him prisoner. She, oddly, starts laughing — and, too, starts up a steady streak of swearing in Italian to equal Dominic's — especially when the strands starts wrapping around her wrists. She brings her wrists together, and twists, to pull it tighter — then spins, slashing at the stuff in a smooth motion with her knife, letting out a pleased, triumphant laugh, that falters as Dominic is pulled from her grip and goes flying.
Somewhere behind them, Helena's bodyguard Daniel is attempting to give a description of the perpetrator to the dispatcher. "Well, it's… yellow, this kind of yellowish, gooey… it looks like cheese, okay? I know what that sounds like, and I'm not fucking crazy," there's an air of annoyance and exasperation in Daniel's tone that implies, the shit he has to deal with, pretty visibly. He's spotted St.Roe, but the woman is smartly keeping herself covered behind the counter.
Scott is not dead, or even reprimanded. B-Dawg it is!
As the ants begin to infiltrate the kitchen he takes only a moment, then selects one ant as his steed. "I dub thee 'Sir Ant-thony Hopkins!" he announces. "Ants! The time is now! The cheese is yours! Eat, you tiny, valiant soldiers! Eat!" And then, only to fit in, he adds, "Mangia!" The pronunciation is off, but he tried.
The severed strands of cheese just get reabsorbed into the mass, making Baldur's efforts to damage it futile. Damage it with a sword, that is. "Shield thine eyes, mortals!" he calls and points his sword at the center of the mass. He doesn't need to use a sword but magic swords, like hammers, do make it easy to channel and direct energy. He starts glowing brightly - very brightly - and an even brighter beam of light is emitted from the end of the sword. Not just light; the heat given off can be felt by everyone.
St.Roe waits for the pizza bakers to have abandonned ship, out the door, before she follows them. Shall proper heroes fight this fight…
As Jean begins compressions it's clear that the man, presumably the aforementioned Jack from earlier, has a lung full of cheese, and that coughing that up may be extremely difficult. As she begins compressions, cheese starts to ooze out of his mouth and nose.
Helena becomes a whirlwind of cheese slicing, a human grater of sorts, but she does manage to help with Jean to get Dominic free, who scrambles as far away from the cheese as he can as soon as he's let go, and then makes his way out with St. Roe, thanking everyone profusely for helping, as he scrambles out the door.
Poor Daniel. The dispatcher sounds even less and less sympathetic over time, but agrees that someone will be dispatched shortly.
The veritable army of ants starts crawling all over the white mass and begin chewing bits off of it. It's right about then that Baldur's beam of sword light begins to heat up the cheese right in the center and it begins to bubble and melt and run all over the floor, looking, from a distance, like the world's most disappointing vanilla ice cream covered in sprinkles. Ants and cheese end up in a gooey bubbling mass on the ground.
As the cheese melts, something in the center of it seems to detach itself from the mass, a kind of shimmery amorphous blob about a foot in diameter. It shoots away from the rapidly melting cheese and slides out of the kitchen on its way through the dining area toward the outer door, leaving the melty mess behind.
"Oh man that's gross. That's gross and not good. I am…I am really, really sorry, guy," Jean winces as she realizes what's going on in his lungs. That's not something compressions can help with. But a little carefully applied telekinesis? That just might do the trick. That's going to take her full attention, though, which means she doesn't see the odd blob rush out the door at all. Instead, she's kneeling next to the kitchen worker, eyes screwed tightly shut and hands at her temples as she focuses on carefully extracting the cheese from his lungs.
There's something wrong with this picture: namely that all the people who were going to serve and supply Helena with pizza are now… gone. She makes a vexed sound in her throat, and begins fighting her way — slowly — given she has to keep cutting herself free — back towards the counter. "Hey, wait—! I wanted a New York Special. It's been so long," she calls in Italian, but nope — Dominic is gone. It does let her see the rapidly departing blob as it disappears, and she stares, definitely not chasing after it. She's just not that sort of Hero. "Dan…iel?" Said bodyguard is still on the phone to 911, sighing and finally hanging up when the dispatcher agrees to send someone. Just in time for something weird to rush past him. Carefully — warily — he approaches the counter, reaching out a hand to try and grab Helena and help pull her free from the melting cheese.
"Back, Sir Hopkins!" Scott shouts before his own steed can get coated in boiling cheese. This saves a battalion of ants as they rein in behind Ant-Hony, but countless more are boiled alive. "What a waste," Scott says — though whether he's talking about the ants or the cheese is anybody's guess.
He -does- see the shimmery object as it departs. "You will be avenged!" he shouts as he launches himself after the shimmery blob thing. He is not at all sure what he'll do if he catches it, but he's certain it'll hurt. Him, probably.
What? Ants. Well, there's always more of them. Though Baldur does feel a little bad about it. Someone didn't tell him what was being planned though so there's little he could have done about it. As the shimmering blob flies off, he turns to pursue, trying not to shove anyone off their feet in his haste.
With Baldur and Ant-Man in hot pursuit of the shimmery blob, they are able to chase it out the front door, past Daniel and Helena as he helps her back over the counter, and into the street, where it promptly takes off, sliding beneath parked cars and along the edge of the street, hugging the curbs and wiggling like self-propelled jello.
Daniel is able to help Helena to safety in time for Dominic to come back and peer inside, asking if it's safe to come back in, having seen the other two come running out.
With very careful concentration, Jean is able to force the cheese out of Jack's lungs until his airway is clear, at which point he gasps and coughs and expells a bit more cheese into the bubbly mess that now lies inert, congealing and full of ants on the floor. Jack himself, stares wide-eyed and looks around in horror. He tries to talk but it comes out a hoarse unpleasant sound, and he coughs some more.
Wait… ants? And an Ant-Man? Gross. Helena only seems to notice them now that the adrenaline of the fight is fading, as Daniel pulls her free from the melting cheese: shuddering, grimace rippling across her features. "Ugh. We're never coming here again." As if ants were the last straw, rather than self-aware cheese monster. When Dominic peers back in, she lifts her chin, brushing down her jacket — and then realizing there's strands of cheese all over it. She grimaces, and begins casting about on the floor for her phone. "Ms. Bertinelli, we really should go," Daniel's saying, eyeing the two heroes tailing the blob thing. "The police will be here soon, and…" you don't want to be here, is his clear implication.
"Yeah, you should…you should probably still see a doctor. But maybe not talking for a few minutes," Jean cautions Jack, letting out a long breath once she realizes he's at least alive. She gives the puddle of cheese and ants in the middle of the floor a long look, grimacing, before she pushes up and offers a hand back down to Jack to help him up. "All things considered though, I wouldn't advertise this one. I mean, the vegans are bad enough already, right? Tell them cheese isn't just made by animals but it's gone sentient and they'll just straight lose it."
It simply makes sense to Scott that the fastest method of chasing after the quivering blob of whatever is to let Baldur do the chasing. Once out the front doors he leaps to Baldur's shoulder — a weight the man would likely not notice if Scott weren't contractually obligated to talk constantly. "Follow that slime!" he shouts. "Man, I never expected this: an Ant-Man/Baldur the Brave Team-Up issue. We should get somebody whose name starts with C in on this, man. Cap? Catwoman? Or maybe just 'Ant-Man and Baldur the Brave vs. the Cheese Monster!' By the way, B-Dawg… can I call you B-Dawg?"
Sorry, Baldur. Sometimes you get stuck with the Avengers you are stuck with.
Baldur loses sight of it momentarily till he gets outside and quickly looks around. It's just scooting under a car when he find it and he takes off in pursuit, running along the sidewalk, then switching to the street as it's easier to avoid cars than pedestrians. "No." is his only reply to Scott's question. "What is that creature? I had not encountered one before in your realm."
Jack nods in agreement with Jean, and though he's still coughing, the color seems to be coming back to his features. He's a little unsteady, but makes it back to his feet. Fortunately, the sirens outside herald both a fire truck a cop car, and an ambulance arriving on the scene and pulling up outside. The ambulance will likely be Jack's first stop.
Apparently Daniel wasn't the only one who had called 911. Maybe someone had followed Scott's advice at the beginning of all of this in the first place.
With a little careful maneuvering, Daniel and Helena can likely make it out and into the gathered crowd without too much notice.
What the creature is, is entirely unclear, or rather, it's clear that the creature is clear, but it's nature isn't. Either way, it moves fast, but not so fast that Baldur, and by proxy, Ant-Man are unable to catch up with it. The question is, once they gain on it, what exactly are they going to do with it to stop it?
Where did the avenger sorts go? Once Jack is on his way to the front, Jean slips out the back - registration may be over, but there are still things she doesn't want to explain to the police - and lets her mind range outward, searching for the sound of at least one very unfamiliar mind. Gods, Norse or no, tend not to think like the average joe on the streets.
Helena takes a few moments more to try and find her phone — to no avail — and finally gives up. She lets Daniel steer her with a grip on her upper arm — not out the front door, with the curious on-lookers and incoming sirens — but out the back, through the kitchen and past Jean and Jack. Helena gives the two a brief look, but not stopping to see if they're okay, since they seem to be, Jean herself slipping outside — following her out the back exit into the alley. "I am definitely going to need new clothes, Daniel," Helena's sighing as they exit, moving down the alley and slipping carefully away through the crowds so as not to draw undue attention.
Scott has an answer to this question, though it only occurs to him as Baldur runs past an alley, down which he spies an overflowing dumpster. "No idea, big guy," he tells Baldur. "I've never seen anything like it. Keep following that thing — I'll catch up ASAP." He leaps down the alley to retrieve what he saw: an abandoned Cool Whip container, lid and all. And one he's resumed full size he takes the container, filthy though it may be, and races back down the alley and after Baldur. If the container is too small, well, that's what blue discs are for.
Just what is Baldur going to do with it once he catches it? That's a question he's wondering. Stab it is the logical answer but he prefers not to kill things without knowing exactly what they are. Scott's departure would have gone unnoticed had he not said anything, focused as he is on the chase. As soon as he gets close enough with it out int he open, he tries smacking it with the flat of his blade.
Jean is able to sense the general direction that those minds that had been nearest her recently have gone, moving rapidly away. Out in the back alley with Helena and Daniel, they have a few minutes respite as the cops begin to move into the restaurant but haven't made it out back yet.
Baldur reaches out and smacks the slime with the flat of his blade which has exactly the effect one might expect. The slime goes squish in all directions, and then reforms, and continues on its way, not seeming to suffer much for the whacking. Scott returns with his cool whip container, appropriately sized with the use of his blue discs, just in time to catch back up with Baldur.
Jean glances after Helena as she and the (presumed) bodyguard head out, then follows their example, making her way out to the street and walking away in the opposite direction. Much as she'd like to know just what that thing was, it's probably for the best if she doesn't have to answer to anyone about just what's gone on here.
Daniel's in full bodyguard mode, right now, practically dragging Helena at the fastest speed he can manage without it drawing attention, after wiping down and ditching his phone. The Italian woman's giving him a sharp glance — but Helena pays him for precisely this sort of thing — so doesn't protest as she lets him guide them away from the scene of the crime.
"I got this!" Scott calls as he comes racing up after Baldur. The squishy thing doesn't seem to be much affected by simple strength. But containment should work, he hopes. He dives in front of the thing, pushing the bowl, still filthy, but at least the filth is smaller than it was compared to the dish, in front of the creature. "Just, kinda, push it in with your sword," he tells Baldur, holding the lid of the bowl at the ready.
The result from smacking it was pretty much what Baldur expected which leaves stabbing. Fortunately for the creature, Scott returns with an alternative and once he's in position, Baldur swats it with the flat of his blade toward the man and the container. "Quickly now!"
And with that, the slime is swatted into the container and sealed up by Scott. What they do with it now? Well, that's for another story.