Tallyho Abell's Story

(*Quick OOC, my character is from Aires to get the plot going but other characters should be from earth.)
Tallyho gripped the handles of her wicker basket. The craftsmanship was pretty sloppy really. Little pricks rebelliously swayed against the area of her palm like straws from a wild, frayed broom. The apples inside rolled along the bottom of the basket, exposing their green, under developed bellies to the Arian sun. Dry dust clung to the soles of her bare feet just as white powder clung to the faces of eastern queens.
She was the queen of apples after all, in her own, pauper-like way. How many apples were left at the bottom of her basket? Seven? The queen of apples was going bankrupt and her country (her stomach) was about to be seized by the lord of hunger. She acquired the basket from a street vendor she did a small job for. All she had to do was wait on the fruit stand for perhaps an hour or so, and instead of money, she was awarded a basket laden with a family of shiny red apples.
And what joy she felt when she was given this gift! She thought that she would be content for the rest of her life, fed forever and ever on crunchy red fruit. But there she was a few days later, with seven softening war survivors.
The blonde stood at the entrance gate of the bazaar. Her weight shifted eagerly—an awkward controposto that she grew accustomed to ever since she was seven and a half. She wanted more work today, more apples. Tallyho bumped the basket up against her chest with her knee, then she threw her head back and shook until she was sure that every free lock had fallen against her warm back.
The bazaar was unusually busy. At nearly every booth there was about three other people waiting in line before her. The traffic was disruptive. Tallyho noted a man on a bicycle with a hen in its basket. He plowed past the girl at least three times, and each time he was headed in a different direction. When she finally approached a booth it didn’t sell food it all, but rather an assortment of intricately decorated hair combs.
“You girl come here,” the woman barked. She was a stout, round woman. The fat of her chin lolled over her short neck as she spoke. “Let me see your hair, I have the perfect comb for you,” she said. Tallyho approached and took a closer look at her. The woman wore a coarse brown dress with red detail around the square collar. Her breasts curved over her protruding stomach comfortably and her calf blended into her ankles like dirt blended into hot water. Without asking she took a handful of Tallyho’s hair and pinned it up with one of her combs.
“Look at this,” the woman said as she angled a vanity mirror so that Tallyho could see the shiny black comb that cradled her locks near her neck. Gold paint danced around the teeth and the wings of the accessory with lyrical swirls and dots.
Before the blonde could finish admiring the comb it was expertly ripped from her hair without pain and blonde strands floated back down to her mid-back.
“Give me twenty coins for it,” the woman said as she held the comb above the mouth of its satin bag—a threat.
“I don’t have that much,” the blonde said simply. Her green eyes traced the path of the comb as it fell down a straight line into the bag. The woman snapped the strings tight, “no money and you won’t get anywhere.” Tallyho stepped away and watched as the woman attempted to sell a comb to another girl.
The blonde had forgotten what exactly she came to the bazaar for. She only continued forward towards the exit. That comb was on her mind, that cheap comb. Somehow she felt worth something when she wore it. It was like the act of pinning her hair up was lifting an unknown weight off of her shoulders. Maybe it was just because it made her feel rich and lovely.
A stray thought crossed her mind, that woman, an ugly woman, had the most beautiful black hair Tallyho had ever seen.
She walked through the exit arch of the bazaar, and kept walking until she felt like she was on her way to the edge of nowhere. She stared at her rotting apples and wobbled as she walked down a grassy hill, then her hands disobeyed and dropped the entire basket. She kept walking but only found herself bending her foot against the wicker and tumbling down the green slope. As the hill grew steeper, she tumbled harder until the sky turned black.

Tallyho barely held onto the branch of a tree. Leaves swayed rebelliously against her arms until she woke up with a chuckle’s smile. The sky was blue again. The green was scarce, only earthy splotches against the cyan. Her slender body was parallel to the curves of the fat branch she pressed her weight against. It was soon that she realized that she wasn’t in a lush valley but wedged in a higher fork of a tree. She let her feet dangle above an odd concrete lane that was only wide enough for one person to walk on. How high above the ground was she? Eight feet? Ten? Surely too high for her to simply jump down and not expect to get hurt. She raised her head from against the bark and touched her cheek. The texture of the bark left an imprint on her face. Had she been sleeping there for a while? She rubbed her cheek rapidly and scanned her surroundings again.
It was an odd spread of grass. Concrete forms, fountains and benches disturbed its shape endlessly. She looked out even farther. There were wide stone roads where odd contraptions in varying colors bumbled behind each other honking—roaring. There seemed to be people stuffed inside, families. Then there were the buildings. Large towers that hung high above her like gods. The refection of the sky was prominent on the black glass.
Then another odd occurrence happened. Tallyho placed her hand on her collar bone to see if her necklace was still there. It was definitely there, and slightly hot to the touch. The girl’s brows furrowed and she replaced her cheek against the bark and watched the new strange world around her with vacant eyes.
“What has happened to me this time?”

Autumn frowned as her pale blue eyes scanned the cards before her. No, no this didn’t make any sense whatsoever. The message was completely jumbled up and downright nonsensical. She had no plans for an earth shattering adventure. Why, she had just arrived in New York! Thanks to her mother of course. Last month, the cards told her of travel. And it just so happened that her mother decided to let Autumn tag along on her business trip.

Therefore, more travel to unexpected lands seemed like a rather odd future. It had just happened after all. Perhaps she had read it wrong. Either way she had to try again later, or risk another misreading. Travel huh… Well, if it was travel that the cards had predicted then travel is what she would have. A walk to the park may not have been the adventure that the cards were speaking of, but it would do. Her mother’s meeting would take a few hours and some fresh air would do some good.
For a moment, she almost walked out of the door in her pajamas. No no this wouldn’t do at all. Autumn rushed over to her luggage, pulling out a black peacoat and dark jeans. Now this would work just fine.

The blonde put the cards in her purse, small and lightweight, and left the hotel room. She also put a small butter knife in there from last night’s dinner. The cards had warned her of danger, and she wasn’t about to take that threat lightly. Of course, they also spoke of her own death years ago and the nothing had happened.

Autumn didn’t think it was because the cards were wrong. She always thought of such mishaps as her changing her own fate. Obviously, she didn’t die because something had changed. That must have been it. Or she read it wrong. Either way, she was positive that the cards didn’t lie. Which is exactly why she listened to them. Just in case her fate hadn’t changed.

Needless to say, Autumn was a dreamy sort. She thoroughly believed in the paranormal. There were a few times that she had even decided to go on investigations of paranormal hot spots. Nothing really happened, but that didn’t matter to her. She was sure that the spirits were just tired or something. Or perhaps her good luck charm had kept her from being attacked by something sinister.

Her “charm” was a necklace. A tear shaped topaz that hung from a golden chain. Autumn had bought it at a flea market and never stopped wearing it since. It was just too pretty to take off. Besides, it looked good on her.
Leaves crunched under her black flats as she walked through the park. Fall really was a beautiful time of year. Back where she lived the trees didn’t change color. They didn’t change much at all actually. Palm trees sort of stayed the way they were. But New York, as opposed to California, had seasons that obviously changed. It was actually rather nice.

Autumn gleefully studied her surroundings. It was so very beautiful. She didn’t really have another chance to see a sight like this again. That is, not to her knowledge. Perhaps tomorrow she would ask the cards if she would ever see this again. But for the time being, she was content just to sit down on a bench and watch the leaves fall. No, this certainly wasn’t a grand adventure. And there certainly wasn’t any danger nearby. It was peaceful. Just the way she liked it. That is, until her eyes caught a rather odd sight. A girl in a tree. Now what in the world was she doing up there?

Autumn winced as she felt a cold shiver run up her spine. Sure, it was brisk out, but not that bad. Curiously enough, it was her neck that was the coldest. Upon further inspection, it was the necklace itself that created the chill. Goodness, it was as cold as death itself. No matter. The girl in the tree was more important than the chills. Autumn walked over, curiosity taking hold. “You… um. You alright up there?” She asked. What if the girl wanted to be in the tree?

Anagenisi fiddled with the small diamond placed on the delicate thin silver chained bracelet that rested, with little weight at all, her small, pale wrist. Twisting it in between her fingers, the cool edges that were cut so sharp and even on the diamond felt smooth. She found herself often doing this, and every time she had laced the small diamond between her fingers she felt a slight ting of a warm feeling of home. She held the diamond up to the small stream of light that shown light the rising of the morning sun through the small window, in the equally small room she was in. The dust particles visible through the light fluttered down softly then disappeared were the light cut off. Something as simple as the dance the dust that only the light may show seemed too, like the diamond, an eerie sense of beauty. The diamond itself glittered in an elegant way as the light seeped through the colorless hard rock state it possessed. Her already calm self, seemed to get even more relaxed as she just gazed upon the diamond. She had been found in a basket as a baby with this diamond. She had no idea if it was her birth parents who had left it with her, or if it was just a fluke it was found with her.
“Anagenisi, get your demonic self into the kitchen, and don’t murder a fly while you’re at it.” The screeching yells of her slightly schizophrenic foster mother, Kara, broke the trance the mysterious diamond held on her soul.
Strands of her long pale snow like hair cut in front of her vision as she lashed her head over to the slightly cracked open door of her bedroom, where the slightly whimpered yells seeped in from, in a rattling rage. She found that Kara’s voice was always a whimper of some sort. That woman seemed to be afraid of almost everything. Anagenisi seemed to be a target for the woman’s rage, be it may that the woman thought she was an evil spirit coming to murder her. She probably only got that idea because she was so pale in every way, her hair, complexion, and her light blue eyes that if made sense of seemed clear. Anagenisi also seemed to keep to herself most of the time, and seemed deep in thought and only spoke to the woman if spoken to. The only reason the woman must keep her around is for the checks they pay her to keep me here. She was the worst foster parent up to date.
Pushing herself up off her bed, she slipped through her doorway and walked down the dark painted halls, were the corners to every door way or turn had a pillow taped to it. She seemed to be afraid of even the softest corners now. As she arrived into the cluttered kitchen, she could easily spot the haggard old woman in the robe back into the corner waiting for her. Staying by the door way, careful not to approach the terrified woman, she spoke in her soft Voice and said “Yes?” She could almost see a quiver going up Kara’s spin. Anagenisi wasn’t a scary looking person. She was just a loner most of the time so no one approached her, the only person who ever seemed scared of her was this woman.
“Go to the market and get me more milk, will you?” Kara asked in her whimpered tone. Giving a small smile Anagenisi replied easily and simply, saying “Of course.” Turning away Anagenisi made her way down the steps, and opened the door. Just before shutting it she heard Kara yell “And don’t be gone long!”
Breathing in the fresh air, she gave a small smile, and began walking a little ways down the road. The market wasn’t far from the small run down house she lived in. she just had to cut through central park which was only a block down. Making her way down the side walk, she saw many people pass by in rushes. It always seemed like everyone was in a rush, how stressful that must be. Many different people as well, men in suits carrying brief cases, mothers in jog attire with little baby in high tech strollers, kids on their skate boards, or rich girls with hand bags clutched in their claw like hands, designers clothes on every inch of themselves, anda cell phone held up to their ear in another. It made Anagenisi’s own clothes a sheer white button up shirt and plain dar jeans, seem very plain and cheap.
Sometimes it made Anagenisi grateful she couldn’t afford such electronics and such. She found entertainment and beauty in the simplest things, like nature, or just sitting on a bench over looking lakes, things like that. “Miss, do you have any spare change?” a grungy old voice seeped through her unaware self, and she looked down lightly startled. There sitting n the dirtied poorly concreted ground, sat a man with a scrappy bearded, tussled long hair covered by a toque, and the tired green eyes that were once probably very lively as a young child.
“Oh,” Anagenisi smiled giving a small breathless laugh “You startled me. “ She spoke in the same soft tone of hers. Pulling out of her back pocket a five dollar bill that was supposed to be for the mil, she handed the money to the man without hesitation. Trusting people in this town has probably not the best thing, with all the muggings by handing money to the homeless. But this man seemed sweet; she could see the once small boy in his needed face. He gave her a toothless grin, and without another word, she walked off giving a smile and a wave to the man.
Without that money now she really had no need to go to the store, but she would spend a few minutes in central park and just tell Kara that when she had gotten to the store the five dollars must have fallen out of her pocket. She hated the fact that she would have to lie, but it was for the greater good and they could most likely wait another day for a jug of milk.
As she made her first steps into central park, her wandering eyes engulfed the warm sight around her. She always loved to be around trees, and not the tall buildings and construction sites that you mostly see around New York.
A voice caught her attention through the giggles and talk of the other people around her. Turning her head over to look at a girl who was a few feet away, looking up in a tree, she walked over and tapped her on the shoulder lightly. She had asked if someone was alright, and she realized now why considering it seemed like someone was up in the tree. “I don’t mean to intrude” She said in a polite concerned voice, as she began fiddling with the diamond on her bracelet, Turning her head now to look at the girl in the tree, she asked “But is she stuck?” She had seen this situation many times before here, kids or teens climb up the higher up tress and then find that they can’t get down, and it often just takes someone to help guide them down.

Jasmine scanned her surroundings, shrugging the bag off her shoulder. The bag that held everything she'd even owned which - To be fair - wasn't much.
'So here I am' She thinks, 'New York.'
She sighed as she thought of home, "There's nothing left for me there." She reminds herself harshly, "Never was."
And with that she takes off again, swinging the shabby bag around her wrist and un-twisting it again.

She flicks a piece of her chocolate brown hair off her shoulder and her pearl bracelet catches the light reflecting all the different colours of the rainbow. Jasmine holds it up so it's directly in the light and laughs a little when it sparkles better than a diamond.
"Wow," She whispers to herself "I didn't know it did that." She giggles.
Suddenly she trips on a piece of broken pavement and goes sprawling on her face. As she gets up again, her face bright pink, she feels a slight scrape on her soft palms and forehead. Wincing she inspects the cut on her head.
"Great, that's going to bruise and I'm going to look like an idiot for weeks!" She sighs, applying some water from her bottle to the little wound.

She wipes her brow and places the bottle back in her bag, she then looks around for a good place to buy a plaster, just to stop the little trickle of blood making it's way to her dark eyes.
It was then she truly took in the beautiful scenery, it was amazing how she could go from somewhere like her old shabby orphanage with little sunshine and dirt covering everywhere to a place she would have only dreamt before. The beauty of where she stood was overwhelming. Tall trees shaded many passers by from the warm sunlight that shone down on her face and body, it was in fact - a little hot. Jasmine had never really been hot as the orphanage was freezing day and night, even in the dead of summer so even this little heat was blistering. She walked over to the nearest tree and started to rummage in her broken, green, make-shift backpack.

"Ah!" She smile, producing a small white elastic band. She pulled her soft brown locks back into a ponytail and tied it up.
It was at that point she realised she wasn't alone under to tree, she checked either side of her but there didn't seem to be anyone.
"What?" She said confused, hearing a snap from above her.
She looked up and realised some crazy lady was in the tree, frowning a little she called up "Hey, need any help?"
Jasmine then looked to the girl that appeared next to her, asking the woman the same thing, "Do you know her?" She asked, wondering if it were normal in New York for people to be in trees.

Joel Reed(pronounced with a jh sound, as he was quick to remind people) was a relatively happy twenty-two-year-old paying his way through college as a barista at a small New York coffee shop. The pay was nothing fancy, but the job did have some perks. For one, there would be large gaps of time without people ordering so he could get his homework done. Another was that the owner had yet to complain about his nose-ring or ever-changing hair color. But the greatest perk of working in this coffee shop was all of the interesting people he met.
"Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel-" Except Melanie, his new coworker. She was just annoying. And wasn't she supposed to be working the cash register right now?
"What is it, Melanie?" He sighed, closing his laptop with a click. His essay on birthstones could wait.
"We've got a customer." Joel looked at her as if he thought she was an idiot. Well, to be fair, he did.
"Melanie, we're a coffee shop. We get customers. That's what we do."
"Well, I know, but- This one's scary. He looks like a vampire or something- all scary and cold and could you deal with him?"
Joel rolled his eyes. Honestly, he had no idea why his boss had thought hiring that ditzy sixteen-year-old was a good idea in the first place.
"Fine, I'll do it."
Melanie waited in the back room, listening at the door to see what happened. She couldn't hear much, but she did pick up on the distinct sound of the bells on the shop door jingling. Melanie finally bothered to poke her head out the door.
Joel was at the register, no worse for wear and the man was gone.
"What happened?"
"Well, your Dracula's apparently not much of a blood drinker. He ordered an Earl Gray Tea to go," Joel snorted. "Honestly, Melanie, if you're going to act that way with all of our regular customers, you shouldn't even be here."
"Regular customer? Who is he?"
"Dorian Roberts."

Unaware of the turmoil he'd just caused, Dorian Roberts stepped out onto one of New York's sidewalks that were filled to bursting even on a Saturday, a styrofoam cup of tea in his hand, the heat curling into the cool autumn air. If anything, the girl running off was the weirdo, he mused, blowing on his tea in an attempt to cool it down before taking a sip.
Dorian Roberts was admittedly not a completely normal teenager. That was obvious just by looking at the way he was dressed; black slacks, white button-up shirt, shined black shoes, a warm, black coat, and a dark blue scarf. He really looked more like a young business man than a seventeen-year-old going for a walk to the park. In other ways he was a bit of a typical teenager; he disliked homework, tended not to wake up too early, played the cello, and...
He stopped suddenly, hand shooting out to wrap around the wrist of a large man who was attempting to liberate Dorian's wallet from his pocket.
"Hey! Leggo, man!" the would-be thief protested loudly.
"Maybe when you let go of my wallet," Dorian hissed quietly.
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
Wrong answer, as it turns out, because "and" turned out to be "and he was a black belt in tae-kwon-doh. With a cold, determined look in his gray eyes, Dorian wrenched the man's wrist behind his back, twisting until the man let out a yelp of pain and the wallet dropped to the sidewalk. He instantly let him go, picked up his wallet, and kept walking. Some people had stopped to stare, but quickly moved on. This was New York, after all. Stranger things than well-dressed men getting their wallets back with force happened every day.

Dorian let out a little sigh as he walked away. He'd spilled some of his tea in the altercation. Great. But at least it hadn't spilled on his watch or, more importantly, his bracelet. The almost feminine silver bracelet with a single aquamarine attached had been a birthday gift from his father some years ago. It wasn't amazing, and when people spotted it they tended to give him strange looks, but the sentimental value made him keep it on every hour of the day.
When he made it to Central Park without any other notable incident, he stopped to look as a small group of people had begun to gather around a tree. He followed their gazes up, expecting to see something like a baby squirrel, and was mildly surprised to see a girl in the tree looking disoriented. Was that even legal, climbing the trees in Central Park?
But it wasn't his problem. He took another sip of his tea, now chilled to a more livably temperature, and settled down on a bench to relax.

Home, home, home. That was all that floated through the mind of the ten-year-old child as she walked on her way through Central Park. Of course, it was a bit strange that this little girl, clothed in her cover-ups, was walking by herself. The bag she carried was filled with her normal clothes, and her dance shoes. Nothing more, and nothing less, just the way she preferred it. Though, it was strange that the ten-year-old was concerned with how much her bag contained than with if she was going to be able to make it home in time. However, just before she had left her dance school, the young light brunette child had phoned her guardian to let them know that she was, in fact, going to be possibly late for dinner. She let out a sigh, and loneliness scratched at the back of her mind again.

It wasn't often that the dark brown eyed girl felt this way, and whenever she looked at the blue topaz stone that was the only charm attached to the gold-colored chain, Maris Morisollen couldn't help but smile a little again. The bracelet had been given to her by her mother who was fighting lung cancer, just weeks before the strong-willed woman passed on. That was what she did, before the sudden realization that she was tired, her feet were aching and seeming to scream for a rest, hit her like a slap to the face. Another sigh was heard from the young one as she decided to sit down on a bench not too far from a man in a suit holding a cup of something from a small coffee shop. However, little Maris found her attention dragged away from the man to the group underneath the tree.

She was more shocked, however, at the dazed and disorientated girl up within the branches of said tree. However, she stayed seated, believing that the group underneath the tree was probably more than enough for the strange woman could handle.

Tallyho lifted her head from the bark once more. That day was dreamy; the bark on the tree was starting to feel as smooth as the glass of warm milk she so badly wanted to be sliding down to the pit of her stomach. And then before she knew it, a collection of girls gathered around the great plant. Each pair of curious eyes trained themselves on the blonde as she lounged in the tree’s fork.
She didn’t respond at first, she took her time examining her rescuers. Each was doll-like, impossibly pretty but a bit stumped. And the clothes— they fell over a wide spectrum of colors. The cloth textures looked foreign, even a bit flimsy. Her gaze sunk to their feet—shoes. Shoes were a symbol of status, right? Despite their flimsy clothes, they might have actually been upper class children, perhaps?
“What…Town am I in?” she questioned as she perched upwards like a lopsided dove. Before they could answer, the blond was already scooting out of the fork, leaning forward and reaching out. She let go and clung on to another branch before she could fall anymore. She was high, but still was low enough to make toe to face contact with the tallest of the group.
“So… Where is this?” She asked. She doubled over on the branch as if she were a drying towel.

Dorian had to admit, he was paying some attention to the people around him. Like the little girl who'd sat on the bench with him, watching the tree-drama was at least mildly entertaining. The girl perched in the tree looked like she might fall any minute, flopping around on the branch, and, upon further inspector, was dressed strangely. No shoes, for one, and a weird style of clothing he hadn't really seen before. His first impression? She may in fact be on drugs. That would explain climbing trees in central park midday dressed like that.
She wasn't really loud, but he did catch her questions. Where was she? Yes, he thought, taking another sip of tea, probably a druggie.

"New York." Autumn spoke cautiously. This was getting weirder and weirder. One does not simply climb into a tree, especially one in a busy city, and not bother to know where they were. It made her uncomfortable to say the least. And the dangling feet that met her face level were most certainly unwelcome. "Do you need any help down?" Autumn probably shouldn't have asked. What if the girl said yes? How in the world was she going to help her down? But she had spoken, so she should probably at least try.

Anagenisi blinked her clear blue pool eyes at the strange girl up in the looming tree. She was odd, she seemed almost dazed in the ways of her hanging there over the branch; she was also caught back a little by her question, she began to wonder if she had amnesia or something. hearing the other girl speak and offer help, she added in with a small smile "I could possibly climb up and give you a hand?" A she stopped fiddling with her diamond.
I suppose Kara wouldn't mind if she was a little late, she thought a little hesitant. It's not like the scared woman would come near her anyways. Her psychotic foster mother would probably just scold her rather loudly from a corner.

Tallyho ceased her light swinging. New York. Her slender legs dangled lifelessly and it seemed that in one swift movement she was huddled down in the grass covering her nose. She propped herself up on her elbows and checked for blood. None.
“New…York?”
She wasn’t quite sure where that was on the map. New York.
“Is this a colony? Where is Old York?” she asked. She wasn’t going to get glassy eyed just yet, it must have been a mistake. Perhaps she was picked up by a herbalman. She had been unconscious after all, and herbalmen were always known to be the earthy type. Sticking someone up in a tree might have been some sort of ancient spiritual remedy. But then again would a herbalman really take her to such an artificial place? Even the air—
The blonde found herself caught in a violent coughing fit. Once she recovered she took another good look around.
“What an awful place this is. Have I died? What was my sin?” Her question wasn’t asked with a tone of woe. She seemed genuine, perhaps even a bit too good-humored for the situation.

Died? Sin? Oh no, she wasn't some bible thumper, was she? Autumn had had quite enough experience with them. She wasn't too fond of the idea of one around here, telling her that contacting spirits was the devils work. Though, the girl didn't sound upset. "There is no Old York. And i'm pretty sure you're not dead."
Because if she was, then Autumn was positive that this would be the most exciting day of her life. Though since everyone could see her and it was still light out, that canceled out the possibility of the girl being a spirit.

Maris, even though she paid no attention to the man she sat next to, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the girl's question. Of course, she shook her head sadly. To her, Tallyho seemed to be one of those people that abused drugs. The way she was talking, the way she was dressed, and DEFINITELY the way she handled the situation seemed to point in the direction that, yes, the girl was higher than a kite. Or, she could possibly be insane, and just not know it.

Maris shuddered a little, but made no point to move. She didn't want to really get caught up in the conversation.

Is that so….?” She mumbled. Tallyho struggled to get up. Her dress didn’t help her in the chilly weather. The others were acting so strange. In fact, people who she hadn’t even spoken to were stealing glances. Keeping her poker face solid, she made a lame march to the other side of the walk way— towards the lake.
“This is so surreal,” she whispered. She had nearly forgotten that her amethyst glowed hotter as more people approached.
She didn’t get far before she heard the brisk snapping of treetops, or rather one very peculiar tree top. She turned around to see the tree she was stuck in only moments ago, hanging lopsided. On one side its roots ripped from the ground. On the other side, its green-orange leaves hung towards the ground, like the hair of a ditzy girl tilting her head. She stopped and stared at the great plant, eager to watch it tip on its side. To confirm that what she saw was true.
And surely it did, the tree landed with a startling shuffle of a noise. It didn’t seem to land on anyone, but it definitely fell hard. Tallyho drew closer and sunk through the other girls like a spirit. It seemed that there was something odd about the spot where the tree was planted.

Something extraordinary must have been in the ground because Tallyho raised her eyebrows as soon as she set her sights on the miserable plot. She then took a single step back, turned around and offered an even gaze to the others. Long waves of locks swept and looped across her neck. “If I were you, I would go away now,” she said.
She stood in front to the plot, blocking the view from the others, but she cringed internally. There was a hand that she saw. A thin, black, reptilian hand twisting its way to the surface—and it was still coming. Why, if it wanted to, it could grab Tallyho right by her ankles.
“If I were you, I would go away now,” she repeated systematically. She was like a solider on post, really. She told the people just what the commander—her instincts, told her to say. He even told her to run away herself, but something else at the back of her head told her that these people had no idea about dealing with such creatures. How could she leave them?

Autumn had no problem with going away. Except that she couldn't move. No matter what she tried she just couldn't do it. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. That girls tone made it obvious. Of course, Autumn had no idea if the girl was warning others or was about to attack. She took a large gulp, taking the butter knife out of her purse. She was trembling like a leaf in the wind, her legs seeming like they would give away at any moment. Somehow though, she managed to stay standing.

The worst part was that she didn't even know why she was afraid. She just was. Though the piercing cold of topaz against her skin wasn't helping in the slightest. Each breath came out shaky and her heart felt like it was beating a thousand miles a second. That girl. Autumn focused her pale blue eyes on her, studying her movements. Honestly, she didn't know what she was looking for. Maybe some subtle cue that the girl wouldn't attack? Well, she didn't seem aggressive. Really, she seemed scared herself. Just what was going on?

Dorian turned his attention from whatever was going on with the tree-girl group to the stranger standing near his bench. Oh. Dorian blinked. He was blind. Not that it mattered much, but it was kind of interesting.
"I'm not sure," He said, voice cold but not rude, after another sip of his rapidly cooling tea. Which was true because honestly things were just getting bizarre, even for Central Park. "When I arrived there was a girl who apparently climbed one of the trees asking where she was. Some other girls went to talk to her, a tree suddenly fell over, and now the girl from the tree is..." He paused, craning his neck to see. Backing away and repeating something he couldn't quite make out. "Freaking out...About something."
A cold chill ran up his spine and he suddenly shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. There was something warm on his right wrist, where his bracelet was, but he didn't pay it any mind. Something was happening. Or maybe that was just one of the girls pulling out a butter knife. Regardless, staying here? Not a great idea.
Dorian stood up, hand still gripping his cup.
"Now one of the girls has a knife," He added, more for the stranger's sake than his. See, he wasn't completely mean. "Leaving might be a good idea."

Maris watched closely, but her attention was drawn from the group of girls to the blind man talking to the other one she sat next to. Not wanting to overhear, the girl scooted closer to her edge of the bench, her mind and focus now on the girls. She shivered, shuddered, and looked to her left wrist in almost a passive shock. The heat that she felt from it was scaring her.

When she heard that one girl had pulled out a knife, the little one was up and on her feet. However, she couldn't bring herself to leave, something glued her there to that very spot. Fear? Most likely, since she was starting to shake uncontrollably from it. Her eyes were wide, and she could barely process what was going on. A possible druggie, one girl wielding a knife and waving it at the direction of the fallen tree, a blind man, and apparently the person she had been sitting next to was a perfect gentleman. This must be some weird dream!

“Don’t just stand there, go away!” Tallyho called. It was amazing how rapidly the creature was rising. By then its bulbous head was crowning from the dirt.
Tallyho didn’t notice. She was more concerned about the others. Why wouldn’t they leave? Why were they just gawking at her like sheep? She began to wonder if New York was a colony shipped away by the king because they weren’t quite sharp enough to function in the working world, because they were rather dull and a danger to themselves.
By that time the cyclopean was up to his chest. Both of its scrawny arms pressed from the ground like a growing plant, and it placed each palm against the surface. Its movement— a series of other worldly snapping motions.
Tallyho grunted and turned back only to see that the cyclopean had finally pushed from of the ground. He was a bit taller than the average man, and his teeth snapped repeatedly at the teen. Or perhaps he was just trying to test his jaw before he really began to feast?
The blonde took a step back and kept her eyes closely focused on the threat.
“I told you to run,” she muttered.

The onyx beast let out quite the screech. It wasn’t too deep or too high, but somewhere in the middle and rather uneven. Almost like its voice box danced on the ridges of ripped paper, and the threads of torn cloth. Tallyho held her breath as she took a few steps back.
She too had taken a spoonful of that fear the others had. The one that kept its victim from lifting her legs to move. The cyclopean’s mossy teeth clicked, and its backward knees cracked as it shifted its weight, stretching from its time tightly enclosed in the ground.
Then, without warning the pitch of its screech grew higher as it bashed a clawed fist into the ground, barely missing the blonde’s toes.
“Will you run now?” The girl hissed. Her cool demeanor had finally begun to melt.