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scott_sanfordIt’s a double feature this week. Take two, they’re small!
Museums are supposed to be quiet. This one was no exception, for now.
A few people moved slowly among the exhibits; one woman, anonymous in a black niqab, stopped in front of a display of ancient glass bottles.
Next to one specific bottle a placard read “Djinn fi kuli makan.” The visitor didn’t read Arabic, didn’t have to, and still knew it meant ‘Genie, in every place.’ Gathering dust in a museum is a poor replacement for being everywhere.
Other visitors were about, none near enough to react in time. A single shrug let a hammer slide out of her sleeve into her hand; it flashed out, smashing open the glass case and setting off howling alarms. Elsewhere guards sprang to life, shouting and carrying on, but they were far away in other rooms. She reached inside to the only important bottle and deftly pulled out the stopper. It was easy from outside.
Smoke erupted from the bottle, far more than could naturally fit inside. Behind her people were screaming and running in all directions, but the black clad figure ignored them.
She said nothing but gave a thumbs up gesture to the cloud and vanished for parts unknown. The smoke filled the room, roiling ominously, and began to collect itself into a human shape.
Museums are supposed to be quiet. People would be talking about this day for a long time to come.
Jenny climbed up the thick ivy clinging to the stone wall, thinking to herself that a castle should not be this easy to get into. But that was someone else’s problem. If that someone else turned out to also be Jenny Everywhere, great, she could handle it.
People were running around and shouting down below, not very far away. She’d obviously arrived in the middle of something.
She pulled herself level with an arrow slit and said, “Hello, inside? I’ve brought something important for someone.”
“Thank you!” came a relieved voice. The woman within sounded stressed. “I had a prophetic dream that I would receive help from afar but it is a blessing to know you have arrived.”
From inside someone was pounding on a wooden door, hard.
“Genevieve!”, shouted a man. “The baron comes for the one styling herself Princess of Everywhere!”
She’d definitely arrived in the middle of something.
“Yeah, you're the one I brought this for,” Jenny said.
Jenny took the revolver out of her pocket and passed it through the arrow slit butt first, and felt it taken from her hand. With only six bullets, Jenny hoped she used them well.
“My gratitude. This will help immensely.”
“Good luck,” she called, and headed back down the outer wall. The other Jenny could take it from here.
Museums are supposed to be quiet. This one was no exception, for now.
A few people moved slowly among the exhibits; one woman, anonymous in a black niqab, stopped in front of a display of ancient glass bottles.
Next to one specific bottle a placard read “Djinn fi kuli makan.” The visitor didn’t read Arabic, didn’t have to, and still knew it meant ‘Genie, in every place.’ Gathering dust in a museum is a poor replacement for being everywhere.
Other visitors were about, none near enough to react in time. A single shrug let a hammer slide out of her sleeve into her hand; it flashed out, smashing open the glass case and setting off howling alarms. Elsewhere guards sprang to life, shouting and carrying on, but they were far away in other rooms. She reached inside to the only important bottle and deftly pulled out the stopper. It was easy from outside.
Smoke erupted from the bottle, far more than could naturally fit inside. Behind her people were screaming and running in all directions, but the black clad figure ignored them.
She said nothing but gave a thumbs up gesture to the cloud and vanished for parts unknown. The smoke filled the room, roiling ominously, and began to collect itself into a human shape.
Museums are supposed to be quiet. People would be talking about this day for a long time to come.
Jenny climbed up the thick ivy clinging to the stone wall, thinking to herself that a castle should not be this easy to get into. But that was someone else’s problem. If that someone else turned out to also be Jenny Everywhere, great, she could handle it.
People were running around and shouting down below, not very far away. She’d obviously arrived in the middle of something.
She pulled herself level with an arrow slit and said, “Hello, inside? I’ve brought something important for someone.”
“Thank you!” came a relieved voice. The woman within sounded stressed. “I had a prophetic dream that I would receive help from afar but it is a blessing to know you have arrived.”
From inside someone was pounding on a wooden door, hard.
“Genevieve!”, shouted a man. “The baron comes for the one styling herself Princess of Everywhere!”
She’d definitely arrived in the middle of something.
“Yeah, you're the one I brought this for,” Jenny said.
Jenny took the revolver out of her pocket and passed it through the arrow slit butt first, and felt it taken from her hand. With only six bullets, Jenny hoped she used them well.
“My gratitude. This will help immensely.”
“Good luck,” she called, and headed back down the outer wall. The other Jenny could take it from here.
<- Back to part 3 or forward to part 5 ->
The character of Jenny Everywhere is available for use by anyone, with only one condition. This paragraph must be included in any publication involving Jenny Everywhere, in order that others may use this property as they wish. All rights reversed.
