Sonja Bahaar Posted February 2, 2013 Share Posted February 2, 2013 ~ Takes place during Learning Curve, after classes ,, Sonja glided out of the school and towards the student parking lot, her open pink long-coat swirling around her legs and a grin on her lips. It had taken a while, but she had finally gotten her BMW X6 adjusted, so she could fit behind the wheel again, though at the cost of most of the backseat room on the driver's side. ,, There had been annoyances, though. Finding out she was a mutant - she didn't have glowing eyes or blue skin, but, well, it hardly took more than a glance to tell she was more than human - the mechanics had dragged their feet on the work. Then when she had picked up her car, they had tried to over-charge her. ,, Which was kinda stupid when the client could benchpress buses. She really hadn't meant to intimidate them so badly, but she had wanted her car back, so she had simply picked it off the lift it had been sitting on. ,, She raised her fob and her silver BMW beeped as the doors unlocked. She slid in behind the wheel, luxuriating in the leather seat for a minute, a faint furrow appearing between her brows as she wondered if she really did smell a faint trace of brimstone or cigarette smoke.It was still a snug fit for her, and she was still adjusting to new sightlines, but it was hers. ,, She put the Sports Activity Coupe in gear, then peeled out of the lot with all the speed and unconcern of a young woman tougher and with reflexes greater than human. She had some running around to do and was simply happy to be driving a stylish vehicle again instead of the lumbering school van. ,, First, she stopped off at Barnes & Noble and picked up a copy of Dante's Inferno. And a copy of the Cliff Notes with only the slightest pang of guilt. ,, Next, was the main reason why she had come out. She had ordered something to gift 'Neca in return for the clothing she had arranged for her, and had gotten the call that it was in this morning from the specialist shop she had found. ,, However, when she was passing the Guiseppe Zanotti store, she couldn't help but stop in and look at the shoes. The sales associate gave her a surprised and not-quite-condescending look. She may have been dressed casually, but her clothes looked top of the line and someone as good looking as her must come from money. ,, On the other hand, she was a seven foot goliath, looming over the sales associate, despite her sky-high heels. Wistful, Sonja wasn't expecting to find anything in a size 17 and she didn't. But she could look, and take some pics with her phone. Maybe her aunts and cousins in Iceland could make something. I'll have to check to see if Zanotti, St-Laurent, or Louboutin take commissions... ,, With that detour over, Sonja finally made it to the specialty sewing machine shop. Idling before the shopfront, Sonja checked the address again on her phone, then frowned. It looked like an inconspicuous store with a very plain, brick facade... Built with a door all the way back when people on average were noticeably shorter than they are now. ,, With a sigh, Sonja climbed out of her car and wondered if they had a loading dock they would be willing to let her use. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sonja Bahaar Posted February 11, 2013 Author Share Posted February 11, 2013 Sonja ducked and twisted her way through the door, even turning sideways, though considering her proportions, that wasn't much of an improvement with the narrow doorway. Finally wedging herself through the door, Sonja stood up to her full height, straightened her shoulders, and sighed once more. ,, The store was neatly organized and spotless, with bolts of fabric lining the outside walls and various sewing machines and other items used in the industry on the low shelves making up the aisles. But the aisles were narrow and the ceiling barely higher than Sonja's head. She wasn't claustrophobic precisely, but she felt like she was crawling through a rabbit's warren in the enclosed space. ,, Sonja carefully maneuvered her way to the counter at the back of the store, only jostling one shelf with a swinging hip, giving the woman behind the counter a sheepish smile as she steadied the shelf. Stepping up to the counter, Sonja had to lean forward slightly to get a full view of the woman over the thrust of her bust. ,, The woman was short - under five feet - stocky, with dark, Mediterranean skin lined and creased with age, though her hair was as glistening and black as Oneca's. She peered up at the towering blonde with baleful black eyes through thick, round glasses. Her lips were pursed with disapproval. ,, "Um, yes, hello. I'm Ms. Bahaar. You - I mean the store - called, telling me my order was in? A Bernina 580 and several bolts of fabric?" Sonja explained tentatively. ,, The matronly woman snorted and grimaced, flashing a hint of surprisingly white and straight teeth, incongruous with her weathered appearance. "I see why you're needing a high end machine like the Benina, girl," the woman said crossly, in a rough, smokey voice with a vague Italian accent. "In my day, young women had the decency to stop growing at a proper size. None of this seven foot nonsense with utters that would be out of place on a dairy cow." ,, Sonja twisted her lips wryly and stopped hunching her shoulders. "Yes, well, it's not for me, but for my sister. She's the one with the skill in this," Sonja said, fingering her pink long coat. "Everything I ordered is in?" ,, Sonja hadn't known anything about sewing machines, so had simply intended to get the top-of-line (ie most expensive) model. Then she had found out how much they could cost. As grateful as she was for 'Neca's gift of the clothes, she wasn't going to get her the equivalent of a car. Even stepping down a few levels, she was still spending several weeks of her very generous allowance. On the other hand, she fully intended to get 'Neca to make her a few more things, and not any of that corseted, gothy style. ,, The proprietor grunted. "If she crafted your garments, she still needs practice." She began typing deftly on a keyboard next to the old fashioned cash register. "The Bernina 580 is in, as are the bolts of velvets, lace, silk, satin, and two Victorian prints. These are the colours you wanted yes?" She spun around the monitor, which Sonja had to crouch down to see properly. The woman sniffed. "These tones, I wouldn't expect someone with your colouring to wear." ,, "They're not for me, but for my sister, I said," Sonja growled with a frown. "But can you add a bolt of Italian Doupioni silk in that jewel-toned pink I see there?" ,, The old woman arched a brow. "I suppose. You'll also want a good pair of shears, a number of spools of thread, needles of course..." ,, Sonja was starting to look a little bewildered as the woman finally began winding down on what was 'absolutely necessary.' "... and a multi-pronged rack for the fabric - they can't just be scattered about on the ground like trash, you know, young, over-sized woman. This is your total." The woman tapped the screen, a viciously cheerful grin on her aged face. "Will that be cash or credit." ,, Sonja huffed and gave the woman a flat look. The problem was, she had made it all sound so reasonable, so she couldn't tell if she was being scammed. Guess I have to wait a few more weeks before inquiring if Christian Louboutin does custom jobs... Sonja pulled out her Platinum card and handed it over with a sigh. "Credit today. Um, do you have a docking door I can use, to load up my car?" ,, "Yes. And now I'll know who to call if I need a fork-lift. Come around back. It'll be a few minutes for the boys to gather up the rest of purchases. Thank-you for shopping at Magdelene's and please come again." ,, Right... I think I'll just keep ordering from my aunts and cousins in Iceland. I feel like Godzilla in here. Sonja slowly made her way out of the shop and climbed back in her car. It took a few minutes for find her way behind the strip mall, all the while wondering how the hell delivery trucks managed the narrow service road. She backed into the loading dock just as the loading door was rolled up. Despite the slope for the trucks, Sonja's height made it easy to gather her purchases from the loading bay. She had more trouble with the receiver nearly dropping some of them on her while he took his time gawking. ,, But soon, the trunk and backseat were packed up with her purchases and she was back on the road, in a good mood. She had finally gotten something to thank her sister without having to say it out loud, and she might even get a few more items of clothing - made to order - out of it. As she cruised down the country road back towards Lawrence Hunt, bubbly pop music was blaring from the silver Beemer, Sonja singing along in a rich, womanly, if amateurish, voice. ,, Thus, she missed the giant, metallic humanoid flying overhead, the sound of it's engines covered by bubble-gum pop. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sonja Bahaar Posted February 17, 2013 Author Share Posted February 17, 2013 "I kissed a girl and I liked it/the taste of her cher-" ,, CRASH! The huge Dreadnought slammed onto the road ahead of Sonja, feet cracking the pavement. Sunlight glinted off black, purple, and chrome coloured steel as it raised a hand, a circle in its palm beginning to glow an ominous, actinic blue. ,, "Mutant designated Barbie Tee-Em! Please debark from your vehicle for immediate elimination!" boomed the Dreadnought's noninflected, electronic voice. "You have five seconds to comply! One..." ,, "Holy giant metal man!" Sonja yelled in surprise, tires squealing as she slammed on the breaks, the silver BMW sliding in a skid towards the shoulder, thankful that at least the road to Lawrence Hunt was currently empty save for her. "This is not happening! Not now!" ,, "... Five!" ,, A coruscating bolt of blue-white energy shot from the mutant-killing machine. Sonja barely had time to dive out of her car - wrenching the door and snapping the seat-belt in the process - before electricity licked all across the vehicle. The windows shattered and the car alarm went wild before dying in a molasses-like whine. ,, "No!" Sonja growled, her first thought being for her safety. She crawled to her knees from being sprawled out on the ground. ,, "Noooo!" Sonja wailed, her second thought being for Oneca's gift. She glanced over her shoulder at her car. The engine began to hiss, tendrils of smoke seeping around the hood. ,, "Nooooooo!!!" Sonja exclaimed, her third thought being for her car. Sonja stood up and glared at the Dreadnought standing less than fifty yards away. "Are you fucking serious?! I just got my car back, motherfucker!" ,, "Thank-you for complying with Mutant Elimination Protocols!" the Dreadnought said in a cheerful, emotionless monotone. "Please remain still to make Barbie Tee-Em elimination efficient and sufficiently painful! Remember to vote, it is a civic duty!" ,, "Remember me ripping your head off! It's a civic duty!" Sonja retorted, super-charged adrenaline flowing through her veins as she rushed the Dreadnought like the Queen of all Lingerie Football League defensive tackles. ,, Another bolt of electricity shot from the Dreadnought's palm, slamming the big, buxom, blonde right in the chest. She must've blacked out for a second, because next thing Sonja knew, she was sitting up from the seriously dented roof of her car with a groan, vision obscured by platinum blond hair that was frizzed into something resembling a monstrous - and monstrously ugly - perm. ,, "Error! Ripping head off of unit D-1234 is not a civic duty. In addition to Mutant Designation, you are charged with improper application of civic duty. The penalty is annihilation." ,, Her groan turned into cough, a puff of smoke escaping from between her lips. The scent of burnt hair and smoldering cloth tickled her nose and her muscles quivered achingly so much, it felt like her skin was about to burst. She couldn't see her wound below her breasts, but could the feel the pain permeating her entire body with every breath she took. Also, her bra had snapped in two. ,, Fury reddened her sight as Sonja stood up again, unaware that her feet were already touching the ground, despite her supine position on the car roof. She glared at the Dreadnought with absolute hate, her indigo eyes hard and dark. The day had started out so good and now this! "I've had just about enough of this!" ,, She charged the Dreadnought once more, moving faster than she ever had before, the ground shaking violently under each step she took. And there must've been something messed up with perspective, since with each step, this Dreadnought started looking smaller and smaller, maybe even shorter than her. ,, Due to shockwave rippling the pavement, the Dreadnought missed with its next blast and it didn't get time for another as Sonja slammed her considerable strength and bulk backed by super-speed into the undersized Dreadnought. The metal machine tumbled and skidded across the ground, kicking up a slew of sparks. Sonja zipped after it like a pale blur, stopping its motion stomping a foot down in the middle of its back, pounding the Dreadnought three feet into the ground. ,, "Destruction of Governmental Property," the machine commented in a tinny, distorted voice. "The penalty is-grrr-brrr-zzt-zzt-creench!" ,, Sonja bent over, placed a hand on either side of its head and with a powerful exertion, ripped it right off. Sonja looked at the head in her hand, watching the glow of its electric eyes dim, then go out. "Told you I'd rip your head off." ,, Sonja staggered and winced as a fresh spasm wracked her body, even as she could feel the blast she had taken begin to knit. She shook her head - feeling her impossibly frizzy hair following a second later - then frowned when she could see again. The Dreadnought suddenly looked as big as the first one she had seen. Maybe it was the way it was stretched out on (in) the road and she had stomped it pretty flat... ,, "Well, can't just leave it here." Sonja pulled it out of the hole and dragged it across the ground towards her car with one hand, the other holding on to the head. ,, Tossing the head on to the passenger seat, Sonja assessed the damage. Roof crumpled, driver side door won't close, all the glass shattered, and the engine... something that wouldn't allow it to start. She was pissed. I wonder if I can claim this under Act of God? With more trepidation, she checked on the things she had gotten for Oneca. She had to pop the locks, since the power locks had been fried from the bolt of electricity. ,, Most of the glass had shattered outward and she was able to brush off the rest, but some of the bolts of fabric had been singed around the edges. They're still good... mostly. One of the packets of needles had been magnetized into a clump. She wasn't sure if that was a problem or not. Finally, she checked the trunk and the sewing machine, chewing a lip worriedly. The box was a little battered from being jostled around, but there was no scorch marks or anything. ,, Assuming it was okay - because she didn't want to conceive otherwise - Sonja closed the trunk and straightened up with a sigh. Checking her own damage with a hand, Sonja found her wound healed up, the skin still tender and a bit rough with the shrinking remains of blisters. But there was a big, round hole in her shirt, the edges crispy, and she was showing off serious underboob. ,, Sonja pulled her pink longcoat close and tied the belt, then carefully placed the Dreadnought on the roof of her BMW X6, tying it in place with bungee cords. The legs and arms hung nearly to the ground, but it would do, she guessed. She secured the driver door the same way. Then she put the car in neutral, grateful it was manual transmission and the gear shift was miraculous in good shape. ,, The very disheveled amazonian teen moved to the front of her car, reached behind herself with both hands and got a grip on the bumper, lifting the front of the car off the ground. She could have lifted it entirely, but it would be awkward on the run. Sonja began to walk, then shifted into a light jog, then a long, smooth ground-eating lope, going over two-hundred miles an hour. Not fast for her, but she could maintain it for a good length of time and going much faster, she'd worry about the wheels of her car... not that the damage wasn't extensive enough already. ,, "'Neca better appreciate the sewing machine and fabric," Sonja muttered as she ran down the road, hoping she wasn't risking a speeding ticket - she wasn't sure she could stand another setback at the moment. "Maybe Curtis and-or Sakurako will want a Dreadnought to play with? When's their birthdays? But the head is mine!" Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sonja Bahaar Posted February 21, 2013 Author Share Posted February 21, 2013 Winter was slow in releasing its grip, the days just starting to grow noticeably longer, so it was full dark by the time Sonja made it back to Lawrence Hunt, her breath frosting the air. Thank God for small favours, since Sonja was too keen on others seeing her in her disheveled state - she had tried to tame her electifried, frizzy hair, but it had been a losing war. At least the darkness helped conceal her and the few who were out tended not to linger. ,, Like the campus security guard minding the student and faculty parking lot, who did a double take at seeing the blond giantess pulling her car back, a leg of the Dreadnought kicking up sparks as it dragged along the ground. Well, he noticed the totaled vehicle and mutant killing machine after managing to pry his eyes off of Sonja's prominent chest tenting her pink coat, at eye level and made even more insistent due to the way her arms stretched behind her to grip her car. ,, "Um, Ma. Bahaar, is there a problem?" Frank ventured, removing his cap and scratching his head. "Anything I can do to help?" ,, "Just some minor car trouble," Sonja responded blithely, planting the X6 in her assigned parking space. She gave it an irritated frown, then arched a fair brow at Frank. "Maybe you can call a garage while I unload it?" ,, "Er, I suppose, I guess," Frank said, eying the wrecked car with uncertainty. It wasn't quite beyond repair, but it was a close thing. ,, As Frank waddled away to find the number of the garage the school used for campus vehicles, Sonja began unloading her car of personal items and Oneca's gifts. She considered her car, wondering if she dared trust some of the brainiacs in school to fix it, but realized she didn't want it ending up being able to fly or be submersible or have an ejector seat. ,, Sonja had just finished removing everything she wanted from her car, when she heard a faint click, then a warbling hum. Slowly and warily, Sonja twisted around at the waist. A few faint sparks of electricity arced across the bulk of the Dreadnought, its limbs twitching and lights blinking. Sonja glanced at the head she was holding, but it still seemed dead. Then the Dreadnought - the... body, not the head - spoke. ,, "Self-Destruct in Five!... Four!... Three!... Two!... One!" a staticky electronic voice warned in maliciously cheerful tones. "Thanking for participating with the Mutant Control Protocol System! Please have nice day!" ,, KABOOM! ,, The towering teen's hands were full. She had the sewing machine in one hand, the Dreadnought head balanced on top, a bag dangling from her fingers, and the strap of her bulging purse over her wrist. Her other hand was steadying the plastic-wrapped rolls of fabric over her shoulder, fingers looped through another bag. The load was hardly heavy for her, but it was awkward, though her size made it a bit more manageable. ,, So when the Dreadnought exploded - taking the rest of her car with it - Sonja couldn't use her arms to defend herself... not if she wanted to damage Oneca's gifts. Her hair blew back under the shockwave of the explosion and she could feel the heat of the flames on her face through the chill air. She spun and twisted using her own body to protect the bags and boxes she was holding, small bits of debris bouncing off her tough body, though adding more rips to her pants and shirt, as her coat had flared open with her movements. A faint sound made Sonja glance upward... ,, PONK! ,, The wheel thrown up in a high, narrow trajectory by the explosion finally came down, bouncing off Sonja's head and leaving a tire track on her fair-skinned forehead. Her large, indigo eyes scrunched up against threatened tears. It wasn't that it had hurt, though it had been surprising, but the silver BMW X6 had been her sweet sixteen present and she had only gotten to use to use for a few months before her growth spurt, and now this! She wasn't sure her parents would be willing to replace it or not. ,, "Perfect! Just perfect!" Sonja huffed angrily, somewhat put-out that she couldn't plant her hands on her hips with her hands full. At least she still had 'Neca's presents, and relatively unscathed too. She glared at the Dreadnought Head sitting on top of the sewing machine box. Its impassive, metallic face seemed to be grinning mockingly at her. ,, "Jesus H Christ! What happened?!" Frank exclaimed, waddling back as fast as he could, staring at the smoldering remains of the Dreadnought and Beemer. ,, "I believe the engine overheated a bit," Sonja replied with dry understatement that would do the British Alex proud. "You can tell the garage there's no rush, I suppose, but you might want to get a fire extinguisher or see if Glacia or that senior Soak is around, so the fire doesn't spread. 'Kay? Later." ,, Giving Frank a shrug that passed as a wave with her hands full, Sonja strode away before the explosion drew more eyes, her long legs carrying her quickly. Almost done, just one more obstacle, and I'll be able to repay 'Neca's uncharacteristically thoughtful kindness. I hope Kia is there... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sonja Bahaar Posted February 28, 2013 Author Share Posted February 28, 2013 "Kia? What are you up to? Are you in your room? Is my sister there?" ,, "Who - Sonja?!" Kia queried looking at the number on her phone, surprised to hear Sonja's deep, rich voice at this time. "I - no, Oneca's not here. She's with Warren I guess. I was just doing some homework." There was a pause and Sonja could picture the perky, petite freshman tilt her said to the side with curiosity. "Why?" ,, "Good, good. Open your window," Sonja said, glossing over the question. "Mmm, all the way." ,, "Okay... but why?" Kia pressed, skipping over to the large window between her and Oneca's side of the dorm-room, but the line went dead. ,, She slid the window up, forcing it a bit when it stuck, but before she could peek her head out to take a look, a large - and yet still unfairly pretty - hand appeared, grasping the sill, Kia squeaked and took a step back when the hand was shortly followed by a head of silvery-white hair so frizzy and poofy is sort of resembled a giant ball of dandelion fluff. ,, "Surprise for 'Neca," Sonja grunted after spitting out a strand of smokey tasting hair from her mouth. She moved the box containing the sewing machine through the window with her other hand. "Here, take this. I have more stuff." ,, Peering at the unmarked, slightly dinged box as if she could see inside it if she looked hard enough, Kia took it and set down next to Oneca's bed. When Kia turned back to the window, she found three bolts of fabric being shoved at her. ,, "Here." ,, "Being a surprise, I... guess that's why you're coming through the window?" Kia conjectured uncertainly, noting some mild singeing along the edges. "What's the surprise for?" ,, "She'll know what it's for," Sonja said, somewhat ominously. ,, Two more trips, three more bolts of fabric, two bags of sundry items, and another box later, Sonja squeezed through the window, a tight fit with her broad shoulders and impressive chest. Turning around, Kia gasped, hands going to her mouth, as Sonja straightened up, noting the tire track on her forehead, the burnt hole in her shirt seen through her gaping coat, and her generally disheveled and beaten appearance. ,, "What happened to you?!" Kia exclaimed. Cutely. ,, "Car trouble," Sonja muttered wryly. There was a thump, then with a flick of her foot, Sonja rolled the Dreadnought head towards Kia. "Big car trouble. Keep an eye out for 'Neca while I set this stuff up." ,, Seeing no other place, Sonja piled everything on Oneca's desk - very little of it having anything to do with school - under her chair, then opened the large plain box, pulling out the slightly smaller box containing the Bernina 580 sewing and embroidery machine. There was the squeak of Styrofoam as she removed if from the packing and set it up on the desk. ,, She answered Kia's incessant questions while she put together the fabric rack and slid the bolts of fabric down on the spokes. One spoke listed to the side, but it thought better of actually falling off under the furious glare Sonja was giving it. Sniffing with contempt and asserting her dominion over the inanimate object, Sonja piled the spools of thread, needles, fancy cloth cutting scissors, and such next to sewing machine, and placed the instructions right under the place where the needle would go, so they were obvious. ,, Then she stepped back to admire her work, Kia silently joining her. After a long moment, Kia craned her neck up near the two meet the over-sized sophomore's eyes. ,, "That's a sewing machine?" ,, "Um... yes?" ,, It looked like a sewing maching. It also looked like it could make an espresso while doing your taxes. There was a touch-screen monitor on the arm with full colour and a port to hook it up to a computer. Sonja was privately grateful that in had come in one piece, otherwise she thought she might have needed Curtis or Sakurako to put it together. ,, "So, yeah, if you can, please don't tell 'Neca where it came from, 'kay? Don't even mention it." It was a request, but the firm light in Sonja's deep, indigo eyes make it more than just a request. ,, "I won't, I promise," Kia chirped earnestly. ,, "Thanks, Kia," Sonja gave her a grateful squeeze on the shoulder, her hand engulfing it. Sonja slipped into their bathroom, cleaning her face and trying to little success to fix her hair with water and a brush, then did her best to hide it under her coat and belted it close to conceal her ruined - and revealing - shirt. "Seeya around, and remember, mum's the word." ,, Sonja scooped up the Dreadnought head and box of ripped packaging, peeked out the door to make sure the coast was clear, gave Kia a wave, then strode down the hallway towards her own room. What she really wanted was a bath, but the tub was uncomfortably small for her now, so she'd have to settle for a shower instead. Then she'd have to call Mom about her car and see what she could do about the damage to her hair - she could still smell singed hair. ,, Yet her mood had brightened some. Despite unforeseen obstacles, she had done her sister a good turn. They might have fought all the time, but she still loved her, and while she found 'Neca's tastes in fashion deplorable, she did have talent and was glad to encourage it. Maybe if she pursues it, she'll learn some responsibility too... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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