Chipettesrawesom44: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying this! Hmm . . . maybe I should give people ideas for deviantART drawings?
rfollman: Yeah, I couldn't decide of who should play WALL·E: Simon or Jeanette. So I had a poll (at least I think I did) and Simon was the most voted and he became the main star. I know I have a "Which Chipette should play EVE poll" and that's how Jeanette got to be EVE . . . than again, since I'm a joker/prankster/trickster, I intentionally had Jeanette in mind, knowing she would be out-of-character. I just wanted to see how many would vote for Brittany, Jeanette, Eleanor and Charlene . . . and because I already have the first chapter of an Alvin/Brittany story up and planning on having a Theodore/Eleanor story hopefully up soon . . .
UniqueRosa Damascena: Heh heh, I hope you don't mind me asking to mark your answer under my poll . . .
DISCLAIMER!
The Chipmunks rightfully belongs to both the late Ross Bagdasarian Sr. and Ross Bagdasarian Jr. as well as Janice Karman.
Ross Bagdasarian Jr. and Janice Karman holds the rights to The Chipettes.
Pooka is a fictional dog in the 1997 animated film produced and directed by Don Bluth and Gary Goldman at Fox Animation Studios called Anastasia.
It was sundown through the windows of the abandoned shopping center. The quietness sweetened by the humming sound of Jeanette's antigravity boots as she glided in fluid motion over a heap of trash inside the building. She touches down and gracefully walks on the floor. Not too far behind her, the silence was broken again by the racket of Simon riffling through the trash, trying to get over it, his heavy duty boots kicking up dust and trash everywhere he goes. Eventually he makes it and quickly catches up to the person he is drawn to but cautious enough to stay far out of her way as possible now she knows he's here, Simon still feels fortunate enough to be alive after she tried to kill him, too drawn to her like a stray dog.
Jeanette knows he doesn't seem a credible threat to her, but him following her everywhere she goes made her feel annoyed, a distraction from her directive. Jeanette searched through the shopping center lobby as Simon watches her contently from the top of a flight of stairs. She suddenly looks at him over her shoulder, he jumps thinking she's gonna shoot him, ending up falling into rows of carts behind him. The situation becoming ridiculously humorous as he's trapped in a moving cart down a flight of stairs, screaming past Jeanette and into the shops front doors, he hit face first with the avalanche of carts pilling up on him, groaning in pain from hitting his face, a mountain of carts on his body. Simon is humiliated but at least he's alright.
Jeanette watched in amazement, knowing he's there for she can hear his footsteps from a mile away. In partial annoyance, she only shot a glance at the chipmunk, trying to make him flinch to shoe him off. It only ended him making a fool of himself by injuring himself. With a pile of a hundred shopping carts pinning him to the front door, a final cart bumps into the pile, making the sliding doors open as if it knew the irony of the situation, making the carts fall on top of him. She shakes her head in utter disbelief at the sight.
"Wow," is her only response as she tries to move on to the next area.
A distraction indeed, she thinks to herself.
… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …
A cloudy, sandstorm free night fell upon the peaceful city. The bright blue lights from Jeanette's scanner lights up the dark of the dead city. Simon sat atop a giant spherical oil container. He sat there gazing lovingly at the chipette who still did what she been doing since she first arrived. She scanned a run-down fuel processing plant in the city center for any signs of what she looked for.
Jeanette reaches a flat area, not far from Simon's position. She knows he's there but doesn't bother with him, for after her first day on Earth with a close encounter, she decides to call it a night. She pulls out the cylinder that's her downsized cryonic pod. She pushes a button and drops the cylinder. Before hitting the ground, it expands into its former, full-sized pod instantly. From afar, Simon cringes at the futuristic device, if it was gonna explode in front of her. He wasn't the one for surprises. The pod opened up for her, and she lies down in it tiredly yawning, she briefly glimpses Simon eying her from the fuel tower before the pod closes, she dozes off into much needed sleep.
Seeing the opportunity to get another close look at her, he steps down carefully from the tower but fails miserably when he slips and fell head over heels. It was about twenty feet and a loud metallic crashing sound following his screams echoing through the plant as piles of trash seemed to cushion his fall. He hit something hard, new bruises formed on his head but is otherwise all right. He doesn't mind, he had far worse injuries before. He looks over the pile trash in front of the building where the chipette took shelter. She hasn't heard him. Well, it should be safe. Simon tiptoes over to the pod. It was made of a translucent metal, strangely no seam lines for it to fold-up.
So how could it be one solid piece? he thought as he circles it.
It must be a form of nanotechnology allowing different pieces of matter to fuse or separate at the atomic level. The glassy appearance all foggy white as he can see the sleeping Jeanette through the upper half of the container. He stares through the glassy barrier longingly at her. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. Simon presses his glasses and hands on the container, vexed by her image, the barrier blocking his view of her any further.
He hesitantly backs away, how was he going to communicate with her? Since he has been nearly killed by her a couple times, he thinks he shouldn't introduce himself directly. Being near her was tense enough.
"What should I do?"
He taps his fingers together, looking around as if an answer lay around somewhere on the ground, which turns out to be. He spots something in the trash pile nearby, a toilet rim and mop together.
"Hmm," he looks at them thoughtfully and back at the chipette. They kind of look like her in a way with the mops mud staned strains like her hair and the rim like her head.
"Aha!" Snapping his fingers, Simon begins riffling through trash, searching for whatever else he needs for an idea he formed. Pooka lays down on the ground nearby, watching his master pull out his tools, getting to work on his first real attempt to communicate with Jeanette. As Pooka eventually dozes off, Simon works through the night.
… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …
Come morning, Jeanette wakes up, seeming to have a peaceful rest. The pod opens up automatically as soon she was conscious. She gets out of the pod and it shrinks into pocket size, already to continue her mission...
"Huh?"
She stops at the sight of something before her. Some contraption resembling a work of art: a statue made of scrap metal, the arms and legs made of welded tubing spray-painted purple. There's a toilet rim with a some mucky strands of coarse yarn taped on top of it as a head with two Christmas tree decoration balls dangling in the center, emerald green like her eyes. She realized it was a poor rendition of her. She is bewildered of how this 'thing' got here and what it even was suppose to be anyway.
"Weird," she says to no one in particular as she takes in the image of the thing. Still confused, she shrugs it off as she walks past it to her job.
Hiding behind a rack of pipelines, Simon's heart sinks as he watched her reject his masterpiece.
He slaved over getting that thing done before she awoke and to do it right. All the chipette seemed to show was unimposing feelings with it despite Simon spending all night in the dark until mere minutes before she woke, for nothing. He berates himself for not doing a better job, how could he? He never was much of an artist himself and had limited materials and time. She still didn't acknowledge him in any way and sitting here wasn't going to do him any good.
"Dammit," he silently cursed, slightly dejectedly kicking the pipes, only to start the day with bad luck when the hundred pounds steel pipes come rolling down on top of him, screeching in surprise as a pile of pipes pinned him down. Now his art worthless, pinned by pipes too heavy to get out from, and… that's twice he made a fool of himself in front of her.