Somewhere on the coast of our ‘Little Big’ island another student awoke. I could go into detail regarding this student’s travels along the coast, and the eventual decision to forge inwards to explore the island, but that’s all been done before. With this particular student, we’re cutting ahead in time, ignoring the less than arduous trek into the island and ignoring any internal monologue that character may have had. Instead we cut to this select student, kneeling on the ground inspecting something very closely. Had a magnifying glass been present, this student would have made the effort to pick it up and put it to use. With no such device present, the student simply gazed down at the impressive sight arrayed before her.
At first it looked like a discarded play set; small buildings randomly placed around an open clearing in the crunchy long grass. Further inspection revealed more than buildings, with accompanying small people and animals, each of them far too intricate to be a simple toy. When the models began to move; each seemingly of its own accord, the mind of the examining student finally clicked with what she was seeing. This was indeed a miniature village. Wooden carriages moved about, drawn by similarly sized horses, ridden by men and women who dressed in clothing most likely gleamed from a settlement of Amish. It was as if a piece of history had been laid out before the girl, and shrunken to a far more manageable scale.
No words were spoken as our mysterious student gazed down at the diminutive display before her. The first breaking in silence came from the extension of her right arm; a single finger jutting out and poking the top of a house to verify its tangibility. The tree-sized finger made its way along the roof of the one story wood house, eventually stopping to apply slight pressure at the rear. A cracking sound resulted from the pressure as the rear of the building collapsed, the entire building breaking down from the sheer stress of the student’s simple action. The student’s reaction was the quaintest of smiles; not taking pleasure from what she had done, but more amused that this place was not some figment of her imagination. Instead the village was quite real.
The comparatively giant girl’s finger navigated its way throughout the town like a guided missile; feeling for things that were of interest. Firstly, an abandoned barrel of wine was crushed mercilessly by the insatiable digit, coating the tip of that finger in a spray of red that dripped down upon the villagers as she moved it to her mouth. The taste was sweet with an immediate bitter aftertaste, though all in all it was a worthwhile experience. This student had tasted red wine before, and she had found it to her exacting standards of beverages, luckily this wine also passed her test. After the quick taste, the finger returned to its mission in the village below, now darting about poking the various townsfolk, pushing some back and knocking several others over with no real effort. Every time the finger made contact with one of the villagers, the student’s face seemed to smirk; not a real smile, but a small glimmer of partial amusement by what she was doing. If anything, this village of tiny things amused the girl, and she continued to mess around with it as she saw fit.
Next on the finger’s list of targets was a drawn wagon, it paused in the air for a few lone seconds giving the passengers time to frantically disembark. With another show of nonchalant effort, the girl’s finger smashed right through the wagon, sending the horses running madly forward and scattering harmless debris on those who had once sat inside. One villager took offense to this act and picked up a nearby pitchfork, as the miniscule man hefted the oversized implement, the student could only watch, not quite putting the pieces together. When the man thrust the metal tool right into the still descended index finger, the student gasped as she brought it back. Expecting to see blood drawn from such a vicious attack, the girl was startled when she brought the finger in for closer inspection. Not even a scratch, or a feeling of pain. The weapon strike seemed like it had rebounded off her.
Still inspecting her finger, the student let loose a full bore smile as she lowered her face for a closer inspection of the nearby people. The man with the pitchfork now clung to his weapon for dear life, standing in front of what were likely his wife and daughter. Not sure what to expect, the man used one hand to hold the silver tipped weapon, and another to safeguard his apparent family. With no more power than a sigh, the girl blew only the slightest breath of air onto the man who dared attack her. The resulting gust caused the man and his family to fall over with pieces of the destroyed wagon flying back into the beyond. Back to her seemingly playful state, the massive girl slowly extended her right arm out towards the downed man, seemingly moving to crush him under her immense thumb. At the last moment, the hand adjusted and shot out to gracefully pick up the discarded pitchfork.
Examining the small object in her fingers for a few seconds, the girl didn’t even pay heed as the family ran off, hiding in a nearby building for shelter. Not intending to, the girl eventually snapped the strong wooden implement as she continued to examine its finely crafted shape. Discarding the pieces back into the pile below, the surviving student stood up, looking over the village from a non-kneeling perspective. Still unsure of what to make of this place, the girl began to pace around the village, making note of its fine structures and the way its toy like citizens frantically moved about in her presence. As she finished the first pass of the village, upon completing a footstep, the student noticed the building she had previously damaged was crumbling. With another step she watched as the building began to slide even further. This plain fact amused the girl greatly, and her face began to beam with delight as she continued with her experiments.
Taking a look to both sides as though making sure no one was around, the girl then stared down once at the village before hopping in place. Though invisible to her, the fallout of her miniature quake was quite noticeable. The nearby building immediately collapsed, people began to run for cover, while others avoided debris falling from their own buildings. Only exacerbating the situation, the girl jumped again, this time three in quick succession, causing untold havoc in the world below. The village hadn’t even thought to recover by the time the girl was back on her knees inspecting the damage she had brought on the poor little people. She was by no means malicious, but it had been an irresistible action, and she had been quite bored and scared since arriving. This strange and exotic place had been a type of respite for her as she casually played and inspected the poor populace below.
Before you think her a monster, it’s important to realize that this was a girl presented with an impossible situation. While her actions were certainly not the best intentioned, she was by no means intending to be hostile. Instead she treated the situation like a sort of science experiment, testing what she could and gauging the reactions of said actions. The thought that these were people just like her had never crossed the girl’s mind, and instead she was more content for the fact she had been apparently saved from the boredom the island had presented her. Even her action of skipping had been a small way to keep her amused; not caring the toll it might have on these newly discovered creatures. The inspection afterwards was very similar to the first, so the girl began to lose interest quickly.
Standing back up, the girl started to walk away from the now chaotic village. Like a child who had kicked over an anthill, the girl now left the scene of her crime, not as amused as she had originally been when discovering it. She wandered away for almost fifteen minutes, continuing to saunter along the island, looking for other inhabitants who might have been her size and not so imaginary. It was amazing that she lasted so long looking for others before she soon grew bored of that as well. The next realization was that she was hungry, and not having any survival skills at her disposal, the girl was steadily beginning to worry, though she knew she was quite a ways away from starving. Searching for food lasted only about ten minutes before the girl discovered some strange berries, berries that had a terrible aftertaste and did not seem to be completely edible. Luckily for our student the berries were not poisonous, just not something she could really digest well.
As she sat in the aftermath of snacking on the berries, the girl thought back to her encounter with the village and how amused she had been while playing with it. She knew the spot quite well and could easily return, but there seemed to be little point in doing so. She came, she saw, she messed around a bit, now she was back on her way to find others. Maybe when she had a free moment she would come back and show some of the others her amazing discovery. Who’d have imagined that there was a colony of miniature people on the island; people who had developed wagons and sound construction techniques. For all the girl knew, the next time she found such a village they might be able to speak.
They might be able to speak.
The girl had never really considered that the people would have been able to communicate with her. Now that she thought about it, she even realized that she hadn’t spoken a single word as she casually toyed with their village. Up until now, she had just considered the village a distraction for herself, but now the thought that it could be much more sunk in. What if the people in the village could speak? Maybe they had seen others walk by, and maybe they knew where exactly she was. If her natural assumption about them being nothing more than toy people was correct, she could at least return and mess around with their village a bit more. She had nothing better to do at this point.
Moving back at an almost brisk pace, our student reached the village in almost half the time it had taken her to leave. As she looked down at the tiny village and its inhabitants from her standing position, she did really see them more as bugs than people. Her handiwork was still in place, with her poked building still in ruins, though several others had now joined it; the result of her earthquake inducing hops. This time the inhabitants did not run as she approached, seemingly resigned to whatever fate this giant teenager had in store for them, or more accurately, they were prepared.
As she gazed over the damaged village, the girl noticed something different at the center of the tiny town. A large gathering of materials had been placed in a rough circle, standing atop a large wooden board. Everything from big and tiny fruits to cuts of meat, and thimble sized buckets of water and wine was displayed on the board. Not sure what to make of the offerings before her, the girl switched her view back to the assembled villagers, her jaw dropping as she saw their reaction. One by one, many of the villagers began to kneel before her, as though they assumed she was some kind of deity. The action teamed with the offering left the girl breathless, unsure how to proceed. Up until now her actions had entirely been playful in nature, but now she was presented with something much more meaningful. Was she really willing to play god to an entire village of people?
Lowering her hand to scoop up a small portion of the offering, the girl sampled some of the fruits, and then quaffed several barrels of the wine that had been left for her. She noticed during her sampling that many of the people below gazed up briefly from their kneeling state; likely trying to gauge her response to their offering. Even if she tried to resist, the girl would not have been able to. She smiled a smile so sinister that wildlife around the island paused and shuddered for the briefest of moments.
Gina Porter was indeed content.