[Nexus] Inside 37

[Beans]

[Park]
Carrie's grip on her cane is white-knuckled as she flips the fan open and closed even more rapidly.

[Rebonack]

[Amil's Apartment]

It sounds like a cracking egg.

If the egg shell were about an inch thick and filled with something even more viscous and ill-smelling than eggs usually are. The chrysalis splits along the back and near the head as whoever or whatever is trapped inside struggles to escape. Wriggles and strains and purplish black gunk squelches out of the gaps in the hard shell.

With a sickening splintering sound followed by an even more sickening slurping sound as the thing that was growing inside the chrysalis tumbles out and onto the floor. It looks...

Well...

It looks like the genestealer that Rot had killed.

Though with a noticeably more feminine frame. And a face stolen from Amil. If Amil were a horrible alien monster without any nose or ears.

...and wearing her pants on her head.

The thing convulses and heaves, vomiting a mouthful of sticky black gunk onto the already ruined carpet. Two larger clawed arms brace against the floor while the two more human limbs brace the alien's gut as she continues to hurl.

Yuck...

She rises to her feet, wiping her mouth with a larger arm and still clutching her stomach with the smaller pair. Feels like she could start puking again at any moment. Into the bathroom she staggers, nauseous and dizzy and generally completely out of it. Turns on the sink. Splashes water in her face.

Looks up the mirror.

"-oh..."

Backs up right into the wall, recoiling in disgust and fear.

"oh gods..."

And begins throwing up in the toilet this time.

[Artemis97]

[Grey Neighborhood]

Beckett will have a somewhat easier time lifting the lid of the dumpster now. His efforts have caused the debris on top of the lid to shift and scrape, sliding off to one side.

[Slums]

Things were darker here in the slums. Even darker than usual with the recent near destruction of the city. Half collapsed structures were covered in strange substances, all dark and strangely organic looking. Scorchmarks marred the narrow streets and soot stained the walls. Here and there, smoke rose from fires that were slowly burning themselves out.

Few people were on the streets. Perhaps they were still in hiding, or there simply weren't all that many left in the aftermath of the narrowly avoided apocolypse.

One young woman walked through this ruined, rundown section of the city. Calling her a girl might be more accurate, though her nature made her look older than she was. She was tall with a somewhat curvey figure. Her long hair was a deep chestnut brown and fell down in ringlets from the pink ribbon which held it back in a ponytail. Her clothing was much nicer than would be expected of inhabitants of the area. In fact, they were probably tailor made to fit her unique figure, particularly the crisp white halter-top styled button down shirt, the back left open to allow room for the pair of red feathered wings that sprouted from her back. Her wings, together with the pair of small red horns that stuck out from under her hairline, belied her fiendish heritage.

The young half-fiend was looking quite lost as she wandered through the slums. She thought to ask someone, but most of the people just shied away from her. Besides, it had to be close, right?

"Where are you headed, honey?" A rough voice called out to her. "You look a bit lost."

The girl turned to see a gaunt man in a dirty longcoat standing in a gap between two buildings. "I can help you find your way home."

"I'm not trying to find my way home, sir." The girl explains as she walked over to the man. "I need to find-"

She stopped speaking when the man grabbed her by the wrist. "No, you shouldn't be out here. Come on." He turned and walked into the narrow alley, pulling her along with him.

"Wait, I just need to find. Ow!" The girl cried out when the gaunt man yanked on her arm. "Stop! You're hurting me!"

The man spun about, faster than she could anticipate, and backhanded her across the face. The sudden blow brought tears into her eyes. "Please... stop. Why are you doing this?"

"Shut up." The man snapped, pushing her up against the grimy bricks of the alley wall. "You don't want to make me have to mess up that pretty face of yours, now do you?" He asked, pressing a rusty blade close to her cheek.

"Please..." She begged, tears streaming down her face.

"Ah... what'd I say?" The man said, sliding the the knife down to her throat. At the same time, he slid his other hand down her thigh. The frightened girl froze and closed her eyes, praying that he would stop, that someone would have heard her, that her family would find her and fix everything.

A wet, sickening sound reached her ears, and suddenly the man was no longer holding her against the wall. A sharp curse drew her attention and she opened her eyes. The gaunt man was laying face down in a dark puddle on the floor of the alley. He wasn't moving, and the puddle was slowly growing larger. A dark figure stood over him, hidden in the shadow of the building. Two eyes, glowing red, looked out from the darkness at her.

The girl stifled a scream and slowly edged her way along the wall away from the figure. "Oh... oh gods... you killed him."

"He would have done the same to you." The figure said, stepping over the body. He was a young man, perhaps a few years older than the girl, dressed in oversized clothes that were well worn and patched in places. His skin was an odd shade of blue, and his pointed ears and slight frame indicated some trace of elvish blood. His eyes were red, behind thick rimmed glasses, as was his hair. It made for a somewhat shocking contrast with his skin. He carried a this serrated blade, now stained with blood. A cut through his thick sweater revealed a gash across his chest. "And probably a lot worse." He added, looking her up and down.

"Y..you're hurt." The half-fiend noticed. "I can find some bandages."

The young man shook his head while wiping off his knife. "No. I'll be fine. We just need to get you out of here, before someone else decides you look like an easy target."

"No, I can't, I need to find-"

He raised a hand, stopping her. "Look, I don't know who you are or why you're down here, but you need to understand this. Killing you would have been the kindest thing he did to you." The young man said, pointing down at the corpse. "And there are worse things out here than him. Do you understand that, sweetheart?"

"I'm not your sweetheart." The girl protested. "My name is Victoria. Victoria Rock."

The young man sighed and extended his empty hand. "My name is Marcus."

Victoria shook his hand. "Thank you for saving me, Marcus."

He was quick to let go, rubbing the side of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah... well... you're welcome. Just... don't make me need to go doing again, okay?" Marcus asked.

"I won't." Victoria promised.

"Right." Marcus stepped out of the alleyway, taking a cautious look around before walking out onto the street. "So, what are you doing down here anyways?"

"I was looking for the Black Dragon's Den." Victoria explained, falling into step beside him.

Marcus gave her an odd look. "Why would you ever want to go to that hole?"

"My Uncle runs it."

"Your Uncle?"

"My Uncle Raril."

"Raril Xar'Cha?" Marcus exclaimed, wide eyed. "What have you gotten me into?" The young man muttered, as he turned towards the docks.

[Rebonack]

[Amil's Apartment]

Once the stomach distress settled down the first thing the jeanstealer does is head into the shower. There's foul smelling... stuff all over her and... oh gods... now what?

There's a snap as her claws sheer through the shower-head as she tries to adjust it. That's okay... Can still use that. Just turn the water on and-

Rips the handle off.

Water begins spraying out of the ruined shower knobs.

She snarls in frustration and pounds her fist against the wall. Eeerr... through the wall. *crunch!*

At this point she just does the best she can to scrape as much of the slime off as possible...

Eventually she stumbles back into her living room, dripping wet with a soaking pair of pants still stuck on top of her head. And as absurd and stupid as it seems she can't seem to bring herself to remove them.

What... What happened to her? She...

Remembers.

Being killed. Fighting... a vampire? On a roof? But other things, too. Lots of other things. Flashes. Fragments. Images. Of so many different people. Those aren't all... her. Are they?

Some men. Some women. Some human. Others not. Just single words. Single smells. Single sights. Nothing solid. Nothing firm.

She remembers... The day at the office. Coming home. Going to sleep. And then... She looks down at her claws and cringes. Then this. But... who is she? Which who is she? Couldn't possibly be all of them. So she must be...

Must be...

...what was her name?

A pounding at the door. "Amil? Are you okay in there? I heard some crashing around."

Amil! That was her name. Right? Then why does Jeany keep popping into her head? And what about that voice? That was... oohh... She knows that voice it's...

"I'm okay Rahel!" she hears herself call back. "I... uuhhh... Saw a rat. A big one."

Silence.

"Your voice sounds weird Amil. If you went and turned into a werewolf or something I'm increasing your rent. You don't pay enough for me to deal with that crap."

And then footsteps.

He's leaving!

[Lady Serpentine]

[Crash Site - Red Zone]

The aforementioned raven (dark red, with a human mouth in its chest) will take off from the roof, and begin to descend towards Adele. Assuming nothing interrupts its flight, it will say (through the chest-mouth, naturally), when within earshot:

"Greetings. My name is Rael Kairos. I think that we could both benefit from a conversation. However, at the moment, you look as though you could use something to eat, though in your case something to drink seems like it might be a more appropriate term. If you would care to follow the bird, it will be provided."

[Gullara]

[Crash Site - Red Zone]

Adele whirls to face the bird, suspicion clear on her face. "Who are you?" She hisses, not moving from her spot as of yet. The three nulls look up from their meal to watch the raven, and to attack if necessary.

[Lady Serpentine]

"I'm a recent addition to this area. If you're asking what I am, I'm a 300 year old vampire and mage. If you're referring to the fact that I'm speaking out of a rather odd looking raven, it's something I created. I had business in other parts of the city, and this allows to me to, in effect, be in two places at once."

[Gullara]

[Crash Site - Red Zone]

Adele shakes her head, scowling fiercely at the raven. "I'm not going anywhere, so if you want to talk, talk." She's not happy about this. Another vampire equals competition.

[Lady Serpentine]

[Crash Site - Red Zone]

"Very well. I simply though you might be more comfortable when you weren't hungry. However, that's your problem. In any case, to get to the point: How did you turn into a swarm of bats, and what are those creatures?"

He'll also try to magically determine what she's thinking.

(Deadtiming for anywhere from fifteen minutes to half an hour, or a little more)

[Gullara]

[Crash Site - Red Zone]

Adele actually looks rather well fed. She's fairly good at this being a vampire business. "Why should I tell you anything?" Rael not actually being present seems only to enhance her suspicion.

Any attempt to read her thoughts is repelled by a chaotic mess of thoughts. Anger and hunger is all he'll be able to glean from his attempt.

((And I happen to be deadtiming for nine hours. >.>))

[Lady Serpentine]

Odd. I thought you'd said that she was too hungry to care a bout the Kroot being intelligent. Looking at her sheet, it seems the only reason she went feral was because of her unhingedness.

Anyway:

"Because I could teach how you how to make better servants than that, for one thing. Just as loyal as they seem to be, but quite a bit smarter. I could teach you how to make yourself even stronger than you are."

[Ashen Lilies]

Spoiler

Show

[Streets - Care]

Care sits lies there, stunned.

Streets-Care

A pair of the Remnant team run over to Care to check on her condition, ones' glove whirring mechanically as it prepares a medical apparatus in case she's wounded.

The Leader holds onto the young chimeric girl. He can't offer any consolation other than keeping her safe. Even so, the girl might feel his grip on her shaking as he falls to a knee, pulling her with him.

If she looks over the Leader's shoulder, she'll see a shard of metal shrapnel lodged in his back, blood welling out from the wound....

[Streets - Care]

"Oh no, you're hurt!" the little girl cries as soon as she spots the wound in the commander's back.

That looks...

Pretty serious...

The rest of the chimeras seem to be departing in a hurry, all of them dashing off toward the fallen mountain of a monster off in the distance. To mourn? To protect her? Who knows. But whatever they're doing they're doing it fast.

"I can fix you mister, but I'll need your permission first."

...she's in pretty bad shape right now... Doing any healing at the moment will undoubtedly harm her further.

[Steets - Care]

Well, she's got scrapes and stuff from being knocked to the ground. Likely going to be some bruises there soon. Her eardrums might have been perforated by the pressure wave. Maybe not.

[Rebonack]

[Amil's Apartment]

Previously Amil... or is she Jeany? Gods she has no idea. Everything is so muddied and muddled... Well, previously she had just been using her clawed upper pair of arms more or less unconsciously. But now that she's realized that she's the proud owner of several new limbs it's a real trial to figure out how to utilize them.

Thinking about using them usually doesn't turn out so well. Just doing it works better.

It's figured out eventually, but not before clawing the stuffing out of her couch unintentionally.

Her new found strength isn't working out too well either. She already crushed her smoothy glass and her television. Ripped off three door-knobs, too.

And now?

Now she's ripping her dresser apart and devouring her jeans. She has absolutely no idea why she's doing this and she can't seem to will herself to stop. It's... actually rather terrifying, being unable to control one's own actions. She would probably be crying out of fear if she still had any tear ducts.

Once her supply of denim pants has been exhausted she begins ripping all her other pants in half, spilling them on over her various limbs and synching them tight with belts. Last of all she pulls out the crimson cultist robe (it was from last Halloween!) and throws it over herself. Properly clothed Jeany slides her window open (breaking it in the process) and climbs outside. Climbs right up the wall of the apartment complex.

Climbs right onto...

[Streets - Rooftop]

The jeanstealer is now sitting atop a large air conditioning unit, arms pulled tight around herself. She sobs, though no tears come. "Oh gods what's happened to me..."

[Gullara]

[Crash Site - Red Zone]

She's always hungry actually. Always thirsting for blood. She could drain half the city and still want more. She's just not starving by any means right now.

The vampiress spits at his feet. "I don't need your help for anything. I don't need anyone!" Without even needing a command, one of the nulls lunges to grab the raven.

[Lady Serpentine]

[Crash Site - Red Zone]

The Blood Bird lets out a strange, ululating wail as it tries to fly up out of range.

Meanwhile, five vaguely canine creatures, covered in dark red quills, with stingers on the ends of their tails, and a human mouth on their shoulders, will exit the building that the ship crashed in front out of.

They begin to run towards the nulls and vampiress.

[Mr. Moon]

[Red Zone - Tavern Roof]

"I'll go with you then. To make sure that the clothes are up to my standard, of course." she says, giving him a look. you know that look. where the other person is telling you to play along or she'll rip your spine out through your stomach. Of course, the oblivious may miss this, and Iyalla can likely be convinced not to go, but she's not going to let some swindler run off with her money.

Oh. Well then. She wanted to go with Allen? That just wouldn't work. Not, that is, that Allen intended to take the money and run - although that certainly was a possibility he had concerned. The cowboy just had a tragic fashion sense. "O' course." He says, naturally as ever. "Th' shops are closed, though. It's that hour o' night y'see. P'rhaps sometime in th' mornin'?"

[Halae]

[Red Zone - Tavern Roof]

"Yes, I imagined such. And yes, I would be willing to wait for morning." Iyalla quirks an eyebrow. Tragic fashion sense or not, she wasn't sure she could trust this man at all. "I'd rather not risk losing you, since you seem drunk enough that you probably won't remember this once you've slept. Shall we go somewhere? perhaps inside?"

And no, this is not suggestive. Iyalla has no intentions of sleeping with Allen, and the look on her face, the crossing of her arms, her stance, and her tone, all suggest that he should get such ideas out of his head if they're in there already

[Arkham street]

Eric is walking along the street. Damn this neighborhood is spooky. The tentacles he's hiding under his jacket twitch once more, from agitation. He's currently looking for the library, but a certain jeanstealer may happen upon him first...

[Rebonack]

It had only been a matter of time before she started prowling. Jeany doesn't know why. But that... that hunger. That insatiable hunger for denim is just getting the better of her. It makes no gods damned sense but she can't seem to resist it.

The jeanstealer leaps from roof top to roof top, hunting for a potential target.

...and finds one.

[Arkham Street]

Tentacles? Fit right in around here.

Here in the sleepy ghost-haunted neighborhood of Arkham tentacles get into everything eventually. Yes, even there. In fact, some random fellow is waving at Eric right now with a nest of tentacles for an arm!

The normal folks do their best to ignore it whilst hanging desperately onto their sanity.

As Eric passes a shrub he'll hear a distinctly feminine, though somewhat gruff, voice from within. "I... umm... May I have your jacket please?"

[Halae]

[Arkham Street]

Tentacles fit in around here? there's a man with tentacles waving at him?

Ok, this is seriously weird. But it does relax him a little. He doesn't take his tentacles out of his coat, but he relaxes a bit.

When he hears the voice though, he turns to look. Immediately, he sends out to try and read the mind of whatever's there as he says, "Hello? why do you want my jacket?"

[Rebonack]

[Arkham Street]

There's a dog with tentacles too, but it would probably be best to forget all about that.

Mind reading!

The mind reading will return a chaotic jumble of thoughts and emotions and memories. Whoever this person is they're acting on instincts and impulses they don't understand or comprehend and it is quite frankly terrifying to them.

And more than a little embarrassment.

"I... well... This is going to sound really crazy but I need your jacket because I'm hungry," the voice from the bushes replies. Followed by a nervous laugh. "Weird, right?"

[Halae]

[Arkham Street]

Eric will take off his jacket. He had more at home, so it was no real trouble, "I'll give it to you if you come out of the bush, alright? And it's not as weird as some of the things I've seen around here. Craving denim? Not so bad."

And he realizes that the tentacles are making his torso look bulky. What to do about that?

... he sighs, and lets them fall low. They're long enough that he has to lift the ends of them of off the ground to keep them from dragging. It's not like he needs to hide them in this neighborhood anyways.

[UncleWolf]

Care Scene - Streets

The medic looks Care over before giving a nod to the others and trying to inject her with painkillers and anti-biotics. Force Leader shakes his head at the offer of healing. "No. I...I'll be fine." He grunts before reaching back and pulling out the shard. There's a hiss as his suit reacts to the damage and plugs the wound with foam. "I'm taking you back to base with us. For safety. Just until all this blows over." He says. Unless she objects, the entire force will be teleported to the base, Care and girl included, so the injured can be treated.

[Rebonack]

[Arkham Street]

There's silence for several seconds.

And then rustling as the jeanstealer climbs out of the shrubbery, still poorly concealed in an outfit made completely of slacks and one (1) Halloween cultist robe. The loose attire helps a little, but it's still plainly obvious that she isn't human.

If Eric happens to be at all familiar with 40k he would probably recognize her as a genestealer. Just... more human. Less beastial. And wearing a pair of pants on her head. The harder parts of her carapace are a metalic brass color, rather akin to the studs found in denim pants. The softer flexible portions are a nice jean blue.

She'll take the jacket with her more human arms and begins nomming it immediately. "Thank you..." she manages to mutter between bites. While looking at his pants.

They're also denim.

And she's trying really hard to restrain herself. But... once that jacket is gone she isn't sure if it'll be possible.

"I have some money. You should probably use it to buy new clothes."

Her wallet is in her pocket!

...one of her pockets.

[Streets - Care]

The little girl gets warped away!

Poof!

[Halae]

[Arkham Street]

Eric snerks once he realizes what she is. It's terrible pun, brought to fruition

Eric sees her looking at his pants. My my, he should have realized that. "Mind if I have a pair of the pants your wearing already first? I don't really feel like walking around in my underwear."

[Earl of Purple]

Erin's Emporium

Elves don't count because they tend towards human skin tones and a civilised nature. Orcs, on the other hand, tend towards greens and savagery.

"Oh that's good. How much will it cost?" Mrs. Bloodplunder places her handbag on the counter. "My pension isn't all that grand, you see." But her savings from her adventuring career are much better.

[Rebonack]

[Arkham Street]

Jeany's natural weapons deal an addition 4d6 pun damage.

"...my pants?" she echoes whilst polishing off the first of the jacket's sleeves. Her gaze slowly drifts up toward the pair of slacks she's wearing on her head. Normally she wouldn't part with her 'hat' but when faced with the option of trading it in for denim...

The jeanstealer pulls the pants off her head, long locks of armored tendril 'hair' cascading out of the rather unorthodox head-dress. The pants are held out for Eric to take by one of her clawed arms whilst the other three limbs are all employed toward nomming the jacket.

"I'm not sure if they'll be in your size..."

Especially since they're woman's slacks.

A beat-

"I... eerr... what are you laughing about?"

[Halae]

[Arkham Street]

Eric blushes as he thinks about how to do this, then proceeds to get behind the bush. "as long as I can wear them, however tightly, I'll be fine," Eric has quite the slim body anyways. his family sometimes called him twiggy. he's going to look like an emo kid now, though.

The trousers will psionically float out of Jeany's... claw and join him behind the bush. He'll undo his belt, take the pencils, pens, folded sheet of paper, and wallet out of his pants and place them on the ground before attempting to get into the slacks

"And I'm laughing because you're a jeanstealer. There's a creature that steals a person's genetic makeup, and thus genestealing, right? Well... I think you can draw the connection here."

[Ashen Lilies]

[Streets - Care]

*poof*, indeed.

Care is injected with stuff.

[Rebonack]

[Arkham Street]

Amil/Jeany just...

Sort of...

Stares at Eric with a look of utter disbelief. Blinks. Looks down at the remains of the jacket in her hands. Back up at Eric.

"...are you telling me that I've been turned into a repulsive monster compelled to feast on pants because someone thought it would be a funny pun?"

Shock.

Disgust.

Both in equal parts of her tone.

She waves a clawed hand at him. "Don't answer that. Thank you for... uuh... sharing your cloths with me. I'm Jeany. Or..." she scrunches one eye half-way shut. "Amil... One of those. Maybe both. I'm not sure."

[Halae]

[Arkham Street]

"I really am sorry that I laughed. When a pun flies at you you either groan or giggle. Matter of habit." The pants will fit him fairly tightly, but they fit.

"Maybe I can help a bit. I've developed this psychic thing since I got to the Nexus. Turning me slowly into some kind of monster, but we deal with what we get." he waves his tentacles around, hoping they can get Jeany/Amil to relax a bit in his presence, maybe trust him a bit, "I want to try something with your mind. it'll be a bit intrusive, but if it works, you'll only feel hungry for normal food, rather than denim." He doesn't offer his old pants just yet.