exsiliumlogs | WEEK ONE: meet and greet the meat

"Make like a banana...and SPLIT!" cried the Nightcap, parroting the words it heard in its head in a mindless shout. None of it made any sense, internally or externally, and all of it coming from a rumbling, oversized lizard made it less clear on the whole.

It stopped its slow pace around, snickering for a moment at the way the crocodile had to move to keep its eyes fixed on the Nightcap. Was it really absurd? What did it really know about what absurd even meant? Life was still barely two months fresh and still full of wonders – this being one of them.

Scales...it looked heavy. Thick. Slow.

Following that train of thought, the Nightcap made a sudden swiping gesture from which a single, thick needle flew, making a beeline for one of those big, slitted crocodile eyes.

Collette reacted, but a beat too slow to prevent the needle from piercing her eye. People often underestimated the speed and strength of the crocodile, absolutely certain a lizard of that size couldn't possible move quickly.

They were wrong, an even as she loses vision in one eye, Collette is already on the attack. She doesn't know them, doesn't understand what's going on, but she knows how to defend herself and try to get away. She wasn't thinking clearly enough to call out for help.

Help should have just been here, but this wasn't a here with a team. There was no back-up.

She pushed off the roof with all four legs, snapping her jaws at her aggressor and attempting to latch on to one of their legs. If that failed, she'd whip around, hoping to use the heavy, thick tail naturally part of any healthy adult crocodile to knock her opponent off their feet.

She wanted time. She didn't even remember that crocodiles had difficulties in opening doors that opened outward, not inward, and had no way to deal with locks.

The Nightcap yelped, leaping barely out of reach of those jaws; its skirt did not fare as well, shredding at the edges. Giggling with a mix of panic and excitement, it spun around on its heel, needlessly jumping at the swish of the heavy tail it was a fair distance away.

Testing, it conjured and flung a trio of needles at its hide – little to stick, really! Not a strong enough arm, not a sharp enough point. But there had to be some soft spots. Eyes, mouth...

"Oh, we need a hammer," it declared loudly, heels clicking as it hopped a fair distance away and around. "We need our big hammer, Bruce! Come here! Smash this angry beast! Haha–!"

Darting around to find the head again, another assault was launched for the second eye. THWIPPTHWIPPTHWIPP!

Defensive of her blind spot, any sign of movement her good eye caught provoked immediate reactions from Collette. She had tried to keep it trained on her assailant, jerking her head around and feeling the impact of the needles on her cheek. They were a bother, but not injurous there.

Unfortunately, the movement necessary to prevent those needles from driving into her eye caused her to lose track of Nightcap for the time being. With shooting pains driving through her head, Collette threw her mouth open wide again.

< If you want a hammer, you should be talking to Thor! >

Not that he'd been around for months, but that as a secondary point. She was open to attack, and until she found her aggressor again, Collette was aware of her disadvantage.

Little chance of the Nightcap diving right into the mouth of a scaly girl-turned-beast, truly. It circled again, nearly skipping with every alternating step like a child at play. This was no casual ring-around-the-rosie, however: someone was liable to get hurt.

Hiding from the mouth and face gave it little to work with, so it stopped, rocking back on its heels, and peered down at the croc. The next time the mouth opened – hoh! scary, that! – it threw a pair of needles inward.

Collette choked on those needles, pain exploding in her mouth and causing her to flinch back before blindly barreling forward. She had to get away! This was ridiculous, needles were nothing, but she didn't want to deal with it, and she was injured.

The pain of not being able to think as rationally as usual meant leaving herself open to ridiculous and preventable attacks. The needles in her mouth themselves were dangerous, too close to pushing through into parts of the crocodile that would be heavily damaging.

She'd have to morph to get her eyesight back in the other eye, and to get rid of the needles. As soon as she morphed, she'd be a sitting duck.

THNK.

The Nightcap's body slumped heavily against the steel door. It sighed loudly, teeth clicking together with a broad cheshire grin. As the needles in the crocodile's mouth dissipated to dust, a fresh array emerged from Regina Darkov's knuckles. One, two, three, four. It lazily lifted them to its face.

"More?" it called. "Shall I dig out each tooth, one by one? Take the eye and shine it up, top a cane..."

Great, part of her thought, now my mouth tastes gross. Blood and dust and a smiling woman, wasn't it, this was a woman doing everything. Collette didn't bother responding to the taunt at first, though she could have.

Instead, she slammed right into Nightcap's legs. Threats weren't going to disssuade her, not if it was only needles. They hadn't penetrated far enough to be a threat to her brain.

Not yet.

< Trust me, lady, I don't need the dental work! You're talking up the wrong crocodile! >

But the door, closed as it was, would be an obstacle no matter what Collette managed to do with the lady.

"Wrong crocodi-iIIIII–!" The singsong echo was cut short by the tackle, forgotten as the Nightcap scrambled, heels scraping against the door as it worked to keep limbs from falling into that steel trap of a mouth. All that work wound up with the Nightcap practically sitting atop the crocodile, facing the tail rather than the real problem. It twisted, stretching out over its back and grasping and clutching at unyielding neck – nothing to pick or poke at to make headway.

So the Nightcap, having lost three of the four conjured needles in the commotion, firmly grasped the last one in its fist, and jammed it down into the second eye while shrieking and shouting, trying to keep from being wriggled off or somehow a limb or two less a body.

Collette shrieks, a mental cry that she doesn't keep constrained to one singular mind. The pain exploding through her skull as a needle is shoved through her eye is excruciating. Worse, she's afraid of it going just far enough to hit the unexposed portion of her brain.

Underneath Nightcap, she went wild. Collette thrashed around, contorting and slamming with her full strength into the steel door. She couldn't afford to leave Nightcap on top, tucking into a violent roll if nothing else would dislodge her passenger. Crocodiles were nothing but muscle, though a lack of developed muscles to open their mouths made only their bite phenomenal in strength, not their ability to open their maw.

She had to get her off and demorph, stat. As soon as she dislodged Nightcap's weight, Collette didn't wait, darting off blidnly and rolling over a section of the roof she could not longer see. Crashing into the gravel, she began the demorphing process, scales and blood giving way to naked skin and hair. The blood didn't actually leave. Whatever pooled around Collette's head as a crocodile was around to dirty her hands as a girl.

She didn't have time to hang around as herself, not in the freezing cold, not with having lost her gown and the only sense of modesty or rationality that came along with it. The rain started to pick up, thick, heavy droplets falling down like leaden promises. Drip, drip, drop, little April shower, beating a tune as you fall all around...

Collette's morph was accompanied by a brash, excited shrieking that came around and around as the Nightcap circled and drew closer, an enticed predator to flesh exposed. Flesh exposed – ah, ah, ah, it saw. It saw scales melt to pinker, softer things. It saw the jaw grow watery...

With another holler, it lunched and grabbed at the vanishing jaw, fingers wrapping around one of those remaining crocodile teeth and yanking, giving a crow of delight at feeling it pull loose. Mine, mine!

"Ohhh!" it moaned through laughter, drawing away with haste as it cupped its prize in its hands. "Oh, you monster! Monster-thing! Lucky beast! Show me! Show me the trick!"

It swooped in again, hands searching for other prizes to be had, snorting and sneering at the human shape that had begun to dominate.

"You don't fool me, you don't!" A tangle of hair found its way in the Nightcap's grip. It crouched low, bringing its face to Collette's, hissing loudly.

"You don't fool me!"

Edited 2013-06-13 00:02 (UTC)

Collette yelped, a strangled sound that didn't make it entirely out of her throat as the tooth was torn out of her head, mostly crocodilian. She was human and panting and shocked on the cold roof, water falling on her bare back. She looked around, trying to track her assailant, but it was difficult between the lack of light and the rain and her own illness, regardless of the adrenaline in her system now.

When Nightcap ended up in her face, she jerked back, feeling the pain of her hair and wondering why she hadn't shaved it all off or something else ages ago. (Because she always wears her hair long, but that's the reality, and not an answer to a fevered, frightened mind.)

Collette smashed her forehead against Nightcap's face, unable to scramble backward, insistent instead on going forward. "Shut up! Leave me alone!"

It wasn't just a request. Vision swimming, head aching, she morphed again, this time the rippling effect of fur and jutting muzzle and four lanky, thinner legs than any she had as a human. As soon as she had functional hind legs, she launched herself after Nightcap. It wasn't just about escape, though she wanted, needed to get out of there. It was about driving off this creature causing so much pain, a single minded desire to hurt what was making her hurt until it stopped hurting. < Leave me alone! > she shouted in Thought Speak, trying to bite, to tear, to rend with nails and teeth.

The smack to its forehead blacked out the Nightcap's vision, already failing and practically gone in one eye as it was. It sparked a surge of fury, welling up from both beast and body as the instinct for survival gave greater strength to the limbs at its control. Of course, that had little say on maintaining balance and being upright, as Collette's new legs pushed it backward, shoulders hitting the concrete and the back of the hat squishing and hardening against the impact. All the while, it shrieked and laughed, gasped and snarled against the chaotic flail of limbs and hide.

As the hair in its grip began to shrink and slip through its fingers, hands searched and groped, needles breaking through skin at the knuckle and dragging across the ever-changing flesh the Nightcap worked to be free of. Something snagged, and the Nightcap twisted its fist to dig in and pull, pull, pull, snatching at something loose with the other hand and pulling, all the while laughing. Laughing, gasping, snarling...

She'd been slashed, gashed, burned, shot, smacked, slammed, and bitten in the past. Some of it was worse than what was happening now. Some of it was miles better.

Nightcap pulled, and between the needles and the rest, when it pulled, it took her skin up with it. From the ruff of her neck, tearing down and exposing the muscles of her shoulders and neck along the straight line of her spine, Collette screamed from the sudden, intense pain accompanying the ripping. The superficial fascia, which held the two together, ripped as well, the least educated and unclean of any unintentional, reverse dorsal skinning.

She was bleeding again, attempting to bite down on the arm fisted in her skin, quite literally. There was no way this should have worked. She had no idea how much damage had to be down through skin level to manage this, feeling a burning trail of warmth extending to her mid-back.

There was no way she was getting skinned alive! Bleeding profusely, she bit and howled and struggled to get away, crying in Thought Speak -- she didn't know she was, and hadn't thought it was possible. Projecting fear and hurt and anger and pain all in one long cry of, < Let me go! >

He'd heard the first scream — many had. Most of those who had heard were too delirious or sick to do more than stare around them in feverish alarm, but fortunately Ashraf is doing a little better than that. He'd cast his array of magic over himself before beginning his search, and spent the next few minutes searching through all nearby rooms, in a barrage of glowing, unnaturally fast-moving, and increasingly high grim priest. Nothing, nothing, nothing— it's at the second scream that he suddenly remember another option. The roof.

It doesn't take him long to get up the stairs to the door, and less time from there to throw it open. He takes in the scene at a glance — a woman, an animal, and a hideous amount of suffering.

"Leave it!" He's striding forward as he shouts, deep and with all the authority 75 years can manage. He has no idea who had been screaming, or what's going on, but it will be stopped. "Let go of the animal and step away."

There was a lot of noise; the Nightcap was screaming over the noise being blasted into its head, all the while ripping and pulling, ripping and pulling and–

More noise? Did it matter? There was yowling in and out of its head, and all the more reason to keep tearing until one more rrrrrip sent the Nightcap's arm sailing back against the concrete with a long tuft of fur and skin.

Is the screaming coming from — oh, no. That's either a sentient animal, or someone shaped like an animal. His eyes narrow, and he throws a hand out toward the woman, while the other dips to a loop at his belt to pull out two golden, cross-tipped rods. A searing bolt of light, similarly cross-shaped, streaks toward her from his hand. It does burning, painful damage to anything living, but it brings a special kind of pain to things demonic or undead.

God he hopes she's demonic. That would make everything from here on out a lot more straightforward.

The pain was exquisite. Having felt worse didn't make it more pleasant; breaking away from the woman she can only shy away from the man, too, not sure if he'd turn around to protect the apparent person over the animal bleeding and snarling and looking wildly for the door.

It's closed again. Collette wants to scream, cry, anything: the dang door is closed!

She scrambled away, living up to her own mental entreaty, light burning her eyes as she refused to turn her back on assailant or new stranger. She slams her eyes closed a moment too late to prevent being partially blinded by the light.

< Stay away from me! > she calls out. It's a warning to both parties, ignoring the blood staining her sides red, matting her fur and showing the muscle underneath. Collette doesn't register Ashraf as Ashraf yet, doesn't recognize his smell through the blood and burning particular of any kind of light concentrated in a given area, let alone the result of that light touching flesh.

Bad memories. It's all a rush of bad memories, and all she can be thankful for is that fire isn't direct her way -- yet. Growling, blinking blinded eyes rapidly as she jerked her head between Nightcap's direction and where Ashraf stood, she calls out at last for the names of people who she swears should have been here. < Barnaby! > Gone, and she knew that, revising mentally. < Drift! > Her friend who faces down his own demons, convinced all he can do is destroy. < Caesar! > Who she can't call for, because he can't be here. He can't be around any of this. < Vanadi! > He's always shown up before. But things change, he's changed, who knows where he is now? < James! > She feels her mental voice breaking off into a cry of a different sort of wordless pain. < Where are you? >

The rest is locked within her own mind. Why aren't you here? She isn't always brave on her own. She edges further back, seeking to get away. If they keep each other distracted...

Edited (forgot vanadiiii) 2013-06-16 00:51 (UTC)

Not so demonic, but Ashraf is lucky: the Nightcap wasn't made to endure such foreign elements. Over Collette's cries, Regina Darkov's own swallowed them up, loud and shrill as she twisted and writhed on the ground. The monster, too, suffered: bulging and bubbling in places, the hat looked less a hat and more a boil ready to burst.

No! Auuugh–! NO!

Pain. Personal pain – not just information fed from the girl. And it was terrible. Tendrils burst from the already broken shape it had once been, flailing and stretching and searching blindly for some means to ease the pain.

[ What he'd assumed was a hat is -- proving itself very not a hat. But Ashraf only takes a split second to watch with horror, and then his attention is on the coyote again. Before he's gone more than two steps he throws out holy magic again. It's not meant to harm, this time, but to heal. Soothing green light floods her form, but Ashraf can recognize that the damage is extensive. It'll take more than that.

He strides toward her, casting heal after heal as he goes. The creature on the woman's head will be given time to recover, although he hasn't forgotten it. As soon as he's convinced the animal is well again, he'll get right back to it.

He lowers his voice as he draws nearer to Collette: ] There you are, it will be alright -- you're almost done --

Collette couldn't feel the difference. Not at first -- the edge of pain slacked, slowly getting more and more dull, but the panic didn't. She scooted back and away from the approaching Ashraf, only slowly, slowly realizing who it was she saw.

< Ashraf? > she asks, and she collapses down to her belly. Collette starts demorphing, not because it's a good time, and not because she thinks it's a great idea, but she needs out of the pain and she knows Ashraf is supposed to be one of the good guys and she needs out of the coyote morph before the idea of what's been happening sticks around and devours her into something gross and dark and hard to get back from.

"Ashraf, watch out, it's screaming, where is it, it has these needles --"

The cold air is a shock on her lungs, and the human Collette starts coughing, a wrenching, whooping sound that shakes her body and leaves her with her face turned into the arm not supporting her up and away from the cold dampness of the roof. She's naked, and the rooftop around her is splattered and pooling with blood.

It rolled on its side, a hand patting and dragging across the ground, curling into a fist and uncurling to lay flat, to start helping it push itself up, still groaning and gurgling and grunting with each move. The pain had been so very raw, but the impact was receding quickly. The Nightcap's shape began to quiver itself back down, hugging tightly to the scalp of the girl who suffered, less a hat and more a dye job gone horribly wrong. It sank down under her jaw, against her ears and eyes and the neck, house of that all-important brain stem. There was more pain there, but more control, and the girl had to move.

"Guouwh...gnahrh. Ha. Ah..."

Spit, it insisted.

She spat, leaving black and red behind.

As it slowly rose, staggering to stand, tendrils lifted and pulled eyelids open to peer, blearily, at the moving, speaking shapes before the Nightcap. Two.

"H-hoh..."

There was a squelching sound, quickly proceeded by the tinny whistle of tiny needles zipping through the air. Three, four, five, six–

Collette's warning after her surprising transformation is almost enough. Almost. It takes three of the needles finding his back and side before he gets out his spell. A green mist swirls to life at his feet, cleanly swallowing the other three. Well, so much for his idea of giving her his robes, now that they're pinned to his skin. That will have to wait.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, "Just wait a little while longer, I have to deal with her."

He turns back for Nightcap, but without leaving Collette defenseless. He takes a second to weave a spell over her, one which disappears after a brief, honeycombed shield shines into place around her. It will come back again in full force to defend against any blows sent her way though, up to four times.

And with that done, he's once again calling for the holy light, sending it streaking painfully for their attacker.

WEEK ONE: meet and greet the meat

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oh god look at that, quicklog is just so engrained in me