Not a Sayan
ZombiesAnHyenasHmmm, rabbimpanzee loss of mass due to splitting higher then projected parameters. Combat situational awareness above average. Use of concussive powers minimal and uncreative. “Moon Freak” strain requires refinement. Need to lower potential growth curve to prevent population bomb and biome scouring. Personal note, ingrain instinctual pack tactics and multiple forms of species communication to increase group coordination for future implementation. Current test run underperforming. Conclusion: Violent termination upon further drop in current engagement effectiveness.
Disappointing. Though their current opponents combat performance and lack of response to fear and shock tactics did lend itself to the drop in this strains effectiveness. Just bad luck in design choice it seems.
Kiran tilted their head at the black stone. Curious, but ultimately unimportant. What did grab their attention was the Doe’s comment. "Oh ho! Business then? Well by all means, we are not all so savage that we can’t come to some form of agreement hmm?" Their tail flicked about too and fro. Meanwhile the rabbimpanzee’s huffed and growled in frustration at the sudden lack of hostilities.
Kiran rolled their eyes and let out an overly dramatic sigh. ”Petulent children as always… go play with the other guest why don’t you. I appear to have more important matters to attend to.” The beasts and remaining reaving cultists were quick to turn their attention to J-3. Kiran looked back to the uncanny individual before them. ”While I still find your imitations of me quite bold and tasteless, One cannot help being flattered by such displays. Would you by chance require refreshments? Do forgive the lack of staff, I seem to have left nobody to wait on us. But i refuse to be anything but an excellent host~”
Jane tilted her head, so far so good. Her pupils dilated until the whites of her eyes were no longer visible, body shifting as she grew slightly taller, skin turning a sunkissed bronze. “Refreshments? But of course! Toxcatl is a day of feasts, after all.” Her right arm shot out, still unnaturally long, fingers elongating into fangs and digging into the flesh of a nearly dead cultist. Her other arm returned to normal while the right contorted, constricting around the body while biting chunks from it. The cultist protested weakly, eliciting an annoyed glance from Doe.
”And Feast we will!” Moving behind what remained of the club's bar, Kiran was quick to begin mixing a pair of Synapse Scorcher’s with nitrogen. The level of presentation wasn’t necessary, but one should never shy away from theatrics. Ice was cut into the shape of a diamond, glasses were spun, and the drinks were poured smoothly. Kiran’s tail bloomed open into a clawed hand that transported Jane’s drink to them.
Taking the glass in her hand, she inspected the glass contents with a disinterested expression. “This smells disgusting.” To punctuate her thought, she shot the drink back in one quick swallow. The liquid was so cold it froze the saliva in her mouth, creating a layer of icy spittle that the drink slid across. It was unpleasant to say the least, and stuck to the roof of her mouth like peanut butter. “Ugh,” Her tongue scraped lazily across the roof of her mouth, tissue and synapses dissolving as she scoffed the drink. “You have one chance to make an impression and you hand me spicy ice water.”
Kiran took a moment to sip and savor their drink. An overacted, satisfied sigh being let loose before they refocused on Jane. ”Now, business then? Do ignore the beasts and sideshows, they won't be bothering us.” They leaned forward, an excited glint in their eyes. There was then a hiss of depressurized cold mist as a small rack rose up from the counter, revealing several blood bags with listed types and added narcotic saturation levels. The blood was presented with a hand in a wordless “help yourself” gesture.
“Thath bether,” Her words came out garbled as she spoke around a scorched mouth. Starting with the lightest saturation, her tongue snaked out of her mouth, piercing a bag of blood and greedily slurping up its contents with a makeshift proboscis. Tilting her head back she gargled, blood sloshing and coating her mouth as the hemoproteins transformed into cells that replaced the lost portions of her mouth.
“Now, let me see,” Jane coughed and retched, spitting up a bound journal she had swallowed earlier that day. It was covered in slobber. “Knew I had it in here somewhere...” The book’s cover opened on its own, vellum pages turning frantically until the book was about halfway open. Her right arm dug into the chest of the cultist, retrieving the heart and releasing her victim as it did. “Ah, here we are. So first we need… Theta-J. Then I am to drop Theta-J through the roof of Cortex. Oh wait, no… That’s… something else.” The pages of the book slowly flipped several more times, passing a two-page fold featuring a surprisingly well-drawn doodle of Kiran tied to a rocket that appeared to be carrying him to the moon. “Here it is.”
Jane turned the journal toward Kiran, showing him another detailed picture. It was an atom painstakingly drawn to scale and neatly annotated so that there was no mistaking it. Only it was denser than anything normally found on Earth. In fact, it couldn’t even be found in this part of the Universe, as Kiran examined the drawing, it became obvious why the atomic structure had needed to be drawn out. There was no known name for this element, it didn’t rightly exist on the planet. It could exclusively be found in Kiran’s laboratory, a product of his unique capability, and it wasn’t the only one. Several atoms that only Kiran should have known about were drawn out. The page flipped, revealing another few atoms, listing quantities and isotopes; the beginning of a recipe, or at least an ingredient list. The page flipped again, and again, just over ten pages of details, including instructions on how to transport the more unstable isotopes. After that there was just a list of names and contact information, with several names circled.
Doe closed the journal, slamming it shut with her hand, “Ignore that last page. Just some ‘friends’ of mine.” Her right arm gingerly held the heart in its mouth, in the dark of the club it almost appeared to still be beating. “So if you could just load up a van or something, I’ll be on my way.” She confidently informed Kiran with a crooked grin.
Looking over the notes and listed materials, Kiran was quick to recall everything they currently had within their laboratory complex that matched each little ingredient. Several potential concoctions and compounds one could make or stabilize with such creations came to mind. What fun to be had with more people actually trying for larger projects these days. ”A good start for sure! Capital even! You should have solicited me sooner on such matters my dear, I find the direct approach towards hospitality to do wonders.” Their sardonic charm remained as Kiran chuckled to themselves happily before giving Jane a sharp side eye. Though I would refrain from attempting any burgling of my abode in the future.” The threatening statement was left to hang in the air as if it were a fact of nature. Grass grows, fish swim, wind blows, and you don’t steal from Kiran Kingsley.
”I will need a day to synthesize fresh batches, low quality product is beneath me. Where perchance should I send the delivery to? Unless you would like to accompany me to my lovely estate? We do still need to go over payment, from you or your contractor.”
“Deal. Send it topside, Plate five, Main Street.” Doe paused while the journal they held twisted and writhed, before becoming one with her skin and crawling its way up her arm, disappearing into her center mass. “And in the future, I will not be involved in any attempts to burgle you. Scouts honor.” She flashed a grin of bone white teeth while giggling madly at the joke.
[Hr]
John knitted together another homunculi, tucking the lifeless body into a particularly snug section of the crawlspace. The work was a lot easier without having to split his attention between his task and fighting Kiran or his chimps. He half expected Kingsley to ignore their offer, but it never paid to bet against Panopticon, and sure enough, he hadn’t.
He half crawled, half-shimmied through a vent that opened into the room that the Tinker must have come from. Someone sat in the room, a man with a bulging head, completely oblivious to the chaos going on above him. Unfolding himself from the vent, he fell to the floor. Nerves, flesh, and skin grew out of his spine, flowing out of his reservoir until he was whole of body again. Taking a few steps toward the man, John idly wondered if it was rude to eat him while Jane parleyed. Then again, Kingsley did offer refreshments, and there was something that looked temptingly akin to Tang flowing through the man’s tubing. John’s jaw unhinged as he loped excitedly forward, biting into the man’s head, slurping down the mysterious orange liquid.
Fingers seized and spasmed for a minute, plugs and IV drips popping out of ports along his skin. Their veins quickly became more and more vascular while fluids began to leak from the cracks in their compound eyes. A hint of condensing energy was occurring in their brain and chest . . . almost like something that was about to explode. Fingers gurgled in response.
The oily liquid tasted almost exactly like the drink Jane had been given, albeit without the freezing sensation; some party. Normally potential toxins and unknown substances like this were swallowed using a specialized digestive tract that opened into a massive portion of Doe’s stomach and left to inevitably neutralize itself against millennias’ worth of devoured foodstuffs. He did no such thing this time, and the drugs went straight to his head. John went nearly limp, jaw still locked shot onto the man as he witnessed everything that had ever happened to him all at once.
Every forgotten bliss, every meal full of disgust, the contempt and fear he felt hunting himself down; every memory like a raindrop cascading through that moment as Doe’s brain kicked into overdrive. A few thousand feet away, Jane’s body was undoubtedly experiencing the same torpor as her mind raced.
And that was when Fingers exploded in a violent burst of bioenergy. Though the process was helped due to a number of mutagenic chemical properties all reacting at once inside the poor man thing.
There was not so much as an explosion, more of a loud wet pop. Sizzling lukewarm gore and liquified bone splattered across the room.
All accompanied by the sudden ding not dissimilar to an oven timer going off. John fell to the floor amid the viscera, pieces of what used to be Finger’s skull embedded in his grey matter, Ego racing through his veins.
Kiran however was unaware of this development, too focused on being a host.
[Hr]
Kiran clapped in delight. All the while trays of organ meats had been produced, which Kiran was in the process of making perfect cuts out of and occasionally mutating to let Jane taste test. ”Splendid, it will be an unmarked red van. Though I would prefer you don’t eat my people up topside, finding good help that blends in with polite society is a chore I’d rather perform sparingly. They sipped their drink and returned to cutting.
Something struck Kiran then. ”What do I call you my dear? A thousand pardons for my rudeness. The whole spread before you is yours to take of course, I would however be curious if you were interested in some work of my own in the future? I will compensate you handsomely.” They gave Jane an equally toothy grin, rows upon rows of fangs slid out and on display.
Jane tried to answer, but her mouth suddenly felt like it was full of molasses, or maybe marrow; regardless the end result was that she sputtered out something about a “Mr. White’s petite lapin,” before falling to the ground in a pile, tripping over her own elongated limb. For some reason, she was suddenly seeing double. Just her and John, in that other place, J-3 barely visible in the background against the smoke and fear; against the pain, anger and chaos filling the air around them. She could feel her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she mumbled “The wall Mr. Gorbachev,” before she lost consciousness.
Disappointing. Though their current opponents combat performance and lack of response to fear and shock tactics did lend itself to the drop in this strains effectiveness. Just bad luck in design choice it seems.
Kiran tilted their head at the black stone. Curious, but ultimately unimportant. What did grab their attention was the Doe’s comment. "Oh ho! Business then? Well by all means, we are not all so savage that we can’t come to some form of agreement hmm?" Their tail flicked about too and fro. Meanwhile the rabbimpanzee’s huffed and growled in frustration at the sudden lack of hostilities.
Kiran rolled their eyes and let out an overly dramatic sigh. ”Petulent children as always… go play with the other guest why don’t you. I appear to have more important matters to attend to.” The beasts and remaining reaving cultists were quick to turn their attention to J-3. Kiran looked back to the uncanny individual before them. ”While I still find your imitations of me quite bold and tasteless, One cannot help being flattered by such displays. Would you by chance require refreshments? Do forgive the lack of staff, I seem to have left nobody to wait on us. But i refuse to be anything but an excellent host~”
Jane tilted her head, so far so good. Her pupils dilated until the whites of her eyes were no longer visible, body shifting as she grew slightly taller, skin turning a sunkissed bronze. “Refreshments? But of course! Toxcatl is a day of feasts, after all.” Her right arm shot out, still unnaturally long, fingers elongating into fangs and digging into the flesh of a nearly dead cultist. Her other arm returned to normal while the right contorted, constricting around the body while biting chunks from it. The cultist protested weakly, eliciting an annoyed glance from Doe.
”And Feast we will!” Moving behind what remained of the club's bar, Kiran was quick to begin mixing a pair of Synapse Scorcher’s with nitrogen. The level of presentation wasn’t necessary, but one should never shy away from theatrics. Ice was cut into the shape of a diamond, glasses were spun, and the drinks were poured smoothly. Kiran’s tail bloomed open into a clawed hand that transported Jane’s drink to them.
Taking the glass in her hand, she inspected the glass contents with a disinterested expression. “This smells disgusting.” To punctuate her thought, she shot the drink back in one quick swallow. The liquid was so cold it froze the saliva in her mouth, creating a layer of icy spittle that the drink slid across. It was unpleasant to say the least, and stuck to the roof of her mouth like peanut butter. “Ugh,” Her tongue scraped lazily across the roof of her mouth, tissue and synapses dissolving as she scoffed the drink. “You have one chance to make an impression and you hand me spicy ice water.”
Kiran took a moment to sip and savor their drink. An overacted, satisfied sigh being let loose before they refocused on Jane. ”Now, business then? Do ignore the beasts and sideshows, they won't be bothering us.” They leaned forward, an excited glint in their eyes. There was then a hiss of depressurized cold mist as a small rack rose up from the counter, revealing several blood bags with listed types and added narcotic saturation levels. The blood was presented with a hand in a wordless “help yourself” gesture.
“Thath bether,” Her words came out garbled as she spoke around a scorched mouth. Starting with the lightest saturation, her tongue snaked out of her mouth, piercing a bag of blood and greedily slurping up its contents with a makeshift proboscis. Tilting her head back she gargled, blood sloshing and coating her mouth as the hemoproteins transformed into cells that replaced the lost portions of her mouth.
“Now, let me see,” Jane coughed and retched, spitting up a bound journal she had swallowed earlier that day. It was covered in slobber. “Knew I had it in here somewhere...” The book’s cover opened on its own, vellum pages turning frantically until the book was about halfway open. Her right arm dug into the chest of the cultist, retrieving the heart and releasing her victim as it did. “Ah, here we are. So first we need… Theta-J. Then I am to drop Theta-J through the roof of Cortex. Oh wait, no… That’s… something else.” The pages of the book slowly flipped several more times, passing a two-page fold featuring a surprisingly well-drawn doodle of Kiran tied to a rocket that appeared to be carrying him to the moon. “Here it is.”
Jane turned the journal toward Kiran, showing him another detailed picture. It was an atom painstakingly drawn to scale and neatly annotated so that there was no mistaking it. Only it was denser than anything normally found on Earth. In fact, it couldn’t even be found in this part of the Universe, as Kiran examined the drawing, it became obvious why the atomic structure had needed to be drawn out. There was no known name for this element, it didn’t rightly exist on the planet. It could exclusively be found in Kiran’s laboratory, a product of his unique capability, and it wasn’t the only one. Several atoms that only Kiran should have known about were drawn out. The page flipped, revealing another few atoms, listing quantities and isotopes; the beginning of a recipe, or at least an ingredient list. The page flipped again, and again, just over ten pages of details, including instructions on how to transport the more unstable isotopes. After that there was just a list of names and contact information, with several names circled.
Doe closed the journal, slamming it shut with her hand, “Ignore that last page. Just some ‘friends’ of mine.” Her right arm gingerly held the heart in its mouth, in the dark of the club it almost appeared to still be beating. “So if you could just load up a van or something, I’ll be on my way.” She confidently informed Kiran with a crooked grin.
Looking over the notes and listed materials, Kiran was quick to recall everything they currently had within their laboratory complex that matched each little ingredient. Several potential concoctions and compounds one could make or stabilize with such creations came to mind. What fun to be had with more people actually trying for larger projects these days. ”A good start for sure! Capital even! You should have solicited me sooner on such matters my dear, I find the direct approach towards hospitality to do wonders.” Their sardonic charm remained as Kiran chuckled to themselves happily before giving Jane a sharp side eye. Though I would refrain from attempting any burgling of my abode in the future.” The threatening statement was left to hang in the air as if it were a fact of nature. Grass grows, fish swim, wind blows, and you don’t steal from Kiran Kingsley.
”I will need a day to synthesize fresh batches, low quality product is beneath me. Where perchance should I send the delivery to? Unless you would like to accompany me to my lovely estate? We do still need to go over payment, from you or your contractor.”
“Deal. Send it topside, Plate five, Main Street.” Doe paused while the journal they held twisted and writhed, before becoming one with her skin and crawling its way up her arm, disappearing into her center mass. “And in the future, I will not be involved in any attempts to burgle you. Scouts honor.” She flashed a grin of bone white teeth while giggling madly at the joke.
[Hr]
John knitted together another homunculi, tucking the lifeless body into a particularly snug section of the crawlspace. The work was a lot easier without having to split his attention between his task and fighting Kiran or his chimps. He half expected Kingsley to ignore their offer, but it never paid to bet against Panopticon, and sure enough, he hadn’t.
He half crawled, half-shimmied through a vent that opened into the room that the Tinker must have come from. Someone sat in the room, a man with a bulging head, completely oblivious to the chaos going on above him. Unfolding himself from the vent, he fell to the floor. Nerves, flesh, and skin grew out of his spine, flowing out of his reservoir until he was whole of body again. Taking a few steps toward the man, John idly wondered if it was rude to eat him while Jane parleyed. Then again, Kingsley did offer refreshments, and there was something that looked temptingly akin to Tang flowing through the man’s tubing. John’s jaw unhinged as he loped excitedly forward, biting into the man’s head, slurping down the mysterious orange liquid.
Fingers seized and spasmed for a minute, plugs and IV drips popping out of ports along his skin. Their veins quickly became more and more vascular while fluids began to leak from the cracks in their compound eyes. A hint of condensing energy was occurring in their brain and chest . . . almost like something that was about to explode. Fingers gurgled in response.
The oily liquid tasted almost exactly like the drink Jane had been given, albeit without the freezing sensation; some party. Normally potential toxins and unknown substances like this were swallowed using a specialized digestive tract that opened into a massive portion of Doe’s stomach and left to inevitably neutralize itself against millennias’ worth of devoured foodstuffs. He did no such thing this time, and the drugs went straight to his head. John went nearly limp, jaw still locked shot onto the man as he witnessed everything that had ever happened to him all at once.
Every forgotten bliss, every meal full of disgust, the contempt and fear he felt hunting himself down; every memory like a raindrop cascading through that moment as Doe’s brain kicked into overdrive. A few thousand feet away, Jane’s body was undoubtedly experiencing the same torpor as her mind raced.
And that was when Fingers exploded in a violent burst of bioenergy. Though the process was helped due to a number of mutagenic chemical properties all reacting at once inside the poor man thing.
There was not so much as an explosion, more of a loud wet pop. Sizzling lukewarm gore and liquified bone splattered across the room.
All accompanied by the sudden ding not dissimilar to an oven timer going off. John fell to the floor amid the viscera, pieces of what used to be Finger’s skull embedded in his grey matter, Ego racing through his veins.
Kiran however was unaware of this development, too focused on being a host.
[Hr]
Kiran clapped in delight. All the while trays of organ meats had been produced, which Kiran was in the process of making perfect cuts out of and occasionally mutating to let Jane taste test. ”Splendid, it will be an unmarked red van. Though I would prefer you don’t eat my people up topside, finding good help that blends in with polite society is a chore I’d rather perform sparingly. They sipped their drink and returned to cutting.
Something struck Kiran then. ”What do I call you my dear? A thousand pardons for my rudeness. The whole spread before you is yours to take of course, I would however be curious if you were interested in some work of my own in the future? I will compensate you handsomely.” They gave Jane an equally toothy grin, rows upon rows of fangs slid out and on display.
Jane tried to answer, but her mouth suddenly felt like it was full of molasses, or maybe marrow; regardless the end result was that she sputtered out something about a “Mr. White’s petite lapin,” before falling to the ground in a pile, tripping over her own elongated limb. For some reason, she was suddenly seeing double. Just her and John, in that other place, J-3 barely visible in the background against the smoke and fear; against the pain, anger and chaos filling the air around them. She could feel her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she mumbled “The wall Mr. Gorbachev,” before she lost consciousness.
