@VulkanNo, we're waiting on Kaze. Although come to think of it, I don't think we've seen Alain at all since the terrorist attack on the parade.
Thundercrash Member
The Dimensional Drifter
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@AbandonedIntel@AdobeFlash She's a mutant Felaryan Naga (google it if you dare). You call it a dick move, she calls you lunch.
I am kind of curious how Atlas didn't notice her. She made a LOT of commotion when she became big again.
Like, minor earthquake levels of commotion.
I am kind of curious how Atlas didn't notice her. She made a LOT of commotion when she became big again.
Like, minor earthquake levels of commotion.
@AbandonedIntelWrong side of the pond. I'm Canadian. And Trudeau isn't as dumb as Bush, he's just...
Oh, what's the word I'm looking for...
Oh yeah. "Stupidly Naive."
The sad part was, neither of our other options were any better. In fact, they were worse.
Oh, what's the word I'm looking for...
Oh yeah. "Stupidly Naive."
The sad part was, neither of our other options were any better. In fact, they were worse.
@AbandonedIntel I don't even get to use him as an excuse. Wrong country, and my new guy already has his excuse of just being plain-old stupid.
Any good fiction writer knows that you never, ever, say the phrase "at least it can't get any worse". Because that's just begging for things to get worse. We're all horrible jerks.
*points to self* Case in point.
@AdobeFlash Seriously, you could not have given me a better set up than that. I thank you.
*points to self* Case in point.
@AdobeFlash Seriously, you could not have given me a better set up than that. I thank you.
Warmth. Warmth, brightness, and a pain that was pulsating steadily throughout her body. That was the first set of sensations Adrienne became aware of as she was roused to conciousness. She groaned, or at least she would have if she still had the proper set of vocal cords.
Ugh... What the hell happened? Her memories were fuzzy, and the sand warming her belly scales was pleasantly distracting. I remember... I was at the parlour, finishing up with a client. Some dude who had wanted the exotic package. Then... a box? I was in a box? Ugh, I'm starving, can't think straight. She lifted her head, looking around. Her body felt... weird, not hers. Something was missing. He left, Alice came down, said there was a walk-in. A chick. She came down, and then... oh. Right. She let out an angry hiss. Of course her body felt weird, it wasn't even hers. No arms, no tits, no face, not even eyelids, which was really weird. Alright, steady Adrienne, worry about That later. So, dead bitch used magic, knocked me out, I woke up in a box as a full snake. She twisted around, looking over herself. Well, at least she kept my scale pattern. I think. Ugh, snake eyes are so weird. Okay, next thing. There was a lot of shaking, I was being moved somewhere. Ugh, what is that? Never mind. Where was I taken?
Casting about, she caught sight of a large object gleaming in the sunlight. Is that... a plane? Or at least what's left of one. Memory clicked into place. Wait... yeah. I remember a plane, I remember the engine shaking the box. Bleugh, just thinking about it is making me queasy. So...ugh, fuck that hurts... we crashed, I guess? Owww... this is why I hate flying... ugh... Okay, what the hell is wrong...with...me...oh. Shit.
Shrinking spells are tricky things. When done properly, like the one imprinted into Adrienne's bracelet, the change would happen at a controlled rate and involved a minimum of disorientation as the subject aclimated to their new size and perspective. When done poorly, it was usually both very painful, traumatizing, and nausiating. In both cases, if the spell was improperly dispelled (such as, for example, smashing the box which Adrienne's new shrink spell and the transformation spell were attached to), then the victim would rapidly expand to their original size. This is an extremely painful ordeal, and depending on the size differential and their constitution, could potentially kill the victim from the sheer amount of stress placed on their body. Which was never a pretty sight, as the body literally tore itself apart and exploded.
Fortunately, this is not what happenend to Adrienne. It was, however, excrutiating, and left her very, very, pissed.
Her scream of pain could be heard clear across the beach. As she expanded her torso, or at least what most humans would refer to as her torso, dug a furrow in the sand, while her thrashing tail threw up showers of grit. By the time the transformation was complete, Adrienne was easily the largest four-armed naga the island had ever seen since it had been born. Not to mention probably the only four-armed naga, or naga period, it had ever seen.
For a few seconds, Adrienne laid on her back, chest heaving as she panted, eyes screwed up in pain. Then, she screamed again. "FFFUUUCCCKKK!!!" Slowly, gingerly, she pushed herself up with her lower arms, clasping her head with her upper. "Dammit! I'm gonna kill that fucking bitch!" After a moment, she looked at herself, and a broad smile broke across her face. "Wait... Ha ha! I'm free! HA HA! SUCK IT, BITCH, YOUR SPELLWORK IS SHIT!" Immediately she interlaced both tiers of arms, stretched them out in front of her, and cracked her knuckles. "Ohhh, that feels sooo gooooood."
Planting all four hands in the sand, she began twisting around, cracking the vertebrae in her back. It was a bad habit, she knew, especially for a "masseuse", but fuck if she cared. As she made the second pass on her back, she caught sight of the other survivors, reminding her that she hadn't been the only on the plane. It also reminded her of how hungry she was.
For a moment, she stared at them, and they stared at her. Finally she scowled. "What?"
Ugh... What the hell happened? Her memories were fuzzy, and the sand warming her belly scales was pleasantly distracting. I remember... I was at the parlour, finishing up with a client. Some dude who had wanted the exotic package. Then... a box? I was in a box? Ugh, I'm starving, can't think straight. She lifted her head, looking around. Her body felt... weird, not hers. Something was missing. He left, Alice came down, said there was a walk-in. A chick. She came down, and then... oh. Right. She let out an angry hiss. Of course her body felt weird, it wasn't even hers. No arms, no tits, no face, not even eyelids, which was really weird. Alright, steady Adrienne, worry about That later. So, dead bitch used magic, knocked me out, I woke up in a box as a full snake. She twisted around, looking over herself. Well, at least she kept my scale pattern. I think. Ugh, snake eyes are so weird. Okay, next thing. There was a lot of shaking, I was being moved somewhere. Ugh, what is that? Never mind. Where was I taken?
Casting about, she caught sight of a large object gleaming in the sunlight. Is that... a plane? Or at least what's left of one. Memory clicked into place. Wait... yeah. I remember a plane, I remember the engine shaking the box. Bleugh, just thinking about it is making me queasy. So...ugh, fuck that hurts... we crashed, I guess? Owww... this is why I hate flying... ugh... Okay, what the hell is wrong...with...me...oh. Shit.
Shrinking spells are tricky things. When done properly, like the one imprinted into Adrienne's bracelet, the change would happen at a controlled rate and involved a minimum of disorientation as the subject aclimated to their new size and perspective. When done poorly, it was usually both very painful, traumatizing, and nausiating. In both cases, if the spell was improperly dispelled (such as, for example, smashing the box which Adrienne's new shrink spell and the transformation spell were attached to), then the victim would rapidly expand to their original size. This is an extremely painful ordeal, and depending on the size differential and their constitution, could potentially kill the victim from the sheer amount of stress placed on their body. Which was never a pretty sight, as the body literally tore itself apart and exploded.
Fortunately, this is not what happenend to Adrienne. It was, however, excrutiating, and left her very, very, pissed.
Her scream of pain could be heard clear across the beach. As she expanded her torso, or at least what most humans would refer to as her torso, dug a furrow in the sand, while her thrashing tail threw up showers of grit. By the time the transformation was complete, Adrienne was easily the largest four-armed naga the island had ever seen since it had been born. Not to mention probably the only four-armed naga, or naga period, it had ever seen.
For a few seconds, Adrienne laid on her back, chest heaving as she panted, eyes screwed up in pain. Then, she screamed again. "FFFUUUCCCKKK!!!" Slowly, gingerly, she pushed herself up with her lower arms, clasping her head with her upper. "Dammit! I'm gonna kill that fucking bitch!" After a moment, she looked at herself, and a broad smile broke across her face. "Wait... Ha ha! I'm free! HA HA! SUCK IT, BITCH, YOUR SPELLWORK IS SHIT!" Immediately she interlaced both tiers of arms, stretched them out in front of her, and cracked her knuckles. "Ohhh, that feels sooo gooooood."
Planting all four hands in the sand, she began twisting around, cracking the vertebrae in her back. It was a bad habit, she knew, especially for a "masseuse", but fuck if she cared. As she made the second pass on her back, she caught sight of the other survivors, reminding her that she hadn't been the only on the plane. It also reminded her of how hungry she was.
For a moment, she stared at them, and they stared at her. Finally she scowled. "What?"
Bloop.
Well, that was the darkest thing I've ever written.
The sun was well up into the sky by the time that Christi made it back home. The truck was still there, which meant that both her father and brother were home. Daniel could be anywhere, but at least her father was probably still sleeping off the night before. She paused as Jack rushed towards her from around behind the house, barking. Stopping to rub his head with her hands nuzzle her face between the German Shepard's ears, she smiled. "Hey there, boy. Are you happy to see me?" Her eyes stung as she blinked, and she gave him the last piece of jerky in her pocket. "There you go. Good boy. Good boy." As she stepped through the door, she wrinkled her nose at the alcohol-soaked air. Having spent the last of their savings from the past two months, Arthur Raines had decided to have himself a one-man pity party, compliments of the house. Although to look at the place, one could be forgiven for thinking that half the boys in town had been there. Empty bottles were strewn all across the floor, the front window had been smashed, one of the chairs had been over-turned. The whole bottom level of the house had been completely trashed, with the party ending in an unmoving heap on the floor in the middle of the room, a bottle still in his hand. Sighing, Christi laid her backpack and crossbow by the door, grabbed the lone garbage can from beneath the sink, emptied it outside, and began the oft-repeated process of cleaning up.
As she worked, every so often she'd glance at the south wall of the house. On the other side, she knew, was a half-finished skeleton of an expansion. In one of his rare lucid moments, her father had told her that they had started building it when they found out her mother had been pregnant with her. The plan had been to make it a room for Daniel, while she would eventually get his old one upstairs. Of course, her mother dying had put a halt to those plans. Daniel was still upstairs, and while for the first few years she had stayed in her father's room, most of her life had been spent in the workshed outside with Jack.
She was just walking in with an armful of two-by-four sections to cover the window with when her father finally stirred, pushing himself up off the floor. "Ugh." As he sat up, he blinked at her, as though not really seeing her. "Wh're the fug w're you?"
Christi swallowed. Nope. Still drunk. "I-I was out hunting." She laid the pile of wood on the counter, clutching her arm nervously.
"Mmph." He wiped a hand over his face. "Jya get a'ything?"
She shook her head. "N-no. I almost di-"
"W'LL TH'N WHA GOO ARE YA!" She flinched as the bottle whizzed past her head, smashing through the previously unbroken window in the door. Her father climbed to his feet, his eyes blood-shot and looking for more of it. "Fuggin stupid girl, can'sh ya do a'ything right!" He rushed over, seizing her by the arm and roughly smacking the side of her head.
Christi sagged in his grip, half-stunned by the blow. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Daddy, I swea-" She was cut off by another blow to the head. Lost in his own drunken rage, her father didn't hear a single word she said, in fact she doubted he even knew what he was angry about.
She didn't know when she had done it. At first, she didn't even realize her knife was in her hand. All she knew was that suddenly he had stopped, leaning on her and staring at her as if seeing her for the first time in his life. Slack-jawed, he stared at her, and her at him, eyes wide in terror. Ever so slowly his hand came up and brushed her cheek, his fingers touching with more tenderness than she had felt from him since she could remember. Off to the side, she could dimly hear Jack barking and whining.
A ghost of a relieved smile crossed her father's lips, and his eyes closed as he fell away from her. She stared down at his body, Jack running to his side and whining, then down at the knife in her hand, and suddenly she felt sick to her stomach. A small part of her thought she heard somebody crying half-sensical words, and in muted surprise realized it was her.
She turned, staggering, then froze. Her brother was standing on the stairs, eyes wide in shock. Christi looked at him, at the bloody knife in her hand again, then back to him. "Danny, I-"
Shock turned to rage, and Daniel stormed towards his sister. "You BITCH! What, it wasn't enough for you to take Mom away? You had to kill Dad too?"
Christi stumbled away from him, tears starting to pool in her eyes. "Danny, please, I didn't mean to! It was an accident, I swear! I didn't... I wouldn't... please!" She brought her hands up, waiting for blow to come.
It didn't. Instead, Daniel suddenly stumbled and swayed, eyes widening in surprise as the room seemed to spin around him. His feet went out from under him, and he fell, striking his head on the side of the table. Christi clapped her hand over her mouth, and for a moment thought that she had killed him too. When he groaned, she didn't know if she was feeling relief, or fear.
Grabbing hold of the table, Daniel struggled to rise. "Ugh... whua..." Immediately he slumped back down, one hand pressed against his bleeding head, then leaned over and vomited on the floor. "What the... what the hell..." He finally managed to look up at Christi, frozen nearby. "Why..."
For a moment, brother and sister locked eyes. Dawning comprehension mixed with fear slowly grew across Daniel's face, and a yawning pit of dread opened in Christi's stomach. "You're like her."
Christi shook her head. "No. Danny, no..."
Her brother's expression gave way to such fierce hatred and utter disgust that she gasped. "You're like her, aren't you." Again he struggled to rise, causing her to take a step back, but he fell down again. "That's why..."
She started moving slowly, taking small steps backwards, then turned and broke into a run. She paused only to grab her backpack and crossbow on the way past, and just kept running, crying as she went. She was only faintly aware of Jack running beside her, barking, and her brother screaming after her from inside the house. "YOU'RE DEAD, CHRISTI! YOU HEAR ME? YOU'RE DEAD! WE'RE GONNA FIND YOU, AND WE'RE GONNA DO TO YOU EXACTLY WHAT WE DID TO THAT HELTON BITCH! YOU CAN'T RUN! CHRISTI!" She didn't have a plan, didn't know where she was going, and in that moment, she didn't care.
As long as it wasn't here.
As she worked, every so often she'd glance at the south wall of the house. On the other side, she knew, was a half-finished skeleton of an expansion. In one of his rare lucid moments, her father had told her that they had started building it when they found out her mother had been pregnant with her. The plan had been to make it a room for Daniel, while she would eventually get his old one upstairs. Of course, her mother dying had put a halt to those plans. Daniel was still upstairs, and while for the first few years she had stayed in her father's room, most of her life had been spent in the workshed outside with Jack.
She was just walking in with an armful of two-by-four sections to cover the window with when her father finally stirred, pushing himself up off the floor. "Ugh." As he sat up, he blinked at her, as though not really seeing her. "Wh're the fug w're you?"
Christi swallowed. Nope. Still drunk. "I-I was out hunting." She laid the pile of wood on the counter, clutching her arm nervously.
"Mmph." He wiped a hand over his face. "Jya get a'ything?"
She shook her head. "N-no. I almost di-"
"W'LL TH'N WHA GOO ARE YA!" She flinched as the bottle whizzed past her head, smashing through the previously unbroken window in the door. Her father climbed to his feet, his eyes blood-shot and looking for more of it. "Fuggin stupid girl, can'sh ya do a'ything right!" He rushed over, seizing her by the arm and roughly smacking the side of her head.
Christi sagged in his grip, half-stunned by the blow. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Daddy, I swea-" She was cut off by another blow to the head. Lost in his own drunken rage, her father didn't hear a single word she said, in fact she doubted he even knew what he was angry about.
She didn't know when she had done it. At first, she didn't even realize her knife was in her hand. All she knew was that suddenly he had stopped, leaning on her and staring at her as if seeing her for the first time in his life. Slack-jawed, he stared at her, and her at him, eyes wide in terror. Ever so slowly his hand came up and brushed her cheek, his fingers touching with more tenderness than she had felt from him since she could remember. Off to the side, she could dimly hear Jack barking and whining.
A ghost of a relieved smile crossed her father's lips, and his eyes closed as he fell away from her. She stared down at his body, Jack running to his side and whining, then down at the knife in her hand, and suddenly she felt sick to her stomach. A small part of her thought she heard somebody crying half-sensical words, and in muted surprise realized it was her.
She turned, staggering, then froze. Her brother was standing on the stairs, eyes wide in shock. Christi looked at him, at the bloody knife in her hand again, then back to him. "Danny, I-"
Shock turned to rage, and Daniel stormed towards his sister. "You BITCH! What, it wasn't enough for you to take Mom away? You had to kill Dad too?"
Christi stumbled away from him, tears starting to pool in her eyes. "Danny, please, I didn't mean to! It was an accident, I swear! I didn't... I wouldn't... please!" She brought her hands up, waiting for blow to come.
It didn't. Instead, Daniel suddenly stumbled and swayed, eyes widening in surprise as the room seemed to spin around him. His feet went out from under him, and he fell, striking his head on the side of the table. Christi clapped her hand over her mouth, and for a moment thought that she had killed him too. When he groaned, she didn't know if she was feeling relief, or fear.
Grabbing hold of the table, Daniel struggled to rise. "Ugh... whua..." Immediately he slumped back down, one hand pressed against his bleeding head, then leaned over and vomited on the floor. "What the... what the hell..." He finally managed to look up at Christi, frozen nearby. "Why..."
For a moment, brother and sister locked eyes. Dawning comprehension mixed with fear slowly grew across Daniel's face, and a yawning pit of dread opened in Christi's stomach. "You're like her."
Christi shook her head. "No. Danny, no..."
Her brother's expression gave way to such fierce hatred and utter disgust that she gasped. "You're like her, aren't you." Again he struggled to rise, causing her to take a step back, but he fell down again. "That's why..."
She started moving slowly, taking small steps backwards, then turned and broke into a run. She paused only to grab her backpack and crossbow on the way past, and just kept running, crying as she went. She was only faintly aware of Jack running beside her, barking, and her brother screaming after her from inside the house. "YOU'RE DEAD, CHRISTI! YOU HEAR ME? YOU'RE DEAD! WE'RE GONNA FIND YOU, AND WE'RE GONNA DO TO YOU EXACTLY WHAT WE DID TO THAT HELTON BITCH! YOU CAN'T RUN! CHRISTI!" She didn't have a plan, didn't know where she was going, and in that moment, she didn't care.
As long as it wasn't here.
Just lay them out and measure already 
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