the-expendable

[the-expendable]

Kari paused briefly, a wry sort of smile finding its way to her expression. “I don’t either. I just - I don’t want to think on it.” She still felt weak, but she’d manage. Worst case scenario.. back to the submarine she’d go. Sitting and lingering on it all wouldn’t have her making progress through the facility.

“Look, I’m positive that I’m fine to move on.” Not entirely fine, but fine enough. She wasn’t about to voice that bit, however. Instead, she attempted to flash a more genuine sort of smile.. albeit a tired one at that. “I’ll be okay. C’mon - doubt Urbanshade will be too happy if they see I’m just.. standing around for a long time.”

Waking from death felt akin to waking from a dream, in some odd sense. It wasn’t ever pleasant, frankly - it always ended in jolts of pain and fear that never quite seemed to go away. She thought she’d get used to it, eventually. Evidently not, sitting at.. hell, how many now? Four? It seemed as if the further they got, the more risky encounters they dealt with. At the very least, being able to meet right back at the docks helped, rather than making the trek all the way back on her own.

This time, however, waking on the familiar cold surface of the submarine felt different. Maybe it was just how hot she felt. Or maybe it was the vague feeling of something dripping down her face. Or, perhaps it was how strange her own fingers felt, braced against the cool steel of the flooring.

She grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, sitting upright. Her head hurt, but that was more so a familiar feeling. A hand lifted ever so slightly, only for her to pause. Her hand- why did it look off? Those were claws. Those weren’t familiar. Was it some sort of sick, twisted dream? It felt like it. Oh, god - where was pAInter? To have any confirmation of it being her imagination.. it felt like a necessity. Or perhaps her worst fear would be confirmed instead.

// timeskiparoni

He couldn't help but wander a bit aimlessly. How the hell did he lose her? She wasn't that easy to miss, after all. Well, not in the typical way, but he knew what she looked like. She was the only expendable to not lose their shit at the sight of him or think he was a distant beacon of some kind.

Ironic, since that was how it started.

Back to plodding along and retreading his steps, it seemed. He couldn't help but worry a little, sure she wouldn't stay dead if she was, but finding someone's corpse? Not pleasant, even if he'd probably end up eating it.

Ah. That's that, then. The familiar sight of blood and violence. A grimace crosses his face and he manages to drag it away. He'd have to--if nothing else to spare her the sight... pAInter looks back at it, hoping she'll take some time to come back. He doesn't want her to catch him in the midst of it.

[the-expendable]

The silence that had settled upon the two was, frankly, somewhat reassuring. It was easy at least, being able to sit and try to process whatever thoughts had slipped into her mind. A hand reached up to wipe away whatever remainder of blood from the nose bleed that remained, a long breath being taken in.

Finally, after a few more minutes, she had gone to move to sit up more. “‘M okay now.” She managed. As okay as she could be, but that was better than nothing. Swaying slightly in her movements, a hand braced against the ground in preparation to stand. “I can — get going now.”

Waking from death felt akin to waking from a dream, in some odd sense. It wasn’t ever pleasant, frankly - it always ended in jolts of pain and fear that never quite seemed to go away. She thought she’d get used to it, eventually. Evidently not, sitting at.. hell, how many now? Four? It seemed as if the further they got, the more risky encounters they dealt with. At the very least, being able to meet right back at the docks helped, rather than making the trek all the way back on her own.

This time, however, waking on the familiar cold surface of the submarine felt different. Maybe it was just how hot she felt. Or maybe it was the vague feeling of something dripping down her face. Or, perhaps it was how strange her own fingers felt, braced against the cool steel of the flooring.

She grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, sitting upright. Her head hurt, but that was more so a familiar feeling. A hand lifted ever so slightly, only for her to pause. Her hand- why did it look off? Those were claws. Those weren’t familiar. Was it some sort of sick, twisted dream? It felt like it. Oh, god - where was pAInter? To have any confirmation of it being her imagination.. it felt like a necessity. Or perhaps her worst fear would be confirmed instead.

// timeskiparoni

He couldn't help but wander a bit aimlessly. How the hell did he lose her? She wasn't that easy to miss, after all. Well, not in the typical way, but he knew what she looked like. She was the only expendable to not lose their shit at the sight of him or think he was a distant beacon of some kind.

Ironic, since that was how it started.

Back to plodding along and retreading his steps, it seemed. He couldn't help but worry a little, sure she wouldn't stay dead if she was, but finding someone's corpse? Not pleasant, even if he'd probably end up eating it.

Ah. That's that, then. The familiar sight of blood and violence. A grimace crosses his face and he manages to drag it away. He'd have to--if nothing else to spare her the sight... pAInter looks back at it, hoping she'll take some time to come back. He doesn't want her to catch him in the midst of it.

[the-expendable]

/ good heavens i need to actually get back into the groove of this blog,, hello everyone

[the-expendable]

// I’ve had this account for so long; fun fact! I repurposed an old account (now this account) for this blog originally.

[the-expendable]

The ache had slowly begun to ebb away, though certainly not enough to make its presence unknown to Kari. No, it remained just ever so slightly present, enough so to have her grimacing just a bit more. She flexed her fingers, struggling to entirely adapt to the unfamiliarity of the sharpness at the ends of them.

A breath was taken in, sharp and quick. “I’m scared.” She managed. Hell, she felt akin to some sort of child - sitting there at the ground, shaking like a leaf. Clueless as to what was happening, and horrified for the worst. She squeezed her eyes shut, a brief sort of thing. The pain had lessened now, at least. “I.. I’ll be good in a minute. Just- give me a second.”

Waking from death felt akin to waking from a dream, in some odd sense. It wasn’t ever pleasant, frankly - it always ended in jolts of pain and fear that never quite seemed to go away. She thought she’d get used to it, eventually. Evidently not, sitting at.. hell, how many now? Four? It seemed as if the further they got, the more risky encounters they dealt with. At the very least, being able to meet right back at the docks helped, rather than making the trek all the way back on her own.

This time, however, waking on the familiar cold surface of the submarine felt different. Maybe it was just how hot she felt. Or maybe it was the vague feeling of something dripping down her face. Or, perhaps it was how strange her own fingers felt, braced against the cool steel of the flooring.

She grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, sitting upright. Her head hurt, but that was more so a familiar feeling. A hand lifted ever so slightly, only for her to pause. Her hand- why did it look off? Those were claws. Those weren’t familiar. Was it some sort of sick, twisted dream? It felt like it. Oh, god - where was pAInter? To have any confirmation of it being her imagination.. it felt like a necessity. Or perhaps her worst fear would be confirmed instead.

// timeskiparoni

He couldn't help but wander a bit aimlessly. How the hell did he lose her? She wasn't that easy to miss, after all. Well, not in the typical way, but he knew what she looked like. She was the only expendable to not lose their shit at the sight of him or think he was a distant beacon of some kind.

Ironic, since that was how it started.

Back to plodding along and retreading his steps, it seemed. He couldn't help but worry a little, sure she wouldn't stay dead if she was, but finding someone's corpse? Not pleasant, even if he'd probably end up eating it.

Ah. That's that, then. The familiar sight of blood and violence. A grimace crosses his face and he manages to drag it away. He'd have to--if nothing else to spare her the sight... pAInter looks back at it, hoping she'll take some time to come back. He doesn't want her to catch him in the midst of it.

[the-expendable]

YOU.

[the-expendable]

(CW for minor emeto mention [only one line] and a lot of body horror/transformation)

It’d been a few days since he’d suddenly been hit by it. Pain, agony almost, and then nothing. He didn’t get it, honestly, until he’d shambled to a mirror in the middle of the night. Whatever this was didn’t give him night vision, but it sure as hell had turned his fingers into claws, given him a weird set of bug-like antennae, and a few inches in height. 

(He didn’t mind that last part, honestly. Having to look up at multiple people sucked. Might as well have some kind of positive from this.)

Oh, and a terrible, aching hunger. Which he didn’t even register at first. After all, who would register the most awful pain in their abdomen as hunger? Especially someone who’d never felt it before? 

For him, it felt like torture. All he could think was that he needed to call someone, or scream, or something. Maybe find some ice or something to make it stop hurting long enough to call 911. 

Peeling open the fridge in a frenzy, his eyes locked onto a slab of meat. That was all it took for his mind to lapse entirely. He didn’t notice anything else, no noise, no sights, nothing. It barely registered a damn thing, only the taste of the meat.

Reality hit him like a truck when the hand grabbed him by the shoulder. If he wasn’t currently in someone’s grasp, he would have jumped straight through the ceiling. He whirled around, eyes wide, almost like he was looking straight into death, about to prepare a bargain for the Ferryman herself. 

In the pitch blackness, he could hardly see the face of the other, only registering the straight line of their lips by the glow of their eyes. A strange sort of strangled smile came across that face and his mind finally recognized Sebastian. 

“Did you get a haircut or something? You look different.” pAInter could barely register what was said before he was gently pulled back and the fridge was closed. The two of them stared at each other for a few moments.

“Sebastian! I–uhh…” He could barely stammer a damn coherent thing. His eyes trailed to the fridge and the memories rushed back, albeit hazily. pAInter couldn’t help but cringe. That’s when he noticed the terrible ache in his stomach was gone. 

Oh. Shit. Why did this happen? What the hell had happened? He’d heard of people suddenly going from normal to not, but he’d never thought it’d happen to him. Everyone had already told him he was too ‘anomalous’ for it. Was that false? Or was it possible for someone who was anomalous to become even more so? If it were possible, he’d be struggling to breathe. Instead, he just stood there, vision so hazy it might as well have been taken from him. 

“Hey, hey, stop that.” Sebastian was waving one hand in front of his face. pAInter hated to admit it, but it certainly brought him out of it. Of course, it was mainly because he was now too busy trying to glare a hole into Sebastian to dissociate. Sadly, it only lasted for a moment.

“Arghhh… What the hell is this?” pAinter had turned his focus to the claws that his fingers now were. “It doesn’t make any sense! Why do I eat things? Why do I have–these?” He pointed at the claws frantically, almost as if they were about to walk off. Sebastian let out a strange, almost uncomfortable laugh, earning him another glare. 

“Sorry, that last part got a bit too relatable.” Sebastian clasped his hands together, mouth halfway coiled into a grimace. 

pAInter couldn’t help but look back at the claws, noticing in the glow of Sebastian’s eyes that his hands were now pitch black, a color that trailed up his forearms and transitioned into a gray. Almost like he was some fucked up siamese cat. He couldn’t help but assume the same had happened to his legs. His hands soon found their way to the weird, almost stunted antennae on his head. Why were those there? Although, maybe it was why he’d seemed to develop a sort of new sense. Something he could barely describe.

Tugging at the new appendages like they owed him money, he asked the stupidest question of his life. “What’s it called when you taste things in the air?” He couldn’t help but squint while asking that. Sebastian let out a strange bark of laughter for a moment, before his expression inevitably softened. 

“You mean you can smell things now?” He couldn’t stop the laughs that escaped between his words.

“That’s what it is?” pAInter asked, feeling one of the new fucked up appendages twitch upwards, almost like a dog’s ear. “Everything’s louder too. Honestly, if I was going to get a new sense, I’d want night vision.”

“I have it. It’s not worth the light sensitivity.” Sebastian crossed his arms and flicked his fluke from side to side. It seemed to be his equivalent of tapping one foot anxiously. 

“And super hearing is worth the ear pain?” 

“Fair. I guess. But you have bug ears. For all we know, they might be immune!” Sebastian playfully grabbed at one of the antennae, making pAInter wish for a moment that he could self-destruct. 

“Do not call them bug ears.” pAInter wished his voice could drip venom. 

“Okay, Bug Ears.” Sebastian snickered and pAInter could feel a rush of anger. He gently beat on the other, not only out of restraint, but also because he likely couldn’t do anything anyways. Sebastian pushed him back with one hand and pAInter could feel the rush return, accompanied with—

Something else? The moment he tried to focus on it, it seemed to shove itself down under the surface, like his body was a damned ocean. What the hell was living in his skin? Had he gone mad? Was it anxiety? He hoped, pleaded even, that it was just anxiety. 

But it didn’t feel like it, did it?

-

It was funny how things could change overnight yet stay exactly the same. Barring the adjustment period of bumping into tree branches, making sure to not accidentally tear things up with his fingers and of course making sure to invest in a bunch of hats. It made the whole ordeal of looking like a damn bug a lot easier to stomach. Plus, it helped with the volume issue. 

Food was another issue. Having to suddenly explain to people at work that he needed a lunch break because of some random cosmic bullshit? That was awkward. Plus, making sure he had enough food over the day was a chore at best and an agonizing bet at worst.

Maintaining a charge? That was easy. He just had to sit at a wall for an hour every two days. He could draw, watch a stupid video, hell even space out! Eating was more… Conscious. Obnoxious, constant. Tastes and textures too, and god forbid he ate something outside of what he was allowed. He’d never known how terrible it was to throw up before. Anything other than meat? His body hated it. He couldn’t even have a damn sandwich. What was the point of eating if he was restricted?

He didn’t know how it could get worse. He didn’t even know it could. 

As the agony flooded his body, he wished that he’d never thought life could be easy. Of course it could get worse, of course it didn’t end at being some carnivorous, antennaed machine! His life was some fucked up tragedy, after all! Was he dying? Was this some secret terminal thing? 

It took so much effort just to duck away into an alley, his legs feeling like someone had shoved a thousand razor blades into them. They could barely keep him upright, his form crashing onto the ground like a sack of potatoes. 

Everything hurt. He had to be dying, right? What else could hurt this much? Did he do something wrong? Did he mess with some force beyond his comprehension? He didn’t know. Didn’t remember. All he knew was his body felt like some child’s putty, being pulled to the breaking point. 

A crack exploded through his body and he could barely hold back a scream. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see something had gone wrong with his hands. Were they—larger? A whine crawled out of his throat as he realized with horror that what he was seeing was real. Those small claws at the end of his fingers had grown into sharp talons and his thumbs had practically shrunk into dewclaws. What the fuck? This couldn’t have been possible. It shouldn’t have been possible. 

He wished this would kill him. He’d have rather taken death. Please! Could this just kill him instead? 

Almost on autopilot, his eyes tore away from his hands and he couldn’t help but glance at his back. It took so much effort to stifle a tortured yowl at the sight of several quills taking shape. He didn’t want to comprehend how many he’d have at the end of this. He doubted all of the pain in his back was from those wretched spines. It felt almost like he was being rearranged. 

With all of his effort, he managed to arrange himself onto his side. It took so much effort to not peer back at the spines, let alone resist the urge to cry. His gaze slowly dripped down to his feet. After seeing his hands twisted into terrible claws, it didn’t surprise him to see his feet had met the same fate, ankles stretching into some sort of–

Shit, that was the same stance as an animal! Was he going to have to crawl around on all fours like some kind of dog?! He finally let himself cry for once, even if it only came out as quiet, strangled sobs. He tried his best to keep his focus away from how animalistic they sounded. He tried to ignore the itchiness at his neck and the way it felt like he was being pulled. Or the fact he felt terribly large all of a sudden. And that was ignoring the way his spine seemed to be lengthening at the back. 

Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes felt like hours. But eventually, he could feel the pain subside. He couldn’t help but coil into himself, wrapping his newly grown tail around himself. If he had enough energy to care, he knew he’d panic, but all he could do was sob quietly.

[the-expendable]

Kari winced the tiniest bit when he had gone to pull her out, though it certainly seemed to work just fine. The burning was beginning to ebb away, slowly but surely. But, that didn’t halt just how warm she felt. Nor did it stop the way her mind had locked on to the changes that had happened. The claws, the fucking claws -

Once getting out of the submarine, she swallowed thickly, eyeing the water by the dock for a small moment before finding the energy to speak once more. “I don’t know what’s happening, pAInter.” Her voice wavered as she spoke, cracking towards the end. It was horrifying. Perhaps more frightening than death at this point. To see and feel the changes without being able to do a single thing.. god, she felt sick all over again.

Waking from death felt akin to waking from a dream, in some odd sense. It wasn’t ever pleasant, frankly - it always ended in jolts of pain and fear that never quite seemed to go away. She thought she’d get used to it, eventually. Evidently not, sitting at.. hell, how many now? Four? It seemed as if the further they got, the more risky encounters they dealt with. At the very least, being able to meet right back at the docks helped, rather than making the trek all the way back on her own.

This time, however, waking on the familiar cold surface of the submarine felt different. Maybe it was just how hot she felt. Or maybe it was the vague feeling of something dripping down her face. Or, perhaps it was how strange her own fingers felt, braced against the cool steel of the flooring.

She grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, sitting upright. Her head hurt, but that was more so a familiar feeling. A hand lifted ever so slightly, only for her to pause. Her hand- why did it look off? Those were claws. Those weren’t familiar. Was it some sort of sick, twisted dream? It felt like it. Oh, god - where was pAInter? To have any confirmation of it being her imagination.. it felt like a necessity. Or perhaps her worst fear would be confirmed instead.

// timeskiparoni

He couldn't help but wander a bit aimlessly. How the hell did he lose her? She wasn't that easy to miss, after all. Well, not in the typical way, but he knew what she looked like. She was the only expendable to not lose their shit at the sight of him or think he was a distant beacon of some kind.

Ironic, since that was how it started.

Back to plodding along and retreading his steps, it seemed. He couldn't help but worry a little, sure she wouldn't stay dead if she was, but finding someone's corpse? Not pleasant, even if he'd probably end up eating it.

Ah. That's that, then. The familiar sight of blood and violence. A grimace crosses his face and he manages to drag it away. He'd have to--if nothing else to spare her the sight... pAInter looks back at it, hoping she'll take some time to come back. He doesn't want her to catch him in the midst of it.

[the-expendable]

The silence was an unnerving sort of thing. Something that had her feeling worse, if at all possible. The water that was just under the pathway of the submarine felt as if it was endless. What would happen if—? No, she cut that train of thought off as quickly as it had come. Slowly, she managed to get to her feet, a hand braced against the wall of the submarine.

She hadn’t had claws before. She might have felt a bit warmer each revival, but nothing like this. And the nose bleed.. it wasn’t as if they’d ever been common for her.

“I just need help getting out of here.” The words were almost a whimper. “It’s just - hard. Hard to walk, to move-“ Agony. All of it.

Waking from death felt akin to waking from a dream, in some odd sense. It wasn’t ever pleasant, frankly - it always ended in jolts of pain and fear that never quite seemed to go away. She thought she’d get used to it, eventually. Evidently not, sitting at.. hell, how many now? Four? It seemed as if the further they got, the more risky encounters they dealt with. At the very least, being able to meet right back at the docks helped, rather than making the trek all the way back on her own.

This time, however, waking on the familiar cold surface of the submarine felt different. Maybe it was just how hot she felt. Or maybe it was the vague feeling of something dripping down her face. Or, perhaps it was how strange her own fingers felt, braced against the cool steel of the flooring.

She grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, sitting upright. Her head hurt, but that was more so a familiar feeling. A hand lifted ever so slightly, only for her to pause. Her hand- why did it look off? Those were claws. Those weren’t familiar. Was it some sort of sick, twisted dream? It felt like it. Oh, god - where was pAInter? To have any confirmation of it being her imagination.. it felt like a necessity. Or perhaps her worst fear would be confirmed instead.

// timeskiparoni

He couldn't help but wander a bit aimlessly. How the hell did he lose her? She wasn't that easy to miss, after all. Well, not in the typical way, but he knew what she looked like. She was the only expendable to not lose their shit at the sight of him or think he was a distant beacon of some kind.

Ironic, since that was how it started.

Back to plodding along and retreading his steps, it seemed. He couldn't help but worry a little, sure she wouldn't stay dead if she was, but finding someone's corpse? Not pleasant, even if he'd probably end up eating it.

Ah. That's that, then. The familiar sight of blood and violence. A grimace crosses his face and he manages to drag it away. He'd have to--if nothing else to spare her the sight... pAInter looks back at it, hoping she'll take some time to come back. He doesn't want her to catch him in the midst of it.

[the-expendable]

Oh. The blood. It was what he had noticed. Not.. everything else. She grit her teeth, lifting a hand to her nose. Anything to try and clear the damned blood away from her face. It smeared onto the back of her hand in the process, a shaky sort of breath leaving her.

“I didn’t — I don’t know. Something’s wrong. Something isn’t right.” She had to fight back another sob, almost fumbling over her own words. “Everything hurts. Something isn’t right.”

Waking from death felt akin to waking from a dream, in some odd sense. It wasn’t ever pleasant, frankly - it always ended in jolts of pain and fear that never quite seemed to go away. She thought she’d get used to it, eventually. Evidently not, sitting at.. hell, how many now? Four? It seemed as if the further they got, the more risky encounters they dealt with. At the very least, being able to meet right back at the docks helped, rather than making the trek all the way back on her own.

This time, however, waking on the familiar cold surface of the submarine felt different. Maybe it was just how hot she felt. Or maybe it was the vague feeling of something dripping down her face. Or, perhaps it was how strange her own fingers felt, braced against the cool steel of the flooring.

She grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, sitting upright. Her head hurt, but that was more so a familiar feeling. A hand lifted ever so slightly, only for her to pause. Her hand- why did it look off? Those were claws. Those weren’t familiar. Was it some sort of sick, twisted dream? It felt like it. Oh, god - where was pAInter? To have any confirmation of it being her imagination.. it felt like a necessity. Or perhaps her worst fear would be confirmed instead.

// timeskiparoni

He couldn't help but wander a bit aimlessly. How the hell did he lose her? She wasn't that easy to miss, after all. Well, not in the typical way, but he knew what she looked like. She was the only expendable to not lose their shit at the sight of him or think he was a distant beacon of some kind.

Ironic, since that was how it started.

Back to plodding along and retreading his steps, it seemed. He couldn't help but worry a little, sure she wouldn't stay dead if she was, but finding someone's corpse? Not pleasant, even if he'd probably end up eating it.

Ah. That's that, then. The familiar sight of blood and violence. A grimace crosses his face and he manages to drag it away. He'd have to--if nothing else to spare her the sight... pAInter looks back at it, hoping she'll take some time to come back. He doesn't want her to catch him in the midst of it.

[the-expendable]

She could hear something, eventually. The sound of footsteps, of claws against the ground - she could only hope that it was who she thought. That it was who she wanted to see. The only person she held any level of trust in. Swallowing thickly, she braced herself up on an arm, only to pause when hearing the familiar voice ring out. A confirmation of what she had hoped for.

“pAInter —“ She heaved out a breath, watching as the droplets of blood hit the ground. When was the last time she had a nose bleed? Were they always this bad? She didn’t know. “Help. I need —help.” A plead. A beg for some sort of assistance.

Waking from death felt akin to waking from a dream, in some odd sense. It wasn’t ever pleasant, frankly - it always ended in jolts of pain and fear that never quite seemed to go away. She thought she’d get used to it, eventually. Evidently not, sitting at.. hell, how many now? Four? It seemed as if the further they got, the more risky encounters they dealt with. At the very least, being able to meet right back at the docks helped, rather than making the trek all the way back on her own.

This time, however, waking on the familiar cold surface of the submarine felt different. Maybe it was just how hot she felt. Or maybe it was the vague feeling of something dripping down her face. Or, perhaps it was how strange her own fingers felt, braced against the cool steel of the flooring.

She grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, sitting upright. Her head hurt, but that was more so a familiar feeling. A hand lifted ever so slightly, only for her to pause. Her hand- why did it look off? Those were claws. Those weren’t familiar. Was it some sort of sick, twisted dream? It felt like it. Oh, god - where was pAInter? To have any confirmation of it being her imagination.. it felt like a necessity. Or perhaps her worst fear would be confirmed instead.

// timeskiparoni

He couldn't help but wander a bit aimlessly. How the hell did he lose her? She wasn't that easy to miss, after all. Well, not in the typical way, but he knew what she looked like. She was the only expendable to not lose their shit at the sight of him or think he was a distant beacon of some kind.

Ironic, since that was how it started.

Back to plodding along and retreading his steps, it seemed. He couldn't help but worry a little, sure she wouldn't stay dead if she was, but finding someone's corpse? Not pleasant, even if he'd probably end up eating it.

Ah. That's that, then. The familiar sight of blood and violence. A grimace crosses his face and he manages to drag it away. He'd have to--if nothing else to spare her the sight... pAInter looks back at it, hoping she'll take some time to come back. He doesn't want her to catch him in the midst of it.

[the-expendable]

Her head felt as if it were spinning, and for a moment, she almost thought that she’d get sick. Why did her body feel as if it were on fire? This didn’t feel normal. Not at all. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong and she was alone. Would he realize that something was off, too? Make his way to the docks? Maybe. Maybe not. She found a choked sort of sob tearing through her throat.

Was this some sort of consequence of dying? It felt like it. But then, what could be worse than death itself? This, clearly. Being thrown into the throes of agony without anyone there to help.

She tried to claw at the ground of the submarine, to pull herself forward and out, but to no avail. The smooth surface didn’t quite go well with getting purchase on the ground. Fuck. Fuck. She just had to get out of the damned submarine, and onto the path that would lead back to where she’d died. But, that much felt about impossible.

Waking from death felt akin to waking from a dream, in some odd sense. It wasn’t ever pleasant, frankly - it always ended in jolts of pain and fear that never quite seemed to go away. She thought she’d get used to it, eventually. Evidently not, sitting at.. hell, how many now? Four? It seemed as if the further they got, the more risky encounters they dealt with. At the very least, being able to meet right back at the docks helped, rather than making the trek all the way back on her own.

This time, however, waking on the familiar cold surface of the submarine felt different. Maybe it was just how hot she felt. Or maybe it was the vague feeling of something dripping down her face. Or, perhaps it was how strange her own fingers felt, braced against the cool steel of the flooring.

She grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, sitting upright. Her head hurt, but that was more so a familiar feeling. A hand lifted ever so slightly, only for her to pause. Her hand- why did it look off? Those were claws. Those weren’t familiar. Was it some sort of sick, twisted dream? It felt like it. Oh, god - where was pAInter? To have any confirmation of it being her imagination.. it felt like a necessity. Or perhaps her worst fear would be confirmed instead.

// timeskiparoni

He couldn't help but wander a bit aimlessly. How the hell did he lose her? She wasn't that easy to miss, after all. Well, not in the typical way, but he knew what she looked like. She was the only expendable to not lose their shit at the sight of him or think he was a distant beacon of some kind.

Ironic, since that was how it started.

Back to plodding along and retreading his steps, it seemed. He couldn't help but worry a little, sure she wouldn't stay dead if she was, but finding someone's corpse? Not pleasant, even if he'd probably end up eating it.

Ah. That's that, then. The familiar sight of blood and violence. A grimace crosses his face and he manages to drag it away. He'd have to--if nothing else to spare her the sight... pAInter looks back at it, hoping she'll take some time to come back. He doesn't want her to catch him in the midst of it.

[the-expendable]

Everything in her body felt unpleasant, a twisting sort of feeling in her stomach that had her wanting to heave. She flexed her fingers, a brief sort of thing. She could feel the way the claws pricked against the palm of her hand as she curled them inwards, the aching heat in her body certainly not helping matters. And the warmth at her face, that liquid- trying to wipe it away resulted in the sight of a crimson red. Blood. Was it—? Oh. A nosebleed.

She moved to try and stand, to try and get moving to find the one friend she had made in the damned place, only to find herself collapsing in the process. The cool steel didn’t make for a comfortable landing, either. She grimaced, about wanting to writhe in pain with how badly her body hurt. It had never been this bad. Why was it so bad? It felt like dying all over again, if it were possible.

Waking from death felt akin to waking from a dream, in some odd sense. It wasn’t ever pleasant, frankly - it always ended in jolts of pain and fear that never quite seemed to go away. She thought she’d get used to it, eventually. Evidently not, sitting at.. hell, how many now? Four? It seemed as if the further they got, the more risky encounters they dealt with. At the very least, being able to meet right back at the docks helped, rather than making the trek all the way back on her own.

This time, however, waking on the familiar cold surface of the submarine felt different. Maybe it was just how hot she felt. Or maybe it was the vague feeling of something dripping down her face. Or, perhaps it was how strange her own fingers felt, braced against the cool steel of the flooring.

She grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, sitting upright. Her head hurt, but that was more so a familiar feeling. A hand lifted ever so slightly, only for her to pause. Her hand- why did it look off? Those were claws. Those weren’t familiar. Was it some sort of sick, twisted dream? It felt like it. Oh, god - where was pAInter? To have any confirmation of it being her imagination.. it felt like a necessity. Or perhaps her worst fear would be confirmed instead.

// timeskiparoni

He couldn't help but wander a bit aimlessly. How the hell did he lose her? She wasn't that easy to miss, after all. Well, not in the typical way, but he knew what she looked like. She was the only expendable to not lose their shit at the sight of him or think he was a distant beacon of some kind.

Ironic, since that was how it started.

Back to plodding along and retreading his steps, it seemed. He couldn't help but worry a little, sure she wouldn't stay dead if she was, but finding someone's corpse? Not pleasant, even if he'd probably end up eating it.

Ah. That's that, then. The familiar sight of blood and violence. A grimace crosses his face and he manages to drag it away. He'd have to--if nothing else to spare her the sight... pAInter looks back at it, hoping she'll take some time to come back. He doesn't want her to catch him in the midst of it.

[the-expendable]

Kari fell silent for another long moment, just.. thinking. Finally, she shifted to rise to her feet once more, glancing towards the door ahead. “Look, I’ll — I’ll go on ahead, and when you’re ready, you can catch up.” She offered. “How’s that?” Maybe some sort of alone time would help. Maybe.

@ask-painter

“Mm.. I feel like they’re not very sentient? I mean, rushing through a room while screeching doesn’t seem very ‘sentient-like.’ They feel more like wild animals, if anything.” And maybe they were, to some extent. Granted, very horrid wild animals. She didn’t even want to begin to think about Pandemonium and the potential sentience behind it. Frankly, she doubted there was any. “That’s, um.. good, though. That you have another person.” She cracked a small smile - a sad sort of thing. “I can’t blame him for not showing you the file. I’ve seen some of them. They’re not exactly all that nice to read - Urbanshade’s not nice when describing any Z-Classes.”

And, speak of the devils.. the lights flickered. It was a brief sort of thing, but something that she knew all too well. She let her gaze skim the room, only to feel her heart drop. Not a single locker in the damned room.

The silence that followed was unnerving. Far too long to be any normal angler. But then, that only left one other. She swallowed thickly, trying to look ahead to the next room. Alas, with the door shut with no-one being close to it, it was hard to tell what gamble she’d be making on trying to find some sort of locker or hiding spot.

“I think..” She began, finding herself stepping closer to the other. Anything to have herself less out in the open. “That’s not one of the normal anglers.”

[the-expendable]

Oh, goodness. They’d escaped the risk of death, only to be thrown into sorrows. They couldn’t catch a break, could they? Kneeling down carefully, she cleared her throat. “Look, I.. appreciate you doing it. I do, really. I just - please, don’t do that again?” Meek words this time around, tone far softer than before.

Death wasn’t anything she wanted to succumb to again. Not one bit. But.. in the place of someone who’s death would be permanent? It felt like something of a worthy sacrifice.

@ask-painter

“Mm.. I feel like they’re not very sentient? I mean, rushing through a room while screeching doesn’t seem very ‘sentient-like.’ They feel more like wild animals, if anything.” And maybe they were, to some extent. Granted, very horrid wild animals. She didn’t even want to begin to think about Pandemonium and the potential sentience behind it. Frankly, she doubted there was any. “That’s, um.. good, though. That you have another person.” She cracked a small smile - a sad sort of thing. “I can’t blame him for not showing you the file. I’ve seen some of them. They’re not exactly all that nice to read - Urbanshade’s not nice when describing any Z-Classes.”

And, speak of the devils.. the lights flickered. It was a brief sort of thing, but something that she knew all too well. She let her gaze skim the room, only to feel her heart drop. Not a single locker in the damned room.

The silence that followed was unnerving. Far too long to be any normal angler. But then, that only left one other. She swallowed thickly, trying to look ahead to the next room. Alas, with the door shut with no-one being close to it, it was hard to tell what gamble she’d be making on trying to find some sort of locker or hiding spot.

“I think..” She began, finding herself stepping closer to the other. Anything to have herself less out in the open. “That’s not one of the normal anglers.”

[the-expendable]

The other yelling certainly had caught her off guard, with her wincing the tiniest bit. But, she had fallen silent for a long moment after, only able to stand and stare at the other with wide eyes. Swallowing thickly, she placed a hand to her arm.

“..I’m sorry.” She finally managed. “I just - I don’t want to lose the only ally I have in this place.” The words were more carefully spoken, with her watching the other with a small frown. “You don’t get a second chance if you.. die. I do. I should be the one taking risks like that. Not.. you.”

@ask-painter

“Mm.. I feel like they’re not very sentient? I mean, rushing through a room while screeching doesn’t seem very ‘sentient-like.’ They feel more like wild animals, if anything.” And maybe they were, to some extent. Granted, very horrid wild animals. She didn’t even want to begin to think about Pandemonium and the potential sentience behind it. Frankly, she doubted there was any. “That’s, um.. good, though. That you have another person.” She cracked a small smile - a sad sort of thing. “I can’t blame him for not showing you the file. I’ve seen some of them. They’re not exactly all that nice to read - Urbanshade’s not nice when describing any Z-Classes.”

And, speak of the devils.. the lights flickered. It was a brief sort of thing, but something that she knew all too well. She let her gaze skim the room, only to feel her heart drop. Not a single locker in the damned room.

The silence that followed was unnerving. Far too long to be any normal angler. But then, that only left one other. She swallowed thickly, trying to look ahead to the next room. Alas, with the door shut with no-one being close to it, it was hard to tell what gamble she’d be making on trying to find some sort of locker or hiding spot.

“I think..” She began, finding herself stepping closer to the other. Anything to have herself less out in the open. “That’s not one of the normal anglers.”

[the-expendable]

“I don’t —“ Even if he was right, even if he had no threat against his life in the first place.. it was hard not to feel horrid. To think that, if not for Pandemonium’s preference, the other could’ve been attacked. With how feral Pandemonium was, too? She doubted it would have gone well.

“You wanted to protect someone that would’ve come back if they’d died. Someone that you killed hours ago.” Brutally honest words. “Why? Why did you try throwing your life away? What if it went after non-organic things, too?”

@ask-painter

“Mm.. I feel like they’re not very sentient? I mean, rushing through a room while screeching doesn’t seem very ‘sentient-like.’ They feel more like wild animals, if anything.” And maybe they were, to some extent. Granted, very horrid wild animals. She didn’t even want to begin to think about Pandemonium and the potential sentience behind it. Frankly, she doubted there was any. “That’s, um.. good, though. That you have another person.” She cracked a small smile - a sad sort of thing. “I can’t blame him for not showing you the file. I’ve seen some of them. They’re not exactly all that nice to read - Urbanshade’s not nice when describing any Z-Classes.”

And, speak of the devils.. the lights flickered. It was a brief sort of thing, but something that she knew all too well. She let her gaze skim the room, only to feel her heart drop. Not a single locker in the damned room.

The silence that followed was unnerving. Far too long to be any normal angler. But then, that only left one other. She swallowed thickly, trying to look ahead to the next room. Alas, with the door shut with no-one being close to it, it was hard to tell what gamble she’d be making on trying to find some sort of locker or hiding spot.

“I think..” She began, finding herself stepping closer to the other. Anything to have herself less out in the open. “That’s not one of the normal anglers.”