12405/A New You: The Weight of a Body

A New You: The Weight of a Body
Date of Scene:	09 August 2022
Location:	Lydia's Apartment
Synopsis:	Rien, Cael, and Chas infiltrate Lydia's apartment to find what she's done to Jon. With Rien's help the Archivist is able to return his body to some semblance of normalcy but the scars of what was done still remain.
Cast of Characters:	Chas Chandler, Cael Becker, Rien D'Arqueness, Jonathan Sims

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Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas stands outside of the apartment building where Lydia Dietrich lives across the street from their stakeout position. He withdraws an honest to goodness pocketwatch from his pocket and snaps it open. "It's been a touch over a hour," he says, pushing off from his post and looking to Cael and Rien. "I think it's safe to say he met trouble."

    He stops on Rien's face. "Think you can plant us outside the apartment? Just in case she's got wards up against magical intrusion. I'd rather not walk into a conflagration if we don't have to. You and I might be fine, but..." he glances to Cael.

Cael Becker has posed:
    To say that Cael is anxious is an understatement - she's acutely aware of every passing moment, especially as they approach the one hour mark, and she's barely resisting the urge to fire off a series of anxious texts. Why wouldn't they have hit the panic button? But why wouldn't they have contacted them within the hour as promised? Had //Jon// simply lost track of the time? ...she doubts it.
    She shoves her phone into her pocket, pulling out one of her pistols instead, keeping it pointed down towards the ground as she gives Rien a nod to signal her readiness. "You bring us there, Chas pops the door... We go in," she says in a simple, matter of fact tone that somehow hides her roiling anxiety.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien has been pacing, prowling like a very large, very French, cat, occasionally throwing glances towards the apartment where Jon went to talk to Lydia. The pacing didn't pick up until the last ten minutes or so, but the tension has been there the entire time. It's now palpable, coming off her in waves as she moves back and forth.

Chas' announcement that it's time to go in has her halting and giving a nod. Lifting one hand towards the apartment building, as if reaching towards something that she then grabs onto and /pulls/. The trio 'pop!' from their place outside only to reappear a moment later in front of the door. She does a quick scan of the door for any magical booby traps, and presuming none are found, steps back and motions for Chas to destroy the door. Unless he feels like Kool-Aid Manning it!

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The door, it turns out, is unlocked, and Chas is able to easily swing it open. There's no immediately obvious answer as to why Jon hasn't contacted them one way or another. No obvious signs of a struggle, aside from a knocked-over chair at the dining room table. No sign of Lydia, either. And at first, no sign of Jon.

    But there's /something/ on the couch. Something that looks like--a bird? A very large bird with blue-black feathers. A /humanoid/ bird, with wings instead of arms, and hair, and clothing. Jon's clothing. It looks like Jon has been changed into a... harpy? Essentially, yes, down to the tail and breasts and longer hair. He's just kind of... lying there, staring at the ceiling, brow faintly furrowed. He's been crying. Aside from the changes, though, he looks unharmed. No blood or anything.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas blinks at the ease of the entrance and the lack of what they are looking for before his eyes fall on the harpy-Jon. "Mother of..." he breathes out before stepping clear of the door. "Rien, Cael, see to them. I'll check the rest of the place, just to be safe."

    He moves deeper into the apartment, the blue firey glow surrounding his form between one step and the next. It wouldn't take a telepath to see he's seething as he moves down the hall towards Lydia's bedroom and bathroom.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Oh God... Jon." Nothing would keep Cael from hurrying to Jon's side the moment she lays eyes on their features, though she does flicker her gaze around the apartment, checking for any signs of further trouble. She trusts Chas and Rien to have her back, though, as she slips her gun back into its holster, and wraps her arms tightly around them. "Love... we're here. We've got you," she promises softly.
    It doesn't //feel// like Jon she has in her arms - from the strange, wing-like appendages, to the breasts that press in against her as she pulls them in close - but it's Jon's face, and their scent. She focuses on that.
    "We're here," she repeats quietly.
    That... bitch. That fucking bitch.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
RIen enters last, still looking around with the extended senses, sniffing at the air, listening, and letting magic sight tell her any tales of magic to be found in the apartment. So she doesn't actually see Jon at first, at least, not in the usual sense. They still /smell/ like Jon, after all. But once no immeidate threats are ascertained, RIen blinks and looks towards where Cael is hugging a... harpy? that smells like Jon. And has Jon's face.

She approaches slowly, sighing, "Oh Jon... this is exactly what I was afraid of..." No recriminations, or 'I told you so', not yet anyways. First things first is getting Jon back to being, well, Jon. Rien doesn't quite touch Cael's shoulder but murmur, "Cael... Cael I need you to step back while I assess this and see what I can do to fix it. You can stand right there, but I need to see it all."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I tried to fight her," Jon murmurs as Cael gathers them up in her arms. The paddles Lydia created instead of hands don't have fingers, so they can't reach up and grasp at their girlfriend's clothing; instead they just kind of scrabble uselessly. "But she just... undid everything I created. And her mind was full of meat. And--" They stop, and sniffle, and bury their face in Cael's shirt.

    Rien's words make him stiffen, recriminations or no, but he doesn't respond. He also shows no inclination to move away from Cael.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas nudges open the bathroom, checks in the shower and under the sink (just in case) before moving to the bedroom. He can smell the same corrupted scent he's pegged for Viscera throughout the house but it's fading qquickly. He knows she's not here anymore, maybe never again, cutting her losses after doing what she did to Jon. He doesn't want to think too hard on that right now though. Closets checked and still nothing. He stops at the laundry closet and gives it a once over as well (again, just in case) before he makes it back to the living room.

    "She's not here" he says darkly. "Must've changed her appearance before fleeing the building." He gives Jon a grave look and sighs. "It's going to be alright. Rien will make sure you're back in the shape you are used to." He looks to the woman and asks, "Is there anything we can do to help?" Not that he has any experience working with what has been to Jon, but he's a quick study and maybe he can just give Rien some energy to help undo whatever the Old One helped her do. Maybe.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Nor does Cael seem to have any inclination to let go - with Jon holding to her so tightly. "I've got you," she reassures Jon. "When you're ready... Rien'll see if there's anything she can do to help, alright?"
    Her own fingers tighten on Jon's ruined shirt, as she struggles to push down the anger she feels rising up in her. There will be time for anger later - right now, Jon needs her, and that's what she needs to concentrate on. Jon has been hurt - and she has to be //here.// "I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere. Alright? This isn't your fault, and we're going to figure it out."
    There's a momentary pause before Cael asks Chas and Rien, without turning towards either of them, "Can we track her?"

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien frowns faintly as she looks over Jon's form, peering beneath the mundane and into the magical. She lifts a hand to forestall Chas and shakes her head lightly with a faint frown marring her features. "This... this isn't a matter of healing. Or even transforming. Or reversal. Jon... Jon should be able to overcome it, but it will take time and effort."

Swinging her hand back towards Jon, she traces in the air over their form, "She didn't just shape their form.. she... godsDAMMIT Lydia... she's locked it into place with threads of Old Ones energy." Rien lets out a short huff of breath, "Either Chas or I /could/ break it, but it would be.. unnecessarily invasive. Jon can do it themselves, they just... have to be in the right frame of mind for it."

Her eyes shift back to Jon's face, "Jon. Can she still be saved? Truthfully. We need to know what we're going to be preparing for. Can Lydia be saved?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's murmuring under his breath, and Cael at least can hear the 'five things you can see' and so on, stepping through grounding himself. 'Oh, gods, feathers' is one of the things he can feel, but finally he manages to be coherent enough to pull back from Cael a little and talk.

    "She had an amulet that she said would stop us from tracking her. Doesn't mean she's right. She went out the door, so maybe we can follow scent or something. I don't know."

    They glance away from Rien, then, and say, "That's not my decision." Their voice is quiet, but firm. "I didn't take a statement, and I'm not going to until things are settled out. This isn't mine to judge."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas blinks and frowns at Jon. "But... it is, isn't it?" he asks. "She's lumped herself in with the very thing you're supposed to be able to judge. The Old Ones aren't mortal Jon. If she's allied herself with them..." He shakes his head. He can't see the threads that are holding the harpy-like form in place but the external scent of the abilities that are linked to the Old Ones is there like a miasma surrounding and obscuring what he knows as his best mate.

    He shakes his head. "If it's not your place, then whose is it?" he asks. "We weren't victimized, I'd expect you'd want revenge at the very least. For what it's done to do. For what -she's- done to you."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "//Fuck// her," Cael says quietly but forcefully at Rien's question. If she would do this- do this to her //friend// - then who //wouldn't// she assault?
    At Jon's words, she pulls back just enough to see Jon's face, freeing one of her hands to run it gently over their cheek, before letting it rest their to lovingly cup their face. "I think... maybe, Jon would rather be impartial in their judgements?" she asks uncertainly.
    She knows what her own verdict would be - but that doubtlessly surprises no one.
    "...or," she corrects herself, "maybe Jon just doesn't want to remember- what happened from another perspective. You shouldn't have to," she promises softly. Her hand moves from Jon's cheek, to settle into their hair instead, providing that grounding she knows Jon finds so helpful in times of turmoil - as she gently massages their scalp.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Glancing to Chas, then Cael, Rien looks back to Jon. "I'm not asking for your judgment as an Avatar or Archivist. I'm asking your /opinion/ as the only person that's seen what she's become and has personally felt her ire." Whatever her personal feelings, she's determined not to make a snap judgment herself. She looks to Cael, "You have the luxury of saying 'fuck her'. But you wouldn't want us to make such a snap judgment of you when you first transformed into a werewolf. And I'm not going to give you special exception that doesn't apply to anyone else."

To the tracking, she quirks a smile, "Unless that amulet masks her very real, physical scent, I can still track her. It will take time to catch onto her scent and figure out her next moves. But it can be done. I'll call in Gabby and Laura to help if need be." Rien blows out a breath, "Does she have any other hideyholes in the city that we know of? Anywhere else she might go?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Chas has the answer--I'm a /victim/ now. I don't know whether or not she can be saved. I don't know how much of this is Lydia, and how much is her Predator, and how much is Viscera. And... and I don't /want/ to figure that out, right now. I don't want to track her down. I don't want to take revenge. I just want to fix my fucking hands." Jon's voice is tense, and shaking with anger.

    "I know I blame her for this. Even if the thing that did this to me isn't Lydia anymore--she removed her empathy, her compassion, and left us all with the Predator. Either she killed herself, back in the High Priestess door, or she /gave in/ to this thing, after she was /warned/. And I don't--right now I don't care how fucking /scared/ she was. Maybe I'll think differently, later, but right now... right now I am /not/ the person to ask about this. Alright? Because my opinion, right now, isn't going to be reasoned or... or particularly useful. I hurt, and I'm angry, and I just want to figure out how to hell to undo these... these Old One threads."

    They shake their head. "Sh-she... she just... I couldn't /move/. She stood there using that horrible voice, mad at me for 'harping on'... and that was /after/ she went on about how--" Another shake of the head, and they start staring at their hand. Well. The thing that should be a hand. Furrow their brow, like they're trying to see the threads Rien's talking about.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas puts up a hand. "Jon... I know it's hard but try to relax. What actually happened? What did she do?" he asks. "Maybe, if we get the whole picture, we can sort out our own opinion of her and go from there." He looks at Cael. "Those of us who haven't made up our mind, that is." He shakes his head at Rien. "Other than the place we looked at the other day, no. But that's a public venue in the middle of Bushwick. Can't very well go in guns blazing there, without hurting a whole lot of bystanders, which is probably exactly why she chose it."

    He turns back to Jon and kneels down so he's not towering over the man. "Start from the beginning, you came in her to see what's become of our friend... we were outside waiting to back you up if you weren't back out in an hour. Where did the plan go sideways?" he asks. He knows that being rational and reasonable isn't a true help, but maybe he can help his friend compartmentalize his feelings and focusing on the order of events can help parse it out. Maybe.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Two, very separate and very strong forces as suddenly warring in Cael's mind. The part of her that feels protective and possessive of Jon finds it hard to believe that Chas would ask that of Jon - here. //Now.// Isn't it obvious what happened?!
    But the question also prods that part of her that is still, essentially, a //cop// awake. Plenty of people are expected to retell the worst moments of their lives moments after it happens to the cops. The statement matters. The events, and the evidence, matter. It's //important.//
    Her teeth grit, as she pulls herself up to sit on the couch beside Jon, rather than crouching on the floor in front of them. She pulls Jon in against her chest, her fingers still massaging at their scalp as she murmurs reassuringly, "I'm right here with you, love. Alright, Mariposa?"

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Pausing to listen to Jon, to Chas, to give Cael time to resituate. She's glancing aorund the apartment again, probing deeper to see if there's traces of the Old Ones energy still lingering anywhere in the rooms. Anything that they can use, or that needs to be dealt with before they look for Lydia.

Looking back to Jon, she murmurs, "When you're ready, I can share my sight with you, then you can see what you're trying to undo. No real invasion on my part, you would be the one to see through /my/ eyes. It can be disorienting at first, but you could at least see what you're trying to undo."

With that offer made, she quiets down to hear what he has to say about how things went down in the apartment.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Chas and Rien both help--Chas' calm tone, Rien's offer to help him /see/. Because an eye cannot see inside itself, so Jon can't see his own aura, and it's bothering the /hell/ out of him right now. But also--Cael's fingers on his scalp. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, sighing.

    "She was defensive. Paranoid. I don't know if I believe anything she said--she was convinced everyone wanted to stop her, kill her. I don't know... she /said/ she's helping people, but does she even care anymore? I don't--know." He has to stop, for a moment, choke back a sob. Try to get through recounting. "She said--Chas would get violent, Rien hates her and wants to see her taken down a peg, Cael wanted to stake her the moment they met. And everyone else would follow the leadership. She seemed to think nobody ever questions my judgement." He sighs. "I don't--I genuinely don't know how much of that is anything Lydia really thinks, or thought, and how much is the vampire nature, and how much is the Old One. But /right now/ she presumes we're all out to get her. She was... unhinged, really. Making justifications. Excuses."

    Long, deep breath. "Then she... she lunged at me, and I wasn't--fast enough. I wasn't thinking about--at Arkham, dangerous patients were restrained. But even so, I shouldn't have been thinking like a doctor. And I didn't realize she could just... undo my constructs. I didn't realize just how much power Viscera had given her. Before I could get up a shield, she had me and I couldn't move. I tried to hit her with magic--I don't need to move or speak for that--and she just undid them before they touched her. I reached out to her telepathically and Viscera blocked me."

    A pause. "I figured, then... if I didn't fight back, maybe she'd at least let me live. So I stopped trying."

    "Then she... changed me into... /this/." They lift a wing and shake it. "Lectured me about being attached to the loss of my arm. About 'harping' on her. About... gods, I don't know. She kept talking to something. Viscera, I think. She's not right in the head, I know that much, but really /anyone/ who would do these things isn't right in the head. Sociopaths, psychopaths--they're ill. That doesn't mean we let them get away with hurting people."

    Finally they open their eyes. "The way the Fears work--they amplify what was already there, to some degree. The only way I can see for Lydia to be saved is for her to deal with whatever insecurities led her down this path. But that's on her, really."

    He looks to Rien. "What, umm... how do you share your sight with me?"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas listens intently to Jon, his eyes never moving from his friend. When he's done he nods. That settles it then, at least for him. He doesn't want to kill her, no, not yet at least. "Then that's that then..." he says moving to the desk. He peers down at the journals and notes for her opus and sighs. "She's knows better. She can be saved. But -she- has to make the effort. So the next step is... we pin her down long enough to get her to see."

    His words are hushed, muted. He's musing to himself more than anyone else in the room. That they might have to come back and collect all these things, to preserve them. To see that they get the treatment they deserve. It saddens him. But he hopes it won't come to it. Not if what he has in mind is even possible. He turns then and looks at Jon. "If you need to draw on what I am... don't hesitate. I will allow it freely."

    Another thing Chas has figured out, he can exist as a sort of mystical battery for certain entities to draw on, powering their own spells using a direct throughline to the Source. It's tiring, but he can recover from it easily enough.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael listens to the others speak in silence, still holding Jon close. If she didn't think Jon needed her... it would be hard to deter her from going after Lydia herself - right here, right now. "We let her live?" No - she doesn't sound satisfied by that decision. Nor does she, in the moment, seem swayed by Rien's assessment of her own situation from a few months earlier.
    She tries to put all that aside, though.
    "I'm staying right here," she reminds Jon - as they seem prepared to try to fix what was done to them. After all - it could be rather disorienting, seeing from someone else's eyes. "No matter how long it takes to figure this out. We will figure it out."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien blows out a breath at everything Jon relates to them. There's a part of her that /wants/ to point and say 'I told you so', that wants to remind Jon that she warned them of exactly this sort of possibility. The larger part, however, just wants to see Jon back to their usual self. So she smiles towards them and holds out a hand, "Initiate the touch, and I'll do the rest. You have to initiate though, because it has to be your choice."

She looks to Chas and lifts a brow, "I'll remember that for another time... with you being a battery and me being a conduit... we could channel some pretty powerful magic if we needed it." A brie fpause as she thinks it over, "We could generate some amazingly destructive /or/ creative magic. That has... hm. Something to look into later."

Turning back to Jon, she offers a soft smile, "Ready when you are."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Just because someone lives, doesn't mean they're off the hook," Jon says firmly. Then he looks to Chas. "What fix do you have for the fact that she--" He swallows. "She did something to herself. Psychically, mystically, I mean. She /removed/ her compassion, her empathy--she called it 'embracing the Predator,' but it looked like a psychic lobotomy to me, almost. I told you, remember? Do you have an idea to fix that?"

    He pulls away from Cael a little, to reach out his left wing, and touch the end to Rien's hand, simultaneously letting down the initial mental barriers he holds up. His mental shields are intricately layered, meant to slightly give against intrusion rather than hold fast--which makes them flexible rather than brittle. It's the reason his aura's so easy to read, while many attempts to break into his head further would probably not succeed.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas gives Rien a nod. Something to look into late for sure. But right now his focus is on Jon. He has an answer, but he needs to see if it's even possible first. Though, nothing wrong in at least allaying his friend's concerns. He takes a breath and nods. "I do. Actually, have an idea. It's... difficult to explain in the immediate but... it might do the trick."

    He frowns, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "I have to test something before I can be sure of it. But... I might be able to restore her to being what she was before she was turned. It's possible to purge her Beast entirely and restore her humanity. There are apocryphal works that state that even before the lowest of angels vampires feel..." His expression relaxes and when he speaks again his words are laced through with the divinity of his being. "Even among the lowest of the Hosts, the half-living feel the remorse of that which they have lost. The spark of life they have forgotten. The humanity that allows them to stand within the light."

    He closes his eyes and when they open once more they are again his own. "I might be able to make her human again and with that will come the guilt and pain she discarded when she allowed her Beast to take over. She wasn't a sociopath before she died, and this change was voluntary and spurred by her Beast allowing her. Get rid of the agent of change, get rid of the change entirely." He shrugs. "It might at least allow her to approach discarding Viscera with a clear mind. More than we can say for her right now."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "No, I suppose it doesn't," Cael agrees - but she still doesn't sound satisfied by this course of action. She //had// considered Rien a friend, though. ...hadn't she?
    It might be a little alarming to some how readily Cael seems willing to utterly forget that fact.
    She loosens her grip on Jon as they reach for Rien's hand, though she stays beside them on the couch - her gaze flicking towards Chas. A moment of discomfort shows as Chas's divinity comes to the fore - but the her primary expression is... confusion. "Make her human again? You mean- alive? Or- Or just restore her humanity, and her conscience?"

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
This connection will require Rien to drop her own guard, to let Jon into her head. She can try to keep his focus tunneled to her Sight, but when allowing access for some, it's difficult to keep all the other doors closed. Jon will almost certainly gain her sense of smell and hearing for the duration... and if he gets curious, he may even start getting memories or surface-level thoughts.

More to the point, he'll be able to See the threads of the Old Ones' energy that's locking his form into place... and the weak points that he can attack to unravel them. Rien herself, is effectively blind for the moment, but her smell and hearing more than make up for it. The blue of her eyes glows as she shares the sense with Jon, flicking this way and that at his discretion.

"I think he's talking about removing the vampirism entirely. Taking away the Beast, returning her to being... a mutant." Rien doesn't turn her head, but she motions towards Chas with one hand to indicate him. "Is that about the right of it?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Rien's eyes flick to Chas for a brief moment, the resonance in his voice and the light in his eyes distracting Jon for a moment. "I suppose that makes sense," they say, their own eyes fixed on Rien. It's a little disorientating at first; they lift their hand, peering at the motion. "That is... hmm." They clear their throat. "Alright."

    The threads through his aura, that odd pink, pulse softly to his eyes. "I could... hmm... pick them out? Like picking out embroidery? But... that would require someone else's hands. And that knot up at my shoulder... ugh." A pause. "Alright, I need a /hand/ first. All else flows from the hand, tool of human will. So."

    They focus on what should be their left hand with Rien's eyes, and try summoning sunlight, first. Soft and warm, it glows around the end of the wing but doesn't undo the problem. Jon bites their lip, and murmurs, "Hmm. Okay. Flesh, right? Blood, or nerves, or muscle fibers... it has to be running along /some/ kind of--oh. Oh, no, you're thinking about this the wrong way 'round, Sims. The hand is the tool--but the /heart/ is the source of the power. So. Start in the heart."

    And then it's easy--there's a glow from the center of their chest, as they draw on the power not of Ma'at but of Amon-Ra, youngest of the Elder Gods and more than a match for Viscera in power. Sunlight flows through their veins, carried on their blood, down to their hand. The Old One's power shrivels in the power of the sun, and then they /scream/ as the wing just... burns off, the end paddle suddenly separating into fingers, the feathers disappearing in a flash as if they'd never been.

    "Ow," they gasp, and lean into Cael. "This is going to take a bit."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas nods to Rien's assessment. "Correct. I return her to what she was before she was a vampire. Just Lydia Dietrich, mutant." He shrugs. "Or... it might completely destroy her. I'm not sure. It's not like I go around reversing vampiric curses left and right. I have better things to do with my time than that." He watches rugby and the Premier League.

    "I'm working with ancient tales and texts that are possibly entirely metaphor" he says. Then his gaze goes to Jon. He winces as his friend screams in agony as the sun's rays sear away feather and augmentated spirit flesh, reverting it to the original form Jon usually wears.

Cael Becker has posed:
    As they talk of returning Lydia to a human (or mutant) state - there's something decidedly unfriendly on Cael's expression - but it vanishes quickly enough, as her attention returns to Jon's current predicament.
    "Jon?" she asks - a little alarm in her voice as they scream in pain. "We're here, love," she says desperately. It feels like all she can say - she feels so //helpless// in the face of Jon's suffering, even as she knows this is what Jon needs. Jon just needs her to be there. She can't fix this for them, but they need her. "You can do this. I'm right here."
    As one hand returns to its natural form, she smiles - even as a few tears sneak out of her eyes. She twines her fingers into theirs, so she can squeeze firmly.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien falls quiet as Jon uses her eyes to start unravelling the hold of the Old Ones, focusing on trying to keep the rest of those mental walls up so he isn't being inundated with her... everything. She does reasonably well, though with him using her eyes, he'll get the full blast of her olfactory and auditory enhanced senses as well. This would be a good place for Chas and Cael to describe their scents! And the precise tone and timbre of their respective voices.

But when he sears away that first bit and his scream pierces her sensitive hearing, her wince is more than physical. It brings up a very potent memory for Rien... one that Jon gets to now be inflicted with. There's Rien, dressed in some very 60's clothes - faded bellbottom jeans, a belly-baring peasant blouse, feathers mingled into her hair from a leather headband, a short fringed nehru jacket, and a pair of sandals.

She walks through the deserts of Nevada, her skin in a constant state of healing as the exposure to the sun tries to burn it, parched throat that can't seem to kill her no matter how thirsty she gets. Empty belly that stopped grumbling days ago. And she finds what she's been looking for. A testing site. She slashes through the fencing with her claws and wanders towards the center of the site, closer to ground zero for the warhead to be tested. And she waits. Waits for the sirens that will announce the coming bomb.

When it comes, there's a sense of hope, of relief. Maybe she'll be able to die. Maybe this will be enough. The pain is similar to what Jon experiences. But she spares him the pain of the regrowth, of the healing, slamming the mental door shut as they lean into Cael.

"Okay.. brace for the next one... got it. Sorry Jon, I wasn't.. expecting that."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    So first off: Jon can smell /himself/, which is... weird. Parchment and binding glue, kyphi and curry, tobacco and scotch, a melange of the dogs and cat and Cael and a faint subtle scent of petrichor that lingers regardless of the weather. Hearing his own voice /isn't/ as weird, he's been recording himself speaking or singing for years, so there's his own voice, melodious and clear with an underlying smoky rough timbre, the pronunciation crisp. The accent that his husband once said sounded like he 'swallowed BBC One whole' has softened in his years in America, and despite being 'posh' to most others is, to himself, weirdly homey and comfortable.

    Then they scream, and then Rien's being blasted by nuclear radiation and--ow, ow, everything /hurts/--

    "That's the one I forgot," they murmur, half-dazed. "That's why there's fifteen. Can't remember the bloody name for the life of me, but--plastic and radiation and climate change. Terrible umbrellas." They shake their head, and focus on Cael's voice, squeeze Cael's hand.

    "Yeah," he says. "I wasn't expecting that either. His Actual Royal Godliness does /not/ like this, evidently." He takes a deep breath, sits up, and this time both summons the sunlight in their hand and pulses it down from their heart, into their leg. As they burn out the threads forcing their leg into the shape it's in, they run the healing light over their leg. It eases the pain, enough that they're able to get by with gritted teeth, this time. So now they're only half a harpy, and they start in on the other leg.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas' smell is peculiar to anyone who doesn't know he's an angel. The sharp tang of ozone, burnt noble gases, is most notable but under it the sweet but harsh burn of liquor. Not surprising given what he is these days, but a very distant trek from what he used to be. "You have the names of the others?" he asks, sounding surprised.

    His voice is an alien thing altogether. The soudns Jon usually hears, rough, accented, a bit of growl on every word is there sure, but there's another layer that only those with augmented hearing can pick up. An echo of what could be considered his 'native tongue.' Bells in a variety of tones and levels ring under every word. The tones are just out of the range of normal hearing, but augmented by Rien's mutation they come with every single word.

    "I... only put the nine I knew in the dossier I was planning out giving out," he says. "If you have four that we're missing I would very much like to know. When your able. No rush on it."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "If I could take some of this pain for you, love," Cael murmurs, as she squeezes Jon's hand back. There's a tenderness to Cael's usually gruff, no-nonsense tone that only Jon ever recieves from her, as she keeps an arm wrapped around their back, and under their arm supportively. She's there, if they needs to lean into her, or hold onto her - or even squeeze her painfully as the changes wrack through their body. And with that closeness, the familiar scents she carries - gun oil and gun powder, coffee, leather, and the ever-present scene of dog - with a hint of whiskey, possibly from the flask she frequently carries with her.
    "You've got this," she adds encouragingly.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
"The extinction... I remember it now... I tried to embrace it... back then.. back when they were testing for it. I wanted to die. I wanted... I thought it would be enough... that it would do the job.. but it didn't. I came back anyways." Rien murmurs as she stares blindly towards Jon, her head tilting just a touch in Chas' direction. She lets out a small sigh, "I'd forgotten it's presence.. it's been.. everywhere.. for a long time.. pervasive, quiet, but slowly taking over."

Rien doesn't actually move, so Jon can keep sight of themself as they work on freeing the threads of the Old Ones. She motions towards Chas, "There's... there's maybe another one.. maybe. It's still.. on the tip of my tongue." Her breath sighs out and she lifts a small shrug, not wanting to shake her head. "I would have to think about it."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon shakes his head as he works on the other leg. "No, no, it's--at the meeting, I laid out some of what I know we should be running into. Bugs, rot, death, darkness, heights, being hunted... I don't know how any of them fit together or in what way. There don't seem to be many fears of animals directly? No snakes or dogs, like that. Maybe that fits into one of the others. Does rot go with death or bugs? Or are those three different things? Anyway--I had forgotten all about the fear of... not of individual death but the death of the species. Nuclear war, climate change, asteroid strikes, alien invasions. And also things like... cyborgs, AI, grey goop taking over the world. Again, I don't know where it fits with what, but it's there."

    A glance to Chas. "I don't know the name. I don't know any of the other names. It's like... vague impressions."

    They work the sunlight through the rest of their body, getting rid of the tail and shortening the hair, removing the breasts, and finally the right wing--but they can't seem to get rid of the /arm/. It's like there's just a knot of Old One influence there, demanding the arm /stay/. There are still a couple of feathers holding on, too, particularly on the right side.

    Finally they grunt. "I'm giving up for now. I can walk, now. Maybe exposing the skin to the sun will help loosen Viscera's hold." They hunch their shoulders. "And anyway... I kind of just want to go home and curl up in the shower and cry."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "We'll go home together. I'll put in an order for kebabs... Agnes and I will make you some of her snickerdoodles," Cael offers, her single-minded focus still on Jon, rather than the talk of Fears. "And when you're up to it... I will destroy you at Dance Dance Revolution. Yeah?" Cael offers, giving Jon an encouraging smile.
    "And then. If you want..." She takes a deep breath out, and lets it out slowly, like she's making some great sacrifice, "I'll even read you a chapter out of a book, if you like."
    Watch Jon choose the longest chapter he can possibly find.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas nods to Jon and Rien's information. "I'll add a page to the dossier then" he says with a nod. "I should have it ready and put in the Velvet Room by this evening. I've a few more things to look up in the Library but most of the first few entries are done." He sighs and runs a hand through his short mussed hair.

    "We'll... table what to do about tracking down Lydia for now" he says nodding to Jon. "You focus on recovery. When we confront her I want us at our peak. Given what she's capable of now, I think we'll need it." He looks to Rien. "Is there anything here you need? Check a hairbrush for a hair sample or something?" he asks, not entirely understanding how the Howlett genes work.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Having gotten her eyesight back, Rien blinks a few times, then nods to Jon, "Sorry again about the, ah, trip down bad memory lane. One of these days we'll get around to that whole 'statement' thing and then you can get all the context surrounding it." She lets out a slow breath and glances around the apartment again, then shakes her head at Chas with a wry smile, "No Chas. I can pick up scents down to the molecular level just by standing here. I've had Lydia's scent since we walked in the apartment."

Looking back to Jon and Cael with a longsuffering expression, she waves a hand and opens a portal to the blacony of Jon's apartment, "For expediency. Try to relax, Jon. We'll sort this out." She looks back to Chas and huffs out a breath, "Some of us without making speciste commentary..."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Rather you sing to me," Jon murmurs. They are /definitely/ That Couple, but Jon doesn't really mind. He and Martin are /also/ That Couple. Really, Jon's That Guy. To his credit, he's pretty insufferably affectionate with his friends most of the time too. He's just... affectionate.

    "Thank you, Rien," he says, as he gets up with Cael's help. Still wobbly and weak--that took a /lot/ of power to make happen. "Chas, stop being an ass. Maybe you two try to at least get a lead on where she might have headed--but remember she can fly. You might need to cast a pretty wide net. I wouldn't wait too long."

    He shakes his head. "I'll recover as fast as I can manage. Can't let her be out there too long. She said she wouldn't do this to a human, but--who knows? And who knows what she's already done?" His shoulders slump again. He shakes his head again. Then he heads through the portal back home, to rest.