12421/15 Fears: Hive
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| 15 Fears: Hive | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 13 August 2022 |
| Location: | Mercy's Garage |
| Synopsis: | Mercy is visited by a creature that can best be described as a Flesh Hive for maggot larvae. CW: Trypophobia, bugs. |
| Cast of Characters: | Chas Chandler, Mercy Thompson
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- Chas Chandler has posed:
It's after hours at Mercy's Garage. Despite that, there is a customer in the lobby of the office area. A single figure stands there. It's vaguely feminine in shape, subtle curves emphaizing its chest and hips even through the heavy brown longcoat it wears. There is a flash of red under the longcoat, maybe a red dress. The figure's hair is black and stringy, masking most of her face save for a pair of striking green eyes against alabaster skin.
She reaches up and rings the bell on the counter for service. How she got in isn't readily apparent, the door is locked, the lights are off, and yet... she stands there, ringing the service bell with stiff jerky motions. There are also no new cars in the parking lot to give evidence of -why- she's at the Garage. And yet... there she is.
- Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy's been putting in a fair bit of extra hours over the last month on her project car. She's inspired and really trying to make something special. She was sure she closed and locked the door though. So when she pauses in reaching for a different sized tool, cursing under her breath about lazy people who use the wrong size bolts, she notices the woman. Mercy thinks she must really be into her work if she didn't even smell the woman's arrival. Nor hear it.
Not sure what is going on, but knowing some bad mojo has been going on she casually sets the ratchet she was using down and picks up a heavy spanner to have ready. "Sorry miss. But it's after hours," Mercy's voice coming from the garage as she walks a little closer to the doorway. She's fast but she knows she isn't the fastest one around.
- Chas Chandler has posed:
The smell as Mercy approaches is... terrible. It's the smell of rot. Of decomposing flesh. Of something dead that just doesn't know it. The woman turns her green eyes on Mercy and a smile splits her face. "Dark Justice. Velvet Room." The smile widens and her alabaster skin splits to reveal the black necrotized flesh under it as holes start appearing over her face, holes that shift and pucker as someting small and silvery wriggles and falls out onto the floor of Mercy's office before starting to squirm toward the shapeshifting demigod.
The woman reaches up and slips the long coat from her shoulders. Letting it fall. Her red dress a strappy number that leaves her arms bare. It's stained and in tatters though, revelaing more alabaster flesh that's pocked with more scabs and holes that wriggle and release those squirming bugs that inch their way toward Mercy with deceptive speed.
"We come for the Justice League Dark. We come for you..." the creature, for it being a woman is a far cry at this point, says in a slow antagonistic hiss.
- Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy manages to not gag on the scent, yet there is no doubt the hairs on her neck are raised. She notes the green eyes but makes a point NOT to make eye contact. It takes practice to stare at someone's nose or chin and avoid the direct eye contact most people try to make, even if it's just a challenging thing in body language.
Then her garage, her sanctuary, becomes bug city. "Oh hell no." The spanner is thrown with all her might, not at the head, no she throws it for the shins and legs. That can hurt more and maybe squish some of whatever is crawling out of the woman.
Mercy is not too brave to run, and she can run fast! She can run faster as a coyote but she's not ready to do that yet. For one thing her keys are not on her. She bolts for the door that is near the garage bays to try and get out an away. "My place isn't the roach motel," she wishes her voice didn't sound quiet so panicked so she'd look more bad ass.
- Chas Chandler has posed:
There is a wet crunch as the spanner strikes the creature and she falls with a sound akin to wet mud hitting pavement. As Mercy exits and heads for the garage bay doors she sees more of them. Squirming, wriggling, worm-like creatures that continue to move toward her with deceptive speed. They're everywhere. Outside seems hold no avenue of safety.
There is a squishing sound like wet pasta being stirred in a bowl and the voice of the woman comes from behind her. "Velvet Room. We come for the well..." she hisses out as more and more of the wormy creatures spill from her. "But now, we come for you... Do you hear the song?" she asks, her body a writing mass of pulsing holes and writhing flesh. "If you don't, we will let you hear it soon enough..."
- Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy's shoes skid a bit to a halt. This place is getting fumigated. Five times. In a row! She easily springs up on a table as a hand snatches up the compressed air hose for pneumatic tools and starts to squeeze the safety lever on the top so it pumps out focused air. This is just a stalling tactic as she thinks of other ways to get out.
"No idea what you are talking about and I'm sure as hell not letting you or any of your creepy crawly bits into any room you aren't already in."
Just for a moment Mercy gets a terrible idea. The bugs are trying to keep her in, but maybe she can trick them by running AT the bug lady mass and goes FAST enough she can get out. Mercy's attention seems to focus on the 'back door bugs' to blast the with air so Miss Gross in the red dress won't get wise to any idea. Oh this is going to suck!
- Chas Chandler has posed:
Mercy's air trick does keep the bugs at bay, but it's a stalling tactic at best. There are just so many of the creatures and more continue to appear. A few even show remarkable strength as they jump, easily six feet in the air toward Mercy's face.
"We will give... all of you... the song" the woman hisses as more and more worms fall out of her onto the floor of the garage. "All shall join the chorus of the song..." she says deleriously before moving toward Mercy, her hands contorted into grabbing claws for the godling.
- Mercy Thompson has posed:
HOW is this woman not empty yet? HOW?! When they start jumping that is Mercy's signal. Pivoting fast as she can she gives a sweep of air into the air to clear her path toward the advancing woman. She remember her combat training and hopes this will work. Soon as Mercy's feet hit the ground she tries to not think what that 'crunch' is and pours on the the speed. Going right toward the woman, eyes on the chest and hips of her as if she means to fight her. Then launching herself at the woman's shoulders and upper body. The plan is to use momentum to knock bug lady into the counter behind her as Mercy rolls. Only that doesn't work. Instead she hits something that reminds her of wet cereal stuffed inside a parka. The sound is gross and there's no support. Mercy has to scramble to complete her roll. Thank god for martial arts training.
She just manages to get her feet tucked and under her as she clears the counter. "Please work," prays Mercy as she torpedo launches herself for the largest of the windows to her shop. Shifting midair to a Coyote that is balled up in mechanic's coveralls and clothes. Curling up to be as much a thirty five pound bullet to smash through her window. IF this works she'll worry about untangling her cloths and getting away then. First things first.
- Chas Chandler has posed:
The woman just crumples at Mercy's tackle, her flesh parting and giving way with ease as the rest of her form melts into a puddle of writhing, crawling, and wriggling worm-like creatures. More and more of the worms chase after Mercy, but her size is an advantage, and even as more jump at her she vaults the counter and goes through the window in a cascade of broken glass.
There is a sickening wet crunch under her as she rolls along the ground but it's enough to get her clear of the worst of the sentient hive and free to find shelter and assistance with her little bug problem.
- Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy is just thinking, get away get away get away! She kicks and twists to get out of her clothes as her claws scrape and scratch. Soon as she is free she pours on the speed. Daring to get hit in traffic if need be as she only wants to get out of here. The nearest help she KNOWS is near Central Park and will have to use the phone. And some clothes to borrow. For now she's just a streak of fur as she pours on her speed. She may run to Queens before she slows down honestly!
