Round 2, continued
Otter made it to the basement. Bukowski shoved his lanky body off the counter and made for the closed door on the kitchen's south wall. He stood there a moment, listening.
"It's quiet. What's through here?" He looked at Cyril for a response.
In the fellowship hall, Garvey backed five feet away from Feral (to AC24), then fired point blank. She
missed. She kept the gun trained on Feral.
"How's it hanging, Fiona?" Garvey kicked off her heels. She was much shorter without them. Diminutive, even. Garvey grinned. Her mouth went stiff--a rictus of horror. Feral, T-dawg, and J.R. watched as Garvey shook out her hair. Only her auburn tresses weren't
hair anymore, they were
vipers. And the vipers came to life, hissing, spitting, and moving of their own accord. Garvey's skin thickened and hardened, ugly pits, ridges, scars and cracks mapping its surface. Her chest deflated. Her toes became clawed horrors, as did the fingers holding the Glock. The Bryn Mawr bitchy beauty was no more; what stood before Feral and T-dawg in the fellowship hall was inhuman.
OOC:
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Feral's up, [MENTION=6755061]Kiraya_TiDrekan[/MENTION].
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Initiative:
J.R. 12 -- hallway
Cyril 12 -- kitchen
Otter 12 -- basement
Bukowski 10 -- kitchen
Garvey 9 -- fellowship hall
Feral 8 -- fellowship hall
T-dawg 7 -- fellowship hall
Keihn 4 -- paralyzed through Round 3
Marks 1 -- storage/serving
GM: | Bukowski 42/42
Garvey unknown
Keihn unknown
Marks 16/18 | |