CB's Grim Frequencies IC -- COMPLETE

Feeling their relationship had already soured enough, Cyril did what he could to salvage it. Taking on a conciliatory tone, he said, "Sorry Marks, we didn't really know what to do... Two kids tried to break in to Jump Street, apparently to steal stuff. One of the kids must have run away. Hey, look on the bright side, at least we didn't shoot them, hardened criminals that we are."

Hoping to improve Marks mood, he finished, "She doesn't know what the deal is though, our cover might be intact, although we seem to be some pretty well-armed contractors."
 

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Marks scrubbed at his hair. He looked tired. And frustrated. He frowned, more at himself than at T-dawg. "No, sorry, Thomas. I haven't slept well, Garvey's coming in three--no, two days--and last time I called her she reamed me for a solid forty minutes on the phone. S'not your fault." Marks paused. "Well, okay, it's totally your fault, but you're not to blame for Garvey's being a control freak. Look. Just get the girl out of here. Cyril's right, we're too well armed for a crew of subcontractors. Here, I'll give you something to give her. It's not a fix, but it'll juice her until she can get to a shelter. Or a hospital."

Marks left the kitchen for a few minutes then reappeared with a syringe filled with liquid. "B complex vitamins. She'll feel like princess peach in about thirty minutes." He put the syringe down on the kitchen table, then laid a packet of alcohol wipes next to it.




Feral walked Esmeralda to the bathroom and stood at the closed door. He could hear several bouts of retching. Esmeralda was vomiting, by the sound of it. And then the water turned on and was left to run for a good long four or five minutes. Still no sign of the girl, though. No one answered when Feral spoke at the door.
 



Feral opened the door to silence. The light was on and the water in the sink was running, but there was no Esmeralda. Feral was caught off guard when something from the ceiling snaked down and pummeled him across the back of the head. Whatever it was missed. Feral looked up at the ceiling and saw what might be a perverted version of Esmeralda. Where once there was a scrawny meth-addled heroin addict with auburn hair and an aura of innocence, now there was a tow-headed creature with red eyes, held in thrall by be-tentacled arms. The thrall opened its maw and hissed, then bunched itself in the far corner of the bathroom ceiling, its tentacles waggling protectively in the air. A craggy expanse of creamy white fangs lined the thrall's hissing maw.

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Credit: Jason Chan Art


OOC: ROLL INITIATIVE, ALL OF YOU!
 


OOC: Man, I just knew she was going to turn into a monster. Welp, reacting to this should be super fun!


OOC: Initiative: [roll0]


Cyril thought he heard something thump from the direction of the bathroom. Glancing over at T-Dawg, he said, "Doesn't sound like she could handle the grits. Must have been the hot sauce... should have gone with Tobasco."
 


"Thanks boss, I'll give it to her and then drop her off at some kind of shelter or somethin'", replies T-dawg, scooping up the syringe and tucking it into the waistband of his boxer shorts.

OOC: Initiative: [roll0]


"Huh, maybe. Looks like Feral and JR will be lookin' after that", he replies to Cyril, a broad conspiratorial grin splitting his face.
 

OOC: Initiative Roll: [roll0]


J.R. was closer to the bathroom than the others when he heard the scream. He instinctively grabbed his gun from the pit of his back and ran towards the source of the scream.
 

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