04-07-2020, 05:49 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-14-2020, 10:18 PM by skinstealer.)
You don’t have much time to multitask here, not wanting to take your eyes off Dad for a second.
VOIDSY: Can you get Dana in here, Miller? Her ability could come in really handy right about now…
MILLER: On it, but...please be careful, she’s really fragile!
VOIDSY: One other thing-
MILLER: Void, no offense, but this is really hard to all keep track of-
VOIDSY: I know, I know, just one thing- we might be able to squeeze Seaspray through the bag of holding. They’re an octopus, after all.
MILLER: Okay, we’ll try…
VOIDSY: And can you send the vials thr-
MILLER: Void!!!
VOIDSY: Okay okay! Okay! Gonna get back to it now, jeez…
MILLER: On it, but...please be careful, she’s really fragile!
VOIDSY: One other thing-
MILLER: Void, no offense, but this is really hard to all keep track of-
VOIDSY: I know, I know, just one thing- we might be able to squeeze Seaspray through the bag of holding. They’re an octopus, after all.
MILLER: Okay, we’ll try…
VOIDSY: And can you send the vials thr-
MILLER: Void!!!
VOIDSY: Okay okay! Okay! Gonna get back to it now, jeez…
Dana rushes out to help Dad, trying not to get caught underneath Writhe- what’s the situation? Dad’s immediately grateful for the help, saying that Writhe, that’s the cage type here, could really use some destressing right now. Writhe just makes another strained whisper, no actual words this time.
What about the burn type currently freaking out in front of them, Dana asks. He seemed like he could use help even more, to be honest...Dad assures her that she’s got it under control, and can handle this sort of thing with her FATHERLY AUTHORITY ability after they get Writhe handled. Easy peasy.
Well...if Dad’s sure. Dana waves at Writhe, catching its attention- does it want to see something nice, something new? The cage type makes the closest noise to a sniffle it can manage, getting out a tiny yes. The heartsea type clasps her hands together and does a little twirl, opening them again to reveal a small flower.
Writhe lets out a gasp as it reaches out for it, but finds itself unable to really turn its body and get a proper grip on it in such a tight space. Dana gives it a little pat, jumping up to place the flower inside of its cage. It’ll help it feel better, she promises.
Sure enough, the flower seems to have a calming effect, Writhe’s grinding sounds quieting down. Dana makes another flower and does the same as before, trying to keep her tone light as she talks. It was all going to be alright, and these flowers will help it relax, just like that…Dad waits for Writhe to go quiet, trying not to think about the burbling groans behind her. She really needs to know about Spit’s last TCP, the only one they haven’t seen-
Raw doesn’t give any warning before wrestling off the horror syringe pack, rushing forward and pinning Dad to the ground. Dad thrashes, feeling an uncomfortable heat emanating from his hands. Dana panics and hides behind Writhe’s leg, the cage type itself looking a lot less calm after Raw’s outburst.
Raw demands to know what the hell Dad thinks she’s doing, asking about that! She thinks she can just come in and mess with their heads, make them think all of these things that they can’t understand? Take their mother away from them? He could kill her, right now, and she’d be too small to stop him-!
Dad places a hand on Raw’s telling him to back off, slowly. She isn’t here to start a fight, but she’ll throw down if he keeps pushing, and she doesn’t want that. No one here wants that. Nobody wants any blood to be shed here.
Raw releases Dad enough for her to get into a sitting position, the fatherly TCP trying to get a grip on herself now that the horrible heat’s gone. She tries to keep momentum, saying that she’d honestly like to be friends-
Raw grabs Dad by the throat, holding her up high and ripping her gun off her back, sending it clattering to the ground.
Why would he ever be friends with someone who came into their home and put all this stuff in their heads? Why would he want to be friends with someone who told him that he was some...some kind of hostage, and that his mother was horrible?
Dad manages to squeak out that she didn’t say any of that, that it was the skills she taught, the knowledge of, what was it, Stockholm Syndrome?, sinking in- if Raw came to the conclusion that that’s what was happening to him, that wasn’t on her!
Raw squeezes, Dad crying out as the heat around her neck intensifies.
He could burn her to a crisp right now, and get past Writhe, and then everything would be back to normal.