7/27 Instance: I'll Have The Soup

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Starfish
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7/27 Instance: I'll Have The Soup

Post by Starfish »

Timeline: Current.


Mick: Mick did not want to wake up. He felt heavy, and sore, like he'd been wrapped in cotton wool and then worked over with a pipe. And he couldn't move. Ugh...had he had one of his now-rare seizures? Groggily he tried to find a line, but...nothing. Nothing? There should at least be a satelite line...

Mick: He realised he was moving, and he could hear a squeaky trolley wheel. No, not a trolley...there was a damp, visceral smell to the place, one that unsettled him (he hadn't fallen asleep while playing Silent Hill in the DR with Danger again, had he? No, idiot) - enough that he finally opened his eyes...and instantly wished he hadn't. Oh god. Oh god - he was strapped to a gurney, and wheeled past damp walls. Oh fuck, it hadn't been a nightmare...

Mick: He started struggling as he was wheeled into a lab he was pretty sure wouldn't pass any hygiene tests. There were...caked splatters on the wall, piles of stinking, decaying and above all very biological matter on the floor and the entire place looked like pure nightmare fuel. He had a feeling it was going to be.

Rott: "Thank you, Bob," the lanky man in the filthy labcoat said once the creaking wheels of the gurney had come to a stop. "Now now, look at that - a new face today." As the guard who had pushed in the strapped down patient left, the doctor grabbed a clipboard from the nearby operation table. His bloodstained gloves left prints on the paper.

Rott: "Cormick Grimshaw... I think I'll just call you Micky." The doctor's face was concealed behind the surgical mask as he leaned over the young mutant to look down at him. "My name is Dr. Rott, and it's always exciting to meet a new patient."

Mick: "Nice. It's Mick." Mick stopped struggling for a moment to stare at the man. Patient? "Don' remember there being any appointments made. Care to loosen the straps a little, Rotty?" He had to get out of here. The guy was alone, he could deck him, find a line, port out...

Rott: "Oh, I could do that, but then you'd only try to escape and miss all the fun we're going to have together," Rott said, sounding quite gleeful at the prospect. "No, I think you're just fine where you are for the time being. After all, you've got a front row seat!"

Mick: "Hell yes I would, you're a fuckin' quack." Mick stopped struggling for now - no point wasting energy, he was pretty securely tied down. "This an opt-out procedure? Because no offence, Rotty darling, but this place is not inspirin' confidence." The sarcasm was pure nerves. He was trying hard not to panic - he'd been at Xavier's long enough to know how this shit went down.

Rott: "Why would you do that?" Rott asked, blinking down at his patient as he tilted his head and scratched the side of it through the surgical cap he was wearing. "I assure you the procedure is completely safe - only seventy-nine percent of patients experience severe side effects, and we pushed the mortality rate down to one in ten. Go science!"

Rott: "Besides, most of your friends already received my little gift," he added, holding up both hands as he shrugged. "Don't you want to be cool like them?"

Mick: Most of...oh hell. Jimmy, Jonas...Noriko, fuck, those screams had been them? "Somehow I don' think they asked for this shit, doc." He glared at him, while the panic crept a little higher. No, breathe, breathe, don't hyperventilate, he could...probably smell his fear or something. "What's this...gift?"

Rott: "Oh, I'm so glad you asked!" Rott closed both hands and shook them a little in excitement. "I've got yours right here!" The doctor turned towards his cluttered lab table. "Ah, here we go! No... this is my turkey sandwich. Hey, I've been looking for that!"

Rott: After pulling down his mask, he continued to rummage through the medical instruments and organic refuse with one hand, while using the other to munch on the half-eaten sandwich. The fact that parts of some unfortunate living being clung to it didn't seem to disturb him much.

Mick: "...I don't even wanna know where the fuck you got your medical licence from..." He said weakly, stomach turning. Oh god, he was either going to die here or later from some kind of infection. Could he even sue for malpractice? He blinked. Rott was catching, apparently. "Why the fuck do I even want this 'gift'? I'm cool how I am."

Rott: "Why be cool when you could be ground-breaking?" Rott asked, still chewing on his food. "Ah, here we go. Say hello to my little friend!" He pulled the lid off the containment cylinder and pulled out the large jar full of squirming, pulsating, blobs of living gunk, eerily resembling clusters of eggs, suspending in oozing mucous.

Rott: "Or should I say, your little friend?" He shot his patient a grin, before pulling up the mask again.

Mick: "Aw hell no you are not puttin' that any where near me!" Screw not struggling, Mick went pale and started trying to get out. Come on, a cellphone, a satellite, he'd even take WiFi right now! Anything! "Groundbreakin's all well and good but not when y're gonna bring th' fuckin' Alien Queen shit into it!"

Rott: "Oh, you're probably wondering why you can't escape, aren't you?" Rott asked, eying the captive student while he reached into the jar to poke one of the eggs with the tip of his finger. The slimy object squirmed in response. "Of course we didn't expect physical restraints alone to do the trick."

Rott: "Which is why we flooded your system with a nice cocktail of power suppressing drugs," the doctor elaborated as he carried the jar over and set it down on the gurney, right next to Mick. "That aside, the entire lab is built in a way to create a Faraday cage. So why don't you stop struggling and enjoy the show instead?"

Mick: Faraday cage...Mick was confused for a moment, and then paled. No electric charge in or out. Any lines he might find would just take him to another part of the lab, if he could even find them thanks to the drugs. His strange eyes banked down as he stopped looking at that. He was trapped. The panic became very real then.

Mick: "I don' wanna do this. I had enough of 'experimental' with my fuckin' parents, but at least they didn' try to ram Alien down my throat - fuck, this shit only happens in comics, it doesn't-" He was babbling, eyes fixed on the jar, trying not to hyperventilate and half-wishing he would seizure, it would mean he didn't have to deal with this...

Rott: "Oh, your parents were scientist? How exciting! They must invite me to tea sometime, then we can chat over fun and fascinating unethical experiments." Rott turned around to pick up a large pair of metallic forceps with the right, and a hooked spreader with the other hand.

Rott: He returned to his patient's side and looked down at the restrained boy. "In the meantime, if it helps you deal with the whole situation, I could let you call me Daddy Rott." The wrinkles forming around his eyes revealed his grin, even though his face was still hidden behind the mask.

Mick: "Oh you creepy sonuvabitch-" Mick's voice was slowly going up in octaves, cracking at the end as his eyes widened and fixed on the instruments. "N-no, they just...fed me drugs...oh fuuuuuck..." He was trying to dig himself through the table with his shoulderblades, whimpering. "...Too much t' ask for anaesthetic, ain't it?"

Rott: "Oh, don't worry, it will only hurt for a moment," the doctor assured his unwilling patient. "The procedure, that is. I'm afraid there aren't enough painkillers in an entire hospital to help you with the transformation process that follows, so... try to enjoy the ride!" Rott's exclamation was eerily cheerful, before he shoved the spreader into Mick's mouth.

Rott: "I don't need to tell you that this will be over faster the less you struggle," he commented, twisting and turning the cold metal to work it between the boy's jaws and force them apart.

Mick: A terrified tear escaped despite his efforts, almost not hearing the part about 'transformation' as he went completely rigid from fear. Even the ache from his jaw being forced too wide was distant as he clawed his hands. He had to get through this. Fuck, he was an X-Man, he had to deal with this, he'd be fine, he'd - this was a nightmare. Breathe, Mick, you'll be fine...his eyes fixed on Rott, staring at the doctor.

Rott: "There once was a little bug that dreamed of becoming a beautiful butterfly," the doctor softly hummed to himself, dipping the forceps into the jar to pluck out one of the rather large eggs. "One day it found a friend and wore his skin instead." Yellow-green mucous dripped down on the boy's face as he held the squirming thing above his face.

Rott: "And soon it shall become a beautiful, horrible thing of beauty." Rott sighed to himself, before he dropped the egg into the Mick's mouth.

Mick: He froze as he watched the squirming above him, half-trying to shut his mouth even with the spreader keeping it there. Scenes went through his head of the chestburster - and randomly, the Special in Spaceballs - flinching as the acidic mucous burnt his skin. Then it was in his mouth-

Mick: Even with the spreader muffling them, Mick's screams were loud as it tore its way through him - at least until they were choked off and became gargling, heels slamming against the table and fingers clawing at the surface, body jerking against the invader.

Rott: "There there, that's wasn't so bad, was it now?" Rott asked even while his patient was still struggling against the restraints, fighting against the parasite as it crawled down his throat. "And the best part is, this was only the beginning. You have such an exciting journey ahead of you, dear Micky."

Rott: He loosened the spreader and pulled it out again, freeing the boy's jaw, before turning away to head for the door of his lab. "Bob? Where are you, you useless excuse for an assistant? This one is done and can be taken back to his room."

Mick: Mick wanted to pass out. He should pass out. The pain was so terrifying he wanted to be sick from it, if it wasn't for the parasite, getting to the point where he was out the other side and feeling his body trying to fight the thing. With his jaw free, he could scream, but his body wasn't able to, incoherant gargling coming out instead. Not so bad...not so bad...something wet snapped and he really did scream then.
Chaos
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Re: 7/27 Instance: I'll Have The Soup

Post by Chaos »

...Mayday could take him.
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