3/4 Instance: Son of a Birch

[Slarti]

[Tom] Feck, feck, feck, feck, feck, feck was the chanting coming through the hallway as Tom walked towards Dr. McCoy's sleaping quarters. He doubted that he would be awake at 6 in the morning, most people here slept until eight or nine.

[Tom] Tom came to the door, first knocking gently, but speeding up untill he was almost banging on the door.

[Dr.McCoy] "Not another knock-knock joke, James," Hank mumbled, rousing himself. Oh, the knocking was real. "My my stars..." he yawned, trailing off as he went from the bedroom to the front door of his apartment and opened it without ceremony. "What the blue bloody he-"

[Dr.McCoy] "Oh, Thomas," he attempted a grin at the student and ran a hand through his hair. "W-what can I do for you?" He stepped aside, straightening his pajamas. "Please, er, come in."

[Tom] "Problem, big problem" To said while walking in Dr. McCoy's place. Tom looked around, nice place. "It's not working. It's, oh God, it's not working."

[Dr.McCoy] Hank blinked. "Er, what's not working?" Where were his glasses? Tom looked fuzzy. Or was that stubble?

[Tom] "The serum, it's not working, look" he said while pulling up his boxer's leg to show his own. "Look, it's as big as fuckin' Britain! I thought the serum slowed the process down, that wasn't there last night."

[Dr.McCoy] "Oh?" Hank squinted, leaning down until he realized just what he was looking at. "Oh! Excuse me... I need my glasses."

[Dr.McCoy] He fetched them from the bedroom and returned, gently prodding the area without a second thought. "Ah, I see." An area of flesh had transformed to...well, it looked like wood. "Hmmm.."

[Tom] Tom watched McCoy poke his leg as if he was a small child finding his first dead frog. "Look, I know it's fun touching weird things, but I'm a little worried here."

[Tom] "So?" he ask.

[Dr.McCoy] "Ah, yes, well..." he straightened to look at the boy. "As I said, the fibrofication process seemed to have intensified after your, ah, accident. We can adjust your dose, perhaps..." He really needed coffee before he thought about this more.

[Tom] "Well, are we just goin' to stand here? Come on man, before I turn into a real life version of Pinocchio?" He said as seriously as someone talking about the dead.

[Dr.McCoy] He sighed and gave Tom a stare. "Let's go to the lab," he said, grabbing a robe and leading the way.

[Dr.McCoy] Once there he rumaged through his cabinets, pulling out various components. "I am hesitant to increase you dose much without further testing, Thomas. We can simply increase the frequency until I have a chance to complete my calculations."

[Tom] "How long will these tests take? Remember, this" he pointed to his leg," this was not there last night. It grew in just seven hours."

[Dr.McCoy] "Well," Hank hedged, actually pretty unsure of what to do. This was progressing faster than he thought it would, and he still was unconvinced that it shouldn't be happening. Mutations were odd. "I would need to take blood, and another tissue sample."

[Dr.McCoy] He chewed his lip. "It would take at least a day, perhaps two, but I believe it is vitally important."

[Tom] Tom stared at McCoy. "Six hours," he pointed at his leg again. "By the time the tests are finished their results would be useless." Tom sat down on the available chair and put his head in his hands, "Jaysis this can't be happenin'. "

[Tom] He looked up to McCoy. "Can't we just skip the tests? Will it kill me?"

[Dr.McCoy] He sighed. "I don't believe it would kill you, but I would not recommend it," he said. "The components are potentially dangerous - I don't know what an untested formula could do." Good Lord, but the boy was clearly desperate. He whipped off his glasses and cleaned them furiously.

[Tom] "If it doesn't kill me than it's not a problem. It either works or it doesn't, and I think it'll be better if I stop it now, else it'll be too late." He looked for a response from McCoy, but he just kept rubbing those damned glasses of his.

[Dr.McCoy] That earned Tom a glance. "Oh, there are worse things than dead, my boy," he said, setting his glasses back on his nose. "But, very well. I believe you are correct that the process will simply instensify given more time."

[Dr.McCoy] Hank pulled out the base compound and added a few mililiters of a greenish substance. He stared at it for a long moment before dropping a bit onto his own wrist. Well, it didn't burn.... or explode.

[Dr.McCoy] "Here," he held it out to Tom. "I would suggest not breathing while you drink that." He thought for a moment. "And remember, though I know this is not what you want to hear -- the fibrofication process may simply be a natural part of your mutation. Nothing will stop that."

[Tom] Tom took the beaker, half scoffing at McCoy's last sentences. He took a second staring at green substance. "Sláinte!" he said and quafed it down.

[Tom] It took four long quiet seconds before he parted the beaker from his lips. Then the coffing started. It felt like his throat and stomach was simultaniously on fire and frozen.

[Dr.McCoy] "Thomas!" He grabbed the boy by the shoulders, checking to see what he was choking on. Nothing....

[Tom] "I can't," cough "there's something wrong, " cough, cough, "it burns, inside, so cold and burns," cough. He was on his hands and knees now, coughing at the floor. Cough

[Tom] And with that last cough, a spray of thick, yellowish gluelike substance came out of his mouth onto the floor in front of him. He spit out the rest of the stuff out of his mouth. "I'm okay, I think I'm okay." he said without looking up.

[Dr.McCoy] Ew, well, that was hardly expected... "My dear boy, are you all right?" Wait. He felt the blood draining from his face as Tom changed before his eyes, his skin twisting into... was it? "Stars and garters...."

[Dr.McCoy] He grabbed Tom's right hand, noticing the missing finger tip was missing no longer, and his grip was hard and rough. "Thomas? Can you hear me?"

[Tom] "Yes," he breathed hard, the coughing did a number on his lungs, "What's wrong?"

[Dr.McCoy] "Um, Thomas..." he helped Tom back onto the chair. "Y-you remember I told you that it's possible this, er, process was a natural part of your mutation?

[Dr.McCoy] I want you to keep that in mind..."

[Tom] "Yeah, and?" He got more concerned, but before he could ask anything more he saw his hand.

[Tom] Tom slowly lifted his right hand, looking at it, opening it, stretching his fingers wide open then closing and clenching it into a fist. He followed his hand, down the wrist, the elbow, the upper arm.

[Tom] He quickly took off his shirt then saw on his chest and stomach his skin hardening, turning darker, cracking and breaking, expanding and becoming like bark of a tree. "Oh my God." he whispered.

[Dr.McCoy] "Now, Thomas, don't panic," he said. "This is not a bad thing, this is natural." Maybe he added mentally. "Now, just let me get a tissue sample, and we can continue with our research."

[Tom] "You call this fucking natural?!" Tom jumped up from the chair and grabbed the steel tray next to the examining table, throwing the contents on the ground and looking at his reflection in it.

[Tom] It crept up his neck from the right, turning his one ear, moving left over his face and his scalp. He felt his head and his hair fell off as it moved over, turning his head into wood. It finally ended around his left eye.

[Tom] His eyes didn't change. He opened his mouth. That seemed normal too, but after scratching his teeth and tongue... that was also wood. So it was only his eyes left human.

[Tom] A tear formed, but was absorbed into the cracks of the bark that was now his skin.

[Dr.McCoy] "Well, yes, Thomas, I-I do!" Good Lord, his hair fell out! "Now, I want you to just breathe." He pulled the tray from Tom's hands after a moment of struggle. "Breathe, Tom, just calm down..."

[Tom] "Calm down? Calm down?! Fuck you! Fuck this Goddamned place and fuck mutation!" Tom stormed off slamming Hank's office door behind him.

[Dr.McCoy] Hank straightened, slamming the tray down and not noticing the cane on the floor until he tripped over it.

[Dr.McCoy] "Oh, well, that's fascinating," he said, stooping to pick up the cane. He sighed. Surely, given time, they could figure out if this was the natural progression of Tom's mutation.... or if Hank himself had truly made the ultimate mistake. He looked around his empty lab.

[Dr.McCoy] The pea plants on the eastern wall. The ones he had used during his formulations for Tom's serum... they were dead. Withered as though by a sudden draught.

[littlebamf]

Wow. Fantastic job, you guys! A seriously great game!!

And, I admit it, I laughed.

[stjohn]

wow, poor guy

[tears~fall~like~glass]

nice guys

I laughed too, lil....

[Svartfreja]

Hehe oh dear. I feel bad for Hank *pats* he's only trying to help.

[JSherlock]

Awww. Poor Tom! What a shit mutation.

And Poor Hank - he's only doing his best. Well done you two! Great interaction and all.

[fourpawsonthefloor]

Loved this game. Absolutely brilliant. Awesome work you guys - quite captivating.

Paws

[Ferguson]

Oh this is going to end badly. Great instance!

With all that's going on Hank is going to have his work cut out for him.

[steyn]

I wonder how I can mess up Tom's life next....hmm...

[fourpawsonthefloor]

Have him fall in love with the weeping birch out back.

Paws

[steyn]

I'm gonna make him have nightmares about Canadian Lumberjacks!

[fourpawsonthefloor]

Originally posted by steynedvelvet
I'm gonna make him have nightmares about Canadian Lumberjacks!

LOL! *fires up her chainsaw*

And rubbing wood on wood makes fire. Poor Tom.

Paws

[littlebamf]

Originally posted by fourpawsonthefloor

And rubbing wood on wood makes fire. Poor Tom.

Paws

Being wood also makes him highly flammable

[Scumfish]

*gets out matches*

ROFL at Paws - it's the only way the guy's gona get any action

Awsome instance - poor Hank!!

[steyn]

His new codename could have been Splinter, but unfortunately a rat already has it trademarked

[NachtcGleiskette]

LMAO jesus you guys!!

And poor Tom...he's a bastard...but man. However....YAY TREE TOM!!!

He has to watch for termites

And dog's marking their territory....

[steyn]

Dogs aren't a problem.
That tree has a defense mechanism it's called "a good hard kick".