People you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

31 minutes ago, AonEne said:

So you’re saying this is Vivica’s soul colorized 2020? 

Needs more char, And tentacles.

[18th Shard he/him]

On 1/31/2020 at 0:47 AM, Sorana said:

Frozen, Mike stared at the device on his arm, stared and stared while the Man approached and place the amulets around his neck and stuffed them beneath his shirt. They were cool on his hot skin and he waited, waited for something to happen, but nothing did. Instead he relaxed slowly, his thoughts turning slightly sluggish when the toxin spread through his body.

Tap the medallions. The words slowly registered and he wondered what he was supposed to do. This was meant to help him. Help him? There was no way to help him. He looked up at Xanas, his fear slightly subsiding for the moment. Trapped, he was still trapped but for now, he might even be safe. Snake wrapped herself around him and peeked out at Xanas. She could test him, ask for something, see if the man meant what said. If he really wanted to help, maybe this was her chance. She could get rid of fox and of Mike at the same time. Squirrel might make a nice next meal and that fish, she didn't need to worry about a fish.

"Could you contact Wes?" she asked, because that was, what Mike would have done, cold calculation slightly coloring her voice. "He will worry about me." Me not us. She wouldn't make squirrel's mistakes. She would trick that man. Her tongue darted out of Mike's mouths slightly longer than before when she tasted the air. "And how do I tap the amulets?" She added another question to keep him distracted. If things worked out as planned, this body would finally be hers and hers alone.

@18th Shard

Xanas looked at Mike. Apparently the sedative was working, though something was off. Some mannerism or wording was different now. 

"Wes? I don't know him. I suppose I could ask someone to try and get in contact him, but it might be hard with only a name. However, as to your second question," he paused, trying to figure out how deep to go in response. "They are medallions, not amulets, but regardless, their form is irrelevant. They are Feruchemical metalminds, a system of Investiture use from Scadrial, like spikes but less invasive and therefore less permanent. One stores an attribute in the medallion, then taps it later, allowing one to draw on past unused reservoirs of that attribute. However, using some techniques developed in Southern Scadrial and then improved upon in the Alleys, we have enabled it to be possible for another person to store the attribute and you tap it." 

Xanas gestured at the medallion. "The center ring is nicrosil, which enables you to have the capacity to tap the remainder of the metalmind. The first medallion has an aluminum ring, in which blank Identity was stored. When you tap it, it will conform to your own soul, reinforcing your Identity. It should help with any spiritual degradation caused by the spikes you have, allow your soul to, in a way, bolster itself. The latter medallion allows you to burn gold Allomantically (again, a Scadrian ability). Allomantically, gold grants the capacity to determine alternate persons one could be, which I hope will help re-anchor you to who you are mentally." 

Xanas held up a vial filled with a saline solution with gold flakes stirred in - using alcohol in vials meant one had a flammable liquid in an easily breakable container, and Xanas preferred to minimize that risk. Plus when testing large quantities of metals, you didn't want a drunk subject - sometimes spikes decreased one's capacity to handle liquor.

"Ttlarek, could you grab a chair? Mike doesn't need to sit on the floor."

@Sorana

[AonEne he/him]

1 hour ago, ZincAboutIt said:

Needs more char, And tentacles.

Quote

The transparent background somehow didn’t work  

 

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Vivica stared at her notepad, unblinking, while Sierra continued speaking with Grey. She read the words that she had scribbled there, in her own handwriting. 'Vivica - burnt at the edges.'

She read them again. And again. She did not stop reading them, the phrase looping through her mind like a reel of film. There was something rising in the back of her throat; it felt like a scream. The sensation seemed familiar, something that she had done many times, and the reason was there, knocking at the door of her mind. She tired to ignore it, pushing another forkful of cinnamon roll into her mouth. Bennington began swimming in agitated loops.

Vivica did not listen to the knocking in her mind, and began taking notes again, the diligent kind that she'd been taught in R&D. Her hand flew over the paper as she chewed, her eyes barely focused. Something was clouding her thoughts, something thick and dark. It was so hard to think through that knocking - more like a thundering, actually. It, too, seemed familiar.

Her hand went to her pocket, sticky with sugar, and she withdrew a spike. She began flipping it in one hand, then catching it. One, two, three - on the fourth she fumbled it, her fingers clumsy and shaking. Vivica looked at her hand, cocking her head. The thundering sound had changed to a roar, a snapping, sucking wind that battered against her mind. She stood suddenly, backing away, knowing that she could not - must not - let it get in. Smoke continued to pour into her mind, hot and stinging.

"Can't you hear it?" She whispered, clutching her notepad like a shield and staring at Grey and Sierra, who were still speaking. Didn't they know how close it was? The fire. It was right outside the door. Any moment now, and the roof would cave in. Any moment now, and she'd hear that whining sizzle that came from flesh burning like meat. Any moment now, and she'd be alone again. Alone, with the fire chewing through the walls, climbing over piles of charred wood, slipping in hot blood that scalded her feet like tar. Vivica backed up further, reaching behind her for the door handle, praying that it wasn't hot, begging that it would open.

"Can't you hear it?!" She shouted, her whole body shaking now. Was she laughing? Behind her, the door swung open and she staggered out into the Alley beyond; the air looked clear here, but she could still hear it roaring. Vivica gave one last look at Grey and Sierra as Bennington bobbed above her shoulder, eyes concerned. Then, with a sound somewhere between a wail and a giggle, she Alleytraveled.

She ran as she did, moving through Alleys at a reckless speed, barely giving any thought to where she was or who she might pass. The sound followed her, chewing through the walls, crackling in the floor boards. It was behind her, always right behind her. Vivica sprinted through an Alley entirely covered in blue and purple ice, slid through a place that looked like a mud cave, and even ducked through one or two of the imaginary Alleys. Always, always, it followed her.

Vivica wasn't sure how long she had been running when she stumbled into a narrow alleyway of black stone and collapsed, her breath coming in ragged sobs, her palms torn from scrambling through jagged places. She still had her notepad, and she curled against the wall, clutching it, waiting for the fire. Vivica caught sight of the writing for the first time, the notes she had been taking back at the table, and gave a shuddering scream.

Over and over, a litany written in her tight scrawl. Burnt at the edges. Burnt at the edges. Vivica. Vivica.

Vivica. 

Quote

She'll be back at some point, but this was too good of an opportunity to pass up  

@Snipexe @Shard of Thought

[Voidus]

Voidus took measured paces as he walked the Alleys back towards his office, there were faster ways to get there but walking the Alleys had always helped to relax him. The chaos around every corner, exciting discoveries being made behind each door, unspeakable horrors lurking in every sky. It was chaos, chaos kept barely controlled enough to not destroy the Alleys, but that was all it needed to be. The Alleys didn't need to be ordered, they were expected to be a mess.

Voidus sent a tired smile skyward as some immense shadowy being passed overhead, swimming overhead through a tear in reality and passing out through another. There were many such creatures that had been drawn to the Alleys, to the chaos of interwoven pockets of space that crossed through universes. Some had been researched and categorised, but many appeared to be individuals, the only members of their species. Or at least the only members that had so far been found, who knew how many more there were, in the pockets between universes, waiting for some opportunity to burst out into reality to finally taste existence.

"You're not missing much." Voidus told the creature as it vanished into another crack in the sky.

He stared at the place where it had vanished, watched as the crack repaired itself only to tear open in another direction, a new spiderweb of cracks spreading through the sky. But his attention was taken a moment later as he noticed a different kind of twisting of reality, the familiar changing of Alleys that signified someone else Alleytravelling nearby. But the way they were forming, one hastily connected to the next in rapid succession. It may have just been someone unfamiliar with Alleytravelling, but the placement of each Alley was too precise for that. Someone very practised, but hurried.

Changing his own path, Voidus strode forwards again, a little faster now as he connected this Alley with the last to be twisted in front of the other traveller. It was possible that it was simply a Denizen in a hurry, with the discovery of an Atium cache and an attack at the same time there was certainly enough to keep people busy. But it could be something else, another problem arising that would need to be taken care of. And he couldn't turn a blind eye to such things, not yet.

Space warped around him as he stepped into another Alley, only managing one more step before something collided with his chest. Placing one arm on the shoulder in front of him, Voidus kept a firm grip on the figure, staring over their head to see what it was that they were fleeing from. The Alley was lined by dark gray blood-stained stone walls, shadowy tendrils spilling down them and grasping towards the center of the Alley. But nothing that would cause a Denizen any concern.

Looking down for the first time to see what had collided with him, he saw a familiar face, wide, bloodshot eyes, long brown hair that was still settling from the sudden shift in momentum. And a mouth that was still either screeching in horror or cackling with glee.

"Vivica?" Voidus asked
@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Vivica heard herself shriek as she collided with something, and immediately began shifting to get out of its grip. She had to get away, she had to run! Could no one else hear that sound? A hand had closed around her shoulder, and she felt her panic double, her haste reach a fever pitch she would have thought impossible only an hour ago.

"Vivica?"

The sound of her own name surprised her long enough for her to get a look at whoever was waylaying her progress. Her hand was halfway into her pocket for another spike when she caught sight of his face. Vivica blinked, then she clutched at the edges of his coat with renewed fervor.

"Tell me you can hear it too, Nox," she whimpered. "The sound, the sound! It's right behind us, the fire! Tell me you can hear the fire!"

It was moving fast, the whirlwind of flame. The black, choking smoke. Vivica looked up an Nox; he wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving? She grabbed his hand, her other arm still clutching her notepad, and started dragging him down the Alley, deftly weaving her way around the odd tendrils that reached out for her hair or shoes. She was still giggling, a sickly, odd sound.

"Dead, all dead," Vivica said, the words coming out slightly sing-song, as though she were remembering a nursery rhyme. "Dead, dead, dead. Everyone burned in the fire. Everyone but me. Not me. Never me."

@Voidus

[AonEne he/him]

1 hour ago, ZincAboutIt said:

...she stumbled into a narrow alleyway of black stone and collapsed...she curled against the wall, clutching it... 

 

39 minutes ago, Voidus said:

...something collided with his chest. 

Quote

This is too good to pass up l’m sorry 

 

Edited February 3, 2020 by AonEne
Vivica is a burnt marshmallow, and Voidus is a wall

[Voidus]

Voidus followed hesitantly after Vivica, allowing her to pull him along by the arm as she moved through the dangers of the Alleys with a panicked grace, she had cast a few anxious glances behind them but a quick look revealed nothing visibly threatening them.

"Dead, dead, dead. Everyone burned in the fire. Everyone but me. Not me. Never me."  Vivica continued in a melodic voice that formed a discordant harmony with her harsh laughter echoing back down the Alleys.

Raising a hand to a pocket, Voidus wrapped his fingers around a slender spike but hesitated. That would allow him to see the world as Vivica did, but given her panicked state that might not be the best idea, the spike went beyond mere visual replication after all. He would be experiencing whatever she saw exactly as she was, which might cause some complications if it led to him disintegrating an Alley.

Soothing her might help, but the level of soothing required would be dangerous enough to a healthy mind, let alone one that was already this fragile. Almost any attempt to use Investiture ran the same risks, Spiking, Forgery, healing, any rushed attempt would do more harm than good. What did that leave?

"Never you." Voidus echoed, moving forward so that Vivica didn't need to drag him. "Not you, you're not dying."

He watched her carefully as he spoke, watching for any sudden shifts in her wild emotional state. He was not usually comfortable with trying to express empathy or understand others' perspectives. But then most people who were used to that would likely find Vivica's current behaviour perplexing, and Voidus was the only one here to be able to try.

"You're alive." Voidus said quietly. "We're alive and awake. No dreams to hurt us here."

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Nox had finally begun to walk with her, and Vivica felt the smallest part of her relax. They were still moving too slow, far too slow, but this was better than nothing. 

"You're alive," he said. "We're alive and awake. No dreams to hurt us here."

"Of course we're awake," Vivica snapped. The sounds of the fire's progress were growing slightly softer now. Perhaps, finally, she had managed to get ahead of it. She chewed on her lip, then glanced up at Bennington, who gave her a reproachful look. Vivica gave a short, sharp sigh and stuck her notepad out towards Nox.

"Sorry," she said, then waved the notepad through the air again. "No one else will listen to me, Nox. Not Grey, not Sierra. But I know it's coming. The fire, it's out there. I can hear it eating through the stone, right now."

Vivica spun, clutching at his coat. "Right this minute, it's looking for me! It all started when Sierra said... when she said..."

She looked at the notepad in her hand, then held it out to Nox. They had stopped, but the sounds of the fire had grown still more distant. She could stop, for just a moment. Only a moment. If someone else could just see, just understand.

"I took notes," she said quietly, hiccuping as her laughter subsided into soft, sporadic giggling instead. "It is important to take notes, always, when you're making discoveries. I had to take them, you see. I had to protect them from the fire."

Vivica looked past Nox then, past anything. She was still breathing hard, and her heart was hammering in her chest, and she could still taste smoke in the air - but less so, now. She was being rude, and it wouldn't do to be rude in front of friends.

Vivica began to run through her list, the list that someone had helped her make a long time ago, when she'd first gotten her bronze spike. The list was important. The list helped her remember who she was. She spoke aloud, though she did not intend it.

1. Who are you? "I am Vivica." 2. How old are you? "I am twenty-eight." 3. Where are you? "I am in -" Vivica ran one finger along the Alley wall and stuck it into her mouth for a moment "Alley 681-T." 4. Current hallucination count? "Current count is 113 apparitions." 5. What is your Department? "Research and Development." 6. How long has it been since you last slept? Vivica felt a small smile brush her lips. "It has been eleven years, six months, and eighteen days since I last slept."

She blinked once, twice, three times, then looked back at Nox, hoping he would take the notepad. "The list is important," she said, as though that would answer any questions.

[+Sorana she/her]

9 hours ago, 18th Shard said:

"Ttlarek, could you grab a chair? Mike doesn't need to sit on the floor."

@Sorana

Snake smiled at the explanation and sat down when the servant brought a chair over. He didn't move as quickly as she would have liked, but Mike wouldn't have scolded him, so she carefully kept quiet. It sounded easy. Use the one with the identity and replace herself with Mike. She had no use for the second one, knew who he was and who she wanted to be. This was her chance. Mike was too weak and Fox, hopefully these medallions would help her to deal with Fox easily.

She closed her hand around the medallion and concentrated, tried to figure out how she was supposed to tap some invisible identity stored inside.

Mike looked around in the darkness surrounding him, covering him completely. It was eerie, the way it was so quiet, how it was so calm and still. At first he didn't even know who had taken over, only when he saw Fox lying around, appearently sleeping and found Squirrel sitting on his shoulder that he realized that it had been Snake. She had used his fear, his lack of control to ease him out of his place and gently set him aside.

He stared up, somehow glad that Snake was gone, that he had escaped the situation and sat down, holding Squirrel to his chest. He would wait. Snake usually grew bored of being in control sooner rather than later.

"She won't hand control back."

The voice was quiet, nearly unhearable and he turned his head, looked at Salmon. "The medallions will decide who you will be and if she is in charge, she will continue to be." Cold ran along his spine and he felt a weight settle on his chest. So this was it. This was his end. And he had never even managed to find the one who had killed his friend. Staring into the darkness he sat there, did nothing while he tried to understand and to grasp what happened. He was here, she was up there. It had been a long time since he had been able to pull her back down and to reassert control all by himself.

Something changed, the darkness growing smaller and Fox jumped to his feet, looked around, tried to find the reason. Salmon only turned around, swam away and Mike stood up again, looked at his hands, at his arms. He was growing transparent, was loosing his shape. Snake. She was strengthening herself, strengthening the part of him that was her, erasing him completly. Squirrel shuddered and Mike pushed against the darkness, fear racing through his body, followed by desperation. This was his body, his place. He had to look after Wes, had promised the other one, that he would be there for him. He had wanted to become someone Wes could trust, but so far, he had failed. He needed more time, needed to find the murderer, needed to find a way to protect Wes. Mike reached out for Snake and he pulled, pulled and pulled but nothing changed and he screamed, pulled some more. This was his body, his place. And he couldn't leave it to Snake. He had condemned one friend. He couldn't betray another.

His left arm shot forward, scales vanishing and he reached for Xanas hand to grip it in a painfully tight grip. "Help." He whispered.

 

 

[Snipexe he/him]

Grey watched as Vivica rushed away, vanishing. He nodded, accepting the reality of the scenario. All work and no play made Viv a dull girl, he supposed. As the woman left, Grey returned to Sierra. "I'm sorry you feel this way. I think however it may be best that you accept this as your new reality and move forward. Now is the time I guess I ask, how can I help?" Grey mentally winced even as he said that. "Storms I've always been terrible at this. Talking, helping, supporting. Getting one's empathy ripped out piece by piece tends to hamper their ability to make communicate, but you think I would at least make an effort." He sat as he said this, and his whole body seemed to sag as he did so. "So," He tugged on his hat strings."What can I do?"

@Shard of Thought

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sierra trembled slightly. She wanted Vivica to come back, though she didn't understand why that was and she wasn't about to try to. Emotions were her greatest enemy, but she sought only to avoid them, for they were impossible to defeat completely. Even she knew that. She regarded Grey and his rigid, stone-like frame. Her vision made him look almost geometrical, just broken down to shapes, though the shapes were small enough to show a good amount of detail. Her instinct told her to snap at him, but she couldn't bring herself to. Another part of her, the part that she tried to conceal most, begged her to break down to tears and just sob until her sister came to hold her. But Sierra knew her sister was gone. And yet, she didn't want to know it. The truth taunted her in her mother's voice, words drifting around in her head like a poison. She took a sip of her water, conflicting emotions only succeeding in making her feel numb. What did she want? 

She'd thought about that question a lot. Always before, she'd had herself convinced that Theresa's death would make her happy. And before that, she'd killed her mother in her search for freedom. She fingered her braid mindlessly, staring off into space. "I don't know," she whispered. She cringed at the sound of her own voice, swallowing. For some reason, though she was quite hungry, she didn't dare touch her food. She felt... exposed. When she was younger, she tried not to eat as much so she wouldn't throw up. Her mother always hated her for it when she did. Of course, it hadn't helped very much, and they hadn't had much to eat anyway. Being hungry was just... normal for her. She hadn't been full since... Well, she didn't think she'd ever been full. And if she had, she had probably been too drunk to remember it. 

"I guess... I want to know what's really going on," she said. "Why... why'd you do this to me?"

 @Snipexe

[Snipexe he/him]

"Why, did we do this to you. To be honest, part of it was just... to see what happens. This is the Dark Alley, the most prestigious scientific organization in the world, and the most horrifying. Our science, primarily focused on Hemalurgy and related fields, is brutal in nature, and sometimes you just have to take a leap, and hope that you can build monstrous wings before you hit the ground. Your procedure was one of those leaps, and now we are finding out with you the results. As for specifics, well it's rather hard to explain. If it helps, our crime against you was one of opportunity rather than malice. You're spiritually cracked, and we could use that. We're monsters, Sierra, pushing forward advancement without reason or rhyme. The Dark Alley is a bloody Prometheus, bringing down fire to set the world alight. We can't help but do what we do. For most, it's our only solace. Dedicating oneself to the advancement of something beyond the self is a comfort. A focus. A way to forget. For such terrible creatures that we Denizens are, we are so very broken."

@Shard of Thought

[Fatebreaker he/him]

24 minutes ago, Snipexe said:

"Why, did we do this to you. To be honest, part of it was just... to see what happens. This is the Dark Alley, the most prestigious scientific organization in the world, and the most horrifying. Our science, primarily focused on Hemalurgy and related fields, is brutal in nature, and sometimes you just have to take a leap, and hope that you can build monstrous wings before you hit the ground. Your procedure was one of those leaps, and now we are finding out with you the results. As for specifics, well it's rather hard to explain. If it helps, our crime against you was one of opportunity rather than malice. You're spiritually cracked, and we could use that. We're monsters, Sierra, pushing forward advancement without reason or rhyme. The Dark Alley is a bloody Prometheus, bringing down fire to set the world alight. We can't help but do what we do. For most, it's our only solace. Dedicating oneself to the advancement of something beyond the self is a comfort. A focus. A way to forget. For such terrible creatures that we Denizens are, we are so very broken."

@Shard of Thought

Quote

I very much enjoyed this description

 

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sierra sat still. She should probably be horrified, but for some reason she wasn't. His last few sentences had hit her hard. She hardly understood what in the world he was talking about, but she did know that she wanted to find out more. And she felt, for some odd reason, that she belonged here. Her head still ached, but her mother's berating screams inside of her mind had quieted slightly. How she would love to forget her own brokenness. She nodded. "I want that," she said, still deeply shaken. 

@Snipexe

[Snipexe he/him]

Grey nodded at her response, then reached into his lab coat and pulled out two silvery spikes, one in each hand. "The spike in my left is a loyalty spike. It is a requirement for all members of the Dark Alley. It will prevent you from ever betraying us to some another organization. Be aware, this not some kind of precautionary protocol, this spike will fundamentally rewrite your personality such that your mind will not be able to even consider leaving the Dark Alley. The spike in my right hand contains the basics knowledge that all denizens are required to have. Basics in Alleytraveling, Hemalurgy, and general Dark Alley procedure will become part of you, and will feel like you've always had it." Grey paused, looking directly into Sierra's eyes with his own single orb. "This is the final step to becoming a denizen. After this point there will be know turning back. Do you want these spikes Sierra?"

@Shard of Thought

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

The spikes carried a weight to them. No matter what she did next, today the old Sierra, who could lie to herself and pretend that she didn't really understand just how dark her world really was, would die. The question was, what kind of a person did she want to be when she was reborn? Only a few hours had passed since Theresa had been murdered and, in fact, Sierra's hands were still a little bit red with her dried blood. She tried not to think about that. So much had happened since that moment. She felt as if she had aged a decade in that time. Not in wisdom, but in frailty. For the moment, her shell had been peeled painfully back to reveal the soft, human innards beneath. But that was her truest self and she knew it. There was no putting her old shell back on. 

She just had to get stronger. 

Sierra set her jaw, narrowing her eyes with determination. "Yes," she said firmly. 

@Snipexe

[Snipexe he/him]

As the words were uttered, Grey acted. He shoved the two spikes into their requisite bind points, pushing them deeply into the Sierra's flesh. Blood dripped from the twin wounds.

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sierra gasped, a screech ripped from her throat. She gripped the sides of her chair, bony knuckles turning white. Tears of pain dripped down her cheeks, but she gritted her teeth against it. She sat still for an extended moment, shaking steadily and trying to focus on anything but the agony. When she finally got a hold of herself, she grabbed her glass with a trembling hand and downed the rest of her water. She slammed the cup back onto the table. "More," she gasped.

[Snipexe he/him]

Grey laughed at Sierra's response, before soul casting more water into the glass. "Now, tell me, what do you think of when I say the word Hemalurgy?"

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sierra grabbed the glass with both hands and drank the entire thing in one draught. She was breathing heavily as she set it down, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her thin coat. "Blood," she said. "Bind points. Spikes." Sierra paused. "How the hell do I know that?"

[Snipexe he/him]

Grey pointed at the spikes buried in her in response. "So, now that you have access to all this new information, what would you like to do?"

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sierra smiled for the first time in weeks. The expression felt oddly instinctual, yet dissonant against her pain. She stabbed a piece of of cinnamon roll with her fork and shoved it in her mouth. By now, it wasn't as hot as before, but it tasted just as wonderful. "I wanna stab some things," Sierra said lightheartedly. 

[+Ark1002]

Quote

My brain just spasmed a bit at seeing voidus with a different profile picture

 

[18th Shard he/him]

22 hours ago, Sorana said:

Snake smiled at the explanation and sat down when the servant brought a chair over. He didn't move as quickly as she would have liked, but Mike wouldn't have scolded him, so she carefully kept quiet. It sounded easy. Use the one with the identity and replace herself with Mike. She had no use for the second one, knew who he was and who she wanted to be. This was her chance. Mike was too weak and Fox, hopefully these medallions would help her to deal with Fox easily.

She closed her hand around the medallion and concentrated, tried to figure out how she was supposed to tap some invisible identity stored inside.

Mike looked around in the darkness surrounding him, covering him completely. It was eerie, the way it was so quiet, how it was so calm and still. At first he didn't even know who had taken over, only when he saw Fox lying around, appearently sleeping and found Squirrel sitting on his shoulder that he realized that it had been Snake. She had used his fear, his lack of control to ease him out of his place and gently set him aside.

He stared up, somehow glad that Snake was gone, that he had escaped the situation and sat down, holding Squirrel to his chest. He would wait. Snake usually grew bored of being in control sooner rather than later.

"She won't hand control back."

The voice was quiet, nearly unhearable and he turned his head, looked at Salmon. "The medallions will decide who you will be and if she is in charge, she will continue to be." Cold ran along his spine and he felt a weight settle on his chest. So this was it. This was his end. And he had never even managed to find the one who had killed his friend. Staring into the darkness he sat there, did nothing while he tried to understand and to grasp what happened. He was here, she was up there. It had been a long time since he had been able to pull her back down and to reassert control all by himself.

Something changed, the darkness growing smaller and Fox jumped to his feet, looked around, tried to find the reason. Salmon only turned around, swam away and Mike stood up again, looked at his hands, at his arms. He was growing transparent, was loosing his shape. Snake. She was strengthening herself, strengthening the part of him that was her, erasing him completly. Squirrel shuddered and Mike pushed against the darkness, fear racing through his body, followed by desperation. This was his body, his place. He had to look after Wes, had promised the other one, that he would be there for him. He had wanted to become someone Wes could trust, but so far, he had failed. He needed more time, needed to find the murderer, needed to find a way to protect Wes. Mike reached out for Snake and he pulled, pulled and pulled but nothing changed and he screamed, pulled some more. This was his body, his place. And he couldn't leave it to Snake. He had condemned one friend. He couldn't betray another.

His left arm shot forward, scales vanishing and he reached for Xanas hand to grip it in a painfully tight grip. "Help." He whispered.

Scales began creeping up Mike's body. Mike seemed calmer, more like earlier when Xanas had met him in the city. Perhaps the cold-blooded animal traits were connected with a lower pulse? Suddenly, the scales receded from Mike's arm, and he reached out, panicking. Xanas quickly twisted his wrist as Mike reached out for his hand. Mike grabbed his wrist, tightly gripping, but Xanas had moved his finger to a pressure point on the inside of his wrist. If he needed, he could apply pressure, open the grip relatively. The grip was fairly tight, the flexor muscles groups in his forearm taut. If Xanas's body had been capable of it, he probably would have felt a twinge of pain.

"Help." Mike whispered, as if in pain or choking. Xanas looked into Mike's eyes, staring at his dark, snake-like pupils, which stared back at him. They were fluctuating slightly, expanding slightly in a pattern that seemed vaguely sinusoidal, though Xanas would need to track it more precisely to be sure of what was causing it to... The spikes, Xanas realized. They aren't just alternate frames of reference, like Winter alternating wolf and human instincts. This is stronger, maybe even severe personality fluctuations. Storms. Xanas had perhaps miscalculated, though, to be fair, he wasn't working in a particularly nice lab. This is exactly why Hemalurgy is done with control subjects, and desirable traits are carefully altered. It was a fundamental law of Hemalurgic research - you didn't spike for output, but for outcome. Whatever Denizen sanctioned this should spend a short eternity in one of the Lovecraftian Alleys. Maybe then they would understand the reason for basic scientific processes. Xanas looked at the metalmind. He was unsure of how Identity would respond with these personality fluctuations. Would it reinforce the original Identity or amplify variations? Would it shift baseline measurements or just alter the severity of personality drift? Were there genetic factors that might trigger chemical imbalances? Did the fluctuations produce vibrations along the spiritweb, or was it merely mentally affective? Not enough time to consider the various options. I need to reintroduce the original strain of Mike to get a stable Identity-tap. Tests later, results now. He ran through his limited supplies quickly, then shrugged. There really weren't any other options. He took the vial of gold flakes and poured them into Mike's mouth.

"Burn the gold. You'll have to tap the other metalmind to be able to. Concentrate on what you see."

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Poor Xanas. First interesting tests he could run in 1300 years, and he's gotta save someone's sanity instead. It's almost as rough a day as Mike has been going through. That's the life of a vaguely ethical Hemalurgist, I suppose.

@Sorana