He nervously scratches his arm; looking up at the toon by the desk before him tapping away at its floating picture screen. Or what the residents call it ‘Hollow-gram’.
“Box-er..Ratchet.” He responded, as he stood there while the toon writes his name down; a massive door just next to him slid open. “Visiting hours already ended an hour ago, but you’re lucky that HQ made an exemption to newly arrived variants like you.” the toon hummed, glancing at Ratchet's weary demeanor. "Is she your friend?"
The Isolation Area is..understandably uncomfortable. They walked past repeated glass rooms with different types of toon and twisted variants. "Is this safe?" Ratchet queries with eyes darting back and forth, hunched forward and grasping his own arms together.
"hm? Oh yeah you're completely safe here, these variants won't be able to penetrate the structure." She chuckled, stopping infront of a similar room, grabbing her Dandy Pin and scanning it to open the locked door beside. "You have 30 minutes, but the moment she gets aggressive Im obligated to get you to leave immediately.”
The automatic door closed behind him, he stood by the door as he stared at the pitiful sight of the woman on the corner of the room.
She sat with her wrists bound behind her back, shoulders slightly hunched. Her hair was tangled, her clothes wrinkled and loose against her frame. But it was her eyes that held him— crimson and unblinking pupils stretched too wide.
Her voice was steady as she spoke "..brother, I'm glad you're okay"
Ratchet swallowed the knot in his throat. “They’re uh… taking care of you?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “They’re very attentive to my needs.”
Poppy remained quiet, Ratchet continued to speak "“I- i'm sorry, Poppy. I tried to explain—you don’t— you don’t mean any harm—”
"I'm unstable" she cuts him off lightly "I hurted a lot of people, it's best this way."
"It was horrible, wasn't it? You saw what I did" She let out a small laugh under her breath, her eyes never leaving his. “I didn’t think it would feel like that.”
Ratchet didn't answer, visibly disturbed
“It was the best meal I’ve had since arriving here,” she added suddenly.
She blinked, as if realizing it herself.
“…No, that’s not..” A small shake of her head. “They do feed me. They do! The food is good, I think—"
“I just…” Her brow tightened. “I can’t keep it down. My body won’t accept it. It’s like—”
She sucked in a breath, jaw tensing.
Silence stretched between them.
Poppy shifted with restlessness, her shoulders pressing back against the restraints. Her gaze flicked briefly to his neck, then snapped back to his eyes.
“I’m so hungry,” she said softer this time, almost embarrassed.
“I thought it would pass,” she continued, her words beginning to stumble over each other. “I know it'll pass, that's what they said in our church! It's said that a newly turned can adjust but I didn't think it will take THIS long, that I—”
She pressed the side of her head against the wall, dragging it slightly as if trying to ground herself. “It doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop.”
Then she laughed again, but it broke halfway through.
“aha—I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she said, voice shaking now. “I don’t want to be like that again.”
Poppy kept on staring at her agitated brother, making a wry smile "I’m so hungry…” she breathed, the words barely holding together. “Brother, I.. I need—”
She stopped herself, teeth clenching hard enough her jaw trembled.
“Please,” she whispered instead. “I need something else.. Please.”
Ratchet took a cautious step forward. “We’ll figure this out, Poppy. I’m here—”
Everything in her went still.
. . . . . . . . “Poppy…?”
The restraints yanked taut with a violent snap as she lunged forward, a raw, animal sound tearing from her throat. The sudden force dragged the chair with her, metal screeching against the floor. “BOXTEN—GET BACK!”
The door burst open as hands grabbed her—one, two, three variants forcing her down as she thrashed, strength far beyond what her frame should allow. The metal bindings dug into her wrists as she fought, her movements wild, desperate and uncoordinated.
“NO- NO, I DIDN’T—!” she screamed, her voice breaking apart. “I didn’t mean to!”
Her eyes locked onto him again.
Terrified written on her expression this time “DON’T LET HIM LEAVE—” she screamed, twisting against the bindings. “I can’t— I can’t stop!”
Ratchet tried to step forward but firm hands caught his shoulders "You need to leave. now." The woman Ratchet met from earlier firmly said, dragging him back toward the door.
“BOXTEN!” she screamed, the word tearing out of her like it hurt.
Her body jerked violently as they forced her down, her head striking the floor with a dull crack. She didn’t seem to feel it.
“I’M SORRY!” she sobbed, voice dissolving into something ragged and feral. “I’M SORRY, I’M SO HUNGRY—”
The door slammed shut between them.
Even as he was pulled down the hall, and despite the sound dulled behind the reinforced glass wall.
[Status update for Subject: Variant 273901]
Current condition: Unstable but responsive.
Hematophagic drive: Elevated!
Cognitive function: Partially intact! Recognition of familial subject confirmed. Emotional distress present.
Behavioral response: Aggressive under stimulation, restraint resistance noted— oh woow that’s some impressive strength~!
Nutritional compatibility:
Standard food intake: Rejected.
Recommended diet: Fresh hematological supply!
Containment protocol update:
Restraints: Reinforcement required.
Sedation: Strongly recommended.
…still being evaluated! Poor girl has potential as an asset for HQ but with her current mental state? Sheesh! Mm..contacting Medical Bay for assistance and—oh! Say..don’t you think Ratchet would be a nice recruit, Agent Chant?
