Doctor, I can't tell if I'm not me

❝ Who is in control? ❞

Indie / Semi-Selective / Novella Style

A horror-centric OC RP blog that focuses heavily on body horror, violence, and gore. Infected with an eldritch parasite named Sybil, Mia Holland must find a way to destroy her before she destroys the ones around her.

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Atomic level is his specialty, if he’s being honest, except he isn’t being honest. He can juggle atoms and split them with no repercussions to living matter, and all that nice stuff, but how does one explain it to a gal who’s just looking for a way to feed her eldritch parasite?

“That’s… complicated. I never got past the whole E = mc^2, is there a sequel? I don’t think so.”

He finally steps away – see, he understands boundaries, he just respects them only when it’s convenient. This way he has a better view at Mia – and Sybil. Exactly which part is prevalent in her hopes and dreams?

“Nice to meet ya, Sybil. Tough being locked up, huh? I would know.”

Ah, he could barf remembering those tight quarters. Visibly squirming, he snaps his attention back to the unfortunate drifter.

Mia's eyes narrowed a bit, thankful for the distance but not so thankful about his lack of answer to her question. At this point, she figured she would have better odds curing herself than getting answers out of him.

"Just a guy. Right. And I'm just a woman with a really bad bug," she blinked with a shake of her head, hand coming up for her to pinch the bridge of her nose in thought. "Okay, okay, whatever, this is my life now, whatever. Look, if there's anyone that's trapped in this situation, its me. She can fucking burst from me whenever she wants, its not like I have her in a box in my gut right now. Hence why three households are suddenly empty."

She didn't even know why she was talking to him at this point. He wasn't giving her answers and she doubted that he had solutions. Still, he was right now the one person she was sure Sybil couldn't eat. Maybe.

He chews on the filterless end of the cig while she talks, nodding at times like a properpsychoanalyst, except he isn’t writing anything down. Not his strongest suit. Instead, he lets shameless amusement crawl onto his bloodless face, his mouth stretching into a grin.

She makes conjectures about his origin, very good ones, and he visibly cringes, “Ouch, the last one was too close.”

Standing up, he paces to and fro for a few seconds, then grabs her head to swivel it this way and that, cigarette still in his mouth when he leans in close to look at her eyes. He likes playing doctor, if you catch his drift. However, he doesn’t let it last for too long this time.

“So she’s like…all over you? There is no place where most of her is stored?”

Eldritch beings being his specialty, he is excited about meeting his kin. You don’t come across one every day, so he waves cheerfully at Mia’s face.

Mia watched as he paced around after her lengthy explanation, taking a small step backwards futilely as he immediately approached and began prodding and moving her head around as if trying to spot Sybil. If only it was that easy -- she wouldn't have to dedicate so much of her time proving her existence if that was the case. Now that he was much closer, she could take the opportunity to really look at him.

He was baffling, frankly, and needlessly interesting to her. He looked human but she wasn't certain of what he was, and that little bit of mystery was reeling her intrigue in. She flinched only slightly as he waved his hands in front of her face, chuckling as she realized what he was attempting to do.

"Her name is Sybil. I've studied her for years and I have not found a point of separation between her and me. Its like... a bond down to the atomic level, probably. Fuck if I know, I've got limited resources." She remarked with a casual shrug.

She does what he usually craves from others – say his name. In other circumstances he’d get her to repeat it two times and go to town, leaving her on a conflagration of chaos. But those times are in the past. Not a muscle moves in him at the sound. He takes a step back to lower himself onto a stool left here by the previous denizens. Huffing a sigh, he folds his arms and watches Mia panic.

“I can feel her and you and a couple dozen dead people just on her breath. You really thought you were stealthy, huh?”

Conjuring up a cigarette, he makes it ignite at the tip and takes a drag that would induce instant lung cancer on anyone else. He spreads his arms, cigarette pinched between his knuckles.

A huff of disbelief leaves her. This was really happening right now. It was almost cartoonish, with him manifesting a cigarette out of nowhere. If she wasn't distressed right now she probably would've found it mildly entertaining. She blinks it away with a shake of her head, looking away from him to try and collect exactly how she was going to approach this conversation.

"I am... infected with an eldritch parasite. I don't have proof she's actually an eldritch, its just the best description of her. You ever see John Carpenter's The Thing? That. That fucking thing. I've had her since the day I was born -- never found out a way to cure myself or kill her," that last bit is said with a bit more frustration, a bit more grief. She brushes it aside quickly though and continues.

"Normally, parasites drain the host and either move on or reproduce. She has done neither. So she requires external nutrients -- other humans. I've found that if I...uh... "supplement" her feeding, she doesn't need to go ripping and tearing neighborhoods apart so frequently. Which is...well, you know, just fucking lovely." She grumbles that last bit before she finally glances back at him, part of her dreading his reaction to what she had explained. There was a fair share of shame and remorse for how she's had to operate, for how she's had to mitigate destruction. Was it fucked up? Sure. But she was out of options at this point.

Piece of cake. It really is, and he even knows the way to circumnavigate all the red tape of bringing the dead back to life. It would be a nice fucking challenge back in the days, but he isn’t nearly as thrilled as he could be. He tilts his head to the ceiling, rubs his jaw as though in deep thought.

“That’d require a direct offense to nature, but hey – I am one myself.”

And she is, too, isn’t she? There’s this unnatural air around her, and the sensation that she isn’t who she wants to seem. And she’s feisty on top of that. He likes them feisty, but not in the mood for bickering tonight. In fact , he doubts he’ll ever be again.

“Mia? That’s cool. I’m Betelgeuse. The Shoulder of the Giant and all that stuff,” he waves his hand dismissively. He used to be pretty fond of his name, just as the rest of himself, but now the appeal has faded.

He looks her in the eyes again, moving in closer than common etiquette recommends.

Mia's still just as confused as she was when she first got here but she was a least a little more at ease now. She doesn't feel quite as threatened and defensive when he approaches her again, instead taking the opportunity to really get a good look at him. It was strange but there was a certain degree of fascination -- when else would she get the opportunity to observe something as strange as this?

"Betelgeuse." She repeats as if confirming the name to memory, as if something as strange as that name could leave her brain. His next words cause her brows to furrow in slight confusion.

"Double bottom? What in the everloving fuck are you talking about?" Her tone is one of exaggerated exacerbated confusion with a degree of minor agitation before she immediately continues on without much pause.

"If you're referring to... Wait, no. Hold on. What are you even sensing off of me? Can you like...feel her? Like you can tell something's wrong?" Mia really didn't know how to deal with the information that her condition could be sniffed out by whatever the hell he even was. She didn't know if she was relieved or disturbed.

GORE SENTENCE STARTERS. (accepting)

She recoiled slightly, put off by the explicitness of BSB's descriptions. She hated being the focus of this absolute maniac of a being. The human part was debatable at this point.

"Ahhhh, come on, it's a little funny. I figured you'd like hearing me eatin' shit." They said with a purr, the teeth and eyes of the mask lighting up with every syllable.