#cipher (ic)

> Dumb lizard...

> Well. At this point it’s more fungus than lizard, but if it looks like a lizard and acts (sort of) like a lizard, then it’s a lizard for the sake of brevity.

> Your lusus has crawled under some heaped up framing and debris from some public project or another, and refused to come out. You crawled under as best you could, but it’s just out of reach, and also just sitting there while you struggle in vain to grab it. You attempt to sidle under a little more, and the whole heap shifts half an inch so it’s now...Crushing you a little, and you can’t move. You give a small squeak as the air is pressed out of your lungs, but at least you can breathe back in. For the moment.

> You deflate, legs lying flat on the crumbling sidewalk in defeat. That’s all which is visible of you from outside the heap, at the moment.

> You guess this is how you die.

> You can reach your lusus now, at least. You grab him and scoop him closer to you.

Button Eyes: whoever sends this has ownership of a voodoo doll especially made for my muse, and can inflict harm on them at will. Lasts as long as they want.

> You need something temperature-controlled, and while you’d like to sleep in your bed, the enclosed space is surprisingly cozy and you find drifting off to the chill is quite peaceful. Rather than shiver and ache, you just get lethargic, it becomes harder for you to keep your eyes open, and you drift off.

> There’s no point in bringing your phone with you. You’re out like a light, and no phone call or alarm could wake you. You wake up naturally when the temperature rises again.

> It scares you a little, honestly. You’ve never tested, but you don’t think you’d ever wake up if you stayed in the cold.

> But anyway! The not-cooler warms up to room temperature right at 7pm, and you climb out might like a rainbow drinker creeping out of their coffin. You aren’t expecting any messages except perhaps from work, and those can wait, so you go about with your usual evening routine of making coffee and plating a cut of raw beef. You kind of miss the ritual of cooking sometimes, so you just settle for making your meals look nice.

> After you eat, and as you’re finishing your coffee (Black and decaf, you like the bitter flavor) you finally check your phone.

> Only to see a message from Risori of all people, sent during the middle of the day no less.

> Oh, asking if you want more samples.

CT: -You’d better have grabbed those specimens.)

"-Yes, dance. Dance for my amusement~)"

Nose: What’s your favorite smell? Least favorite? What scent do you find comforting? Is there an outdoorsy smell that appeals to you? (beaches, pine trees, sand, ect.) Boop? Y/N

"-My favorite smell is petrichor, so I suppose that answers two questions. Three, if you could that I find it very comforting. My least favorite smell- Mm, honestly, I can't stand the smell of metal. It's- Eugh.)"

"-One boop is fine~)"

Hands: Are you artsy? Do you play any sort of instrument? Do you draw? Do you write? Do you have soft hands? Do your hands ever idle or do you always have to be doing something with them?

"-I am unfortunately not the least bit creative. I attempted a bit of piano growing up, but it never stuck. I suppose my hands are soft, they certainly aren't coarse. Idle hands are boring.)"

Ankles: Do you feel like you have enough support? What would you consider a weak spot, physical or mental? Have you ever broken something on purpose? (Smashed a window, knocked over a lamp, ect.)

Said containment breach was a small, bizarre creature completely obscured by long strands of thick, hair-long fronds. Moving at rapid speeds it made a straight beeline for the only troll in the room, Cheran, and launched itself at him. Cheran yelped in surprise, having only had time to do so much as look up at Cipher before being possibly mauled.

“Don’t tou--”

Cheran’s fingers twitched, and razor-sharp threads like spider’s silk formed at various angles around him, slicing the odd creature to bits. It had been too close to his face, he didn’t know what it was or what was going on, he panicked-

Cipher had also been in the process of reaching for the creature. A singular thread sliced clear through their forearm with perfect ease.

Both trolls froze. Cipher twitched backwards first, a soft exhale escaping them as they cradled the severed stump of their arm towards their chest.

“Jesus-” Wheezed Cheran, releasing his psionics and reaching out towards Cipher, who flinched further away. “I’m--”

The apology died on Cheran’s lips when he saw something...Bubbling, blossoming at the stump of Cipher’s arm. This pale white fungus erupted outwards, forming a new limb, ghastly white with nearly translucent skin revealing Cipher’s watery cyan-colored blood.

Cipher twitched their newly formed fingers, and then their gaze flickered up to Cheran. “....I wasn’t expecting that ei--”

“What the fuck?” Cheran wheezed.

“Sh, sh, don’t...Don’t tell Ullane. Uh, here, c’mon.” Cipher tugged off their lab coat and gathered up their removed limb and the parts of the dismembered creature in the coat, and then grabbed Cheran’s arm to drag him into their lab.

After the door closed, Cheran nearly collapsed, leaning against the door while Cipher haphazardly dumped their coat on an operation table. They were jittery; Cheran got the impression that they were just barely trying to keep it together, but so was he--

“Don’t tell Ullane?” Cheran suddenly realized that was what Cipher had asked of him.

“I said I wasn’t expecting this! I don’t want her asking questions and I don’t even know the answer! She will ask questions!” Cipher hissed, pointing at their freshly formed hand. They waved both hands anxiously and then turned to pace a circle around their lab.

Cheran dragged his hands down his face. He could understand, having not wanted Ullane to find out he was a zombie.

“Wh...So you don’t have any idea why that happened??”

“Well, nothing concrete. Just, please, don’t mention this at all. As far as anyone else is concerned I’m normal! I’ll pay you for your trouble, okay??”

“I- Fine, I get it, you don’t have to pay me, I’ll...I’ll just forget I saw anything.” Cheran waved his hands, brushing off Cipher’s offer.

“You’re sure? Five grand?”

“Don’t...Don’t tempt me. I’m just going to go.”

@epiosirida [ Send "Do you trust me?" to see if my muse trusts yours, and just how much if so. ] accepting