2. and the breaking point

[rickitikitarr]

[Video]

[He'd woken up this morning to a terrible new alteration to his body, and to Zane's (rather terrifying) network announcement. So, subdued, short;]

I don't know what the hell is wrong with you people, but this place is fucking dreadful. Someone let us know when the rampage killing lunatic has-

[Fuck. He stops himself, because he hadn't intended to let his temper get away with him. This isn't helping anyone. He, quite visibly, draws a breath in through his nose, lets it out through his mouth.]

I'm sorry. I hope there can be an announcement when the halls are safe again.

[Spam]

[The flood really hasn't been good to him. He gives up on staying holed into his cabin, and makes the trek to go get breakfast. He looks rather unusual, in a low slung pair of jeans and a sheet wrapped around his head and shoulders, held together over his chest with one hand, like a grandmother with a massive shawl.

It's better than going shirtless, which is his only other option. By the way his bedsheet tents up the centre of his back, something is clearly wrong with his spine. When he gets his tray, one handed, and the hood of sheet over his head spills back to reveal a dip at the top of his shoulders, a keen observer will catch sight of a ridge of uncomfortable protruding plates. They're interspersed enough that the movements of his spine are only a little restricted, though twisting side to side more than a bare inch is impossible.

So, he learns quickly, is sitting back comfortably against anything. He perches up gingerly on the edge of his chair, flings one end of the sheet over his shoulder like a scarf to free up his hands a little better, and starts to stab at his meal. He is in a mildly better mood than he was earlier.

Very mildly.]

Comments

[audio]

[tucky]

[Oh hey, this guy. She'd liked this guy.]

It's Zane. You know him?

[audio]

[rickitikitarr]

No. But a few people recommended I look for work with him in the greenhouse, my first day here.

[Further ammunition for his feelings of 'what the fuck is wrong with you people.' She, however, is something of an exception to that rule, so he's audibly calmer by the next sentence.]

I'm having something of a morning. How are you doing?

[audio]

[tucky]

I'm having something of a morning, too. Something of a week, actually.

Iris thinks people are getting their personalities messed around with.

[audio]

[rickitikitarr]

That would explain a great deal.

[He admits. He'd seen her post, her bad news, and had nearly commented three separate times, but ultimately decided that it wasn't the sort of thing a near stranger should intrude on. But the severe nod he gives her now is coloured by it. She strikes him as credulous, but not so unawares as to be fucked around with quite that badly.]

Is it everyone? Or just a select handful?

[audio]

[tucky]

I don't know. Not me, I don't think.

[But would she know if she was? Mindfuuuuuuck.]

[audio]

[rickitikitarr]

Me neither, but I'm sure we wouldn't know if we were.

[Christ. He tries to fall back into his bed, then hits his spikes and growls, rolling, getting onto his stomach.]

And to boot, there's today. Are you all physically garbled as well?

[audio]

[tucky]

Nope. Don't look very fun, though.

[video]

[routemistress]

[Iris is lounging on her couch in a bikini top and low rise leather trousers, the better to show off the set of golden-blonde tentacles growing out of her midriff.

She is using one to hold her gin and tonic and another to hold her communicator.]

I think the lads should 'ave it sorted by now. You look a bit mithered, Ricki love, what did you grow?

[video]

[rickitikitarr]

[The frame lurches. It had been just his face, his sheet-wrapped shoulders, but he moves gingerly now, twisting awkwardly on the bed so she can see his bare torso, then the line of plates up his back. He's mostly lying around on his stomach.]

Can't even get comfy to read properly.

[And he's a little too conservative to wander he halls half-naked, even though he's showing her now. He's a big fellow, more muscle than he usually lets on, and the addition make him look it all the more.]

Re: [video]

[routemistress]

[He is, and she notices that and files it away without comment as she does the vast majority of her observations. She also smiles, because he is adorable.]

Oh dear, that's not nearly as functional as my tentacles, is it? I can 'old four books and a ciggie and a drink all at once, they're fab. i'll be sorry when this one's over.

[rickitikitarr]

[He snorts, and drops his face into the pillow, trying to shrug his shoulders up and back, lifting up to try to crack a knot of tension forming in the back of his neck. Stress, tension, holding himself in an unfamiliar way. He rolls one shoulder, than the other, and the plates rustle against one another. Muffled, into the pillow;]

Can't say the same.

[He lifts his head back up though, tries to coax her.]

Do something with me. If I'm not going to be decapitated on my way to the deck any longer, I need to get out of here.

[routemistress]

[She grins.]

Sparring? I'm quite excited about what I might do with these suckers.

[rickitikitarr]

I can barely look left or right!

[Complaining, with a laugh. She'll have such an advantage.]

[spam]

[babyfacedkiller]

[Fucking dreadful. Funny how that's a sentiment that doesn't get expressed nearly enough, no matter how appropriate. Lloyd doesn't reply to the post when it goes up, a little too busy worrying about his own bodily modifications, but he does, a bit later on, run into Ricki in the dining hall.

He doesn't ask what the fuck it is Ricki is hiding under that sheet, not yet, though he can't help being curious, but what he's got he isn't trying to hide. There's a pair of horns protruding out of his forehead that wouldn't look out of place on a mountain goat, and a long, fleshy tail coming out from a specially made hole in the back of his jeans. Right now the tail is behaving, but that's not always the case.]

Guess I forgot to mention it when we talked the first time, but this place is fuckin' crazy.

[But maybe that's the sort of thing that goes without fucking saying. Lloyd turn a chair around before sitting down opposite of Ricki, and takes an agitated bite out of his sandwich.]

These things usually blow over in a couple of days. The floods do. Dunno about the psycho killers. That might be more of a permanent fixture.

[spam]

[rickitikitarr]

[He glances up at him, in a little less of a towering rage now, hands curled around a cup of tea and breathing in the comforting scent. He still looks a little like a kid pretending to be a russian grandmother, but that can't be helped.]

Everyone mentioned it. It's just really sinking in.

[Most of all, he dislikes the loss of control.]

We can't exactly make anyone walk the plank, can we?

[spam]

[babyfacedkiller]

Sure we fucking can. It just won't stick.

[Lloyd's pretty sure that Zane guy has been taken care of, by now, but he doesn't feel any particular relief. One psycho down, so what? People are still going crazy all around, and now they're wearing real-life Halloween costumes on top of it, for extra shits and giggles.]

Kinda makes you feel like it don't even matter, you know? [His tail does a moody swing.] Like it's all one big playground for sick fucks.

[spam]

[rickitikitarr]

Now, now. If we're caught fermenting mutiny in public we'll probably have our eyeballs fall out next time around.

[But yeah, he's right there with him, and it shows in the look on his face.]

[spam]

[babyfacedkiller]

Christ, don't fuckin' say that. You know it might just happen.

[But obviously Lloyd's not too disturbed by that possibility, because he proceeds with his sandwich munching at his regular pace.]

Besides, a little mutiny might do people some good. Give us a break from all the tails, hooves and murders. Let some of the tension out.

[Of course he's not serious -- he's not quite bored, tense or desperate enough to really contemplate causing trouble, but he's certainly been more on edge, between the regular dose of stir crazy and the recent going-ons.]

[spam]

[rickitikitarr]

Could be exciting.

[He agrees, taking another long, slow sip.]

I'm burning my way through the library right now, since for the most part it's something I can do from my quarters. I could do with a change of pace.

[thelastbullet]

I'm not the kinda fella to say 'I told you so'. [But he told him so.]

[rickitikitarr]

Well thank heavens.

[But he's grinning. He remembers, doesn't really hold it against him.]

How've you been?

[thelastbullet]

[He smiles back: he's also not the kinda fella to grin a lot, but he likes Ricki well enough.]

I've been alright. Got a little banged up. [He looks down at his arm, which is cradled tight in a sling that's hanging from around his neck.]

[rickitikitarr]

Oh, nasty. Not broken, I hope?

[An empathetic grit of his teeth. A break is no fun whatsoever.]

Get it in this latest little party?

[thelastbullet]

Definitely broken. [He doesn't sound too upset about it, even if it hurts like a motherfucker.]

Lookin' at the infirmary right now, I'm thinking I got off easy.

[rickitikitarr]

[He makes a sympathetic grimace.]

Easy, yeah, but still not a hell of a lot of fun. They let you out, yet?