entrancelogs | It's the death-by-Jack resurrection club! [CLOSED]

Alex is way up on the other end of the scale. Bhamba will have a lovely view of the guy's bashed-in face reforming, his warped skin smoothing over, and his stomach rebuilding itself complete with shiny new liver.

His head rolls back and forth a little. He's increasingly alive, but still clawing his way back into consciousness. Which is lucky for him, really, because it'd suck to wake up while your torso still looks like a game of Operation.

There's a hell of a lot of dried blood on him.

It only takes Bhamba a moment to notice the deformed corpse beside him. It takes him a little longer to react to it, on account of having to consider his options.

He can now either
a.) focus on the nagging memory that is slowly crawling back to him, the one about his friend Jack giving him the whack of death with a wrench
or he could just
b.) grab his trusty bonesaw and bury himself in work and body parts like there is no tomorrow.

The choice is made without much effort and Bhamba immediately scoots over to the corpse.

He experiences a moment of considerable disappointment when he discovers that he missed the dissection window, but the sight of a regenerating drug junkie is more than enough to make up for it.

"That is incredible!"

Well, there are worse comments to wake up to.

A regenerating human being is really quite impressive. Bones push out like new teeth, flesh bulges and grows like a meat blob hooked up to an electrical current, and the torn edges of skin seek each other out and knit carefully back together. We're sure that Bhamba will consider the show over all too soon.

The first thing Alex is really aware of, besides a general feeling commonly known as feel-like-crapness, is a putrid taste in his mouth. It doesn't have context - not yet - but it wakes him up enough that he rolls onto his stomach, gagging.

Oh, this is better than ten meat blobs and three octo-chicken combined!

If Alex thought that through all the re-knitting of tissue he felt a blunt poke then that was probably because Bhamba couldn't quite stick to proper 'look with your eyes, not with your fingers' etiquette.

After that he just leans back, crouching next to Alex and enjoying the rest of the show which, as has been correctly predicted, was indeed over all too soon.

There is probably a rule against approaching people so soon after they become available, so to speak, but even if there was, it would only be met with blatant disregard from Bhamba's side anyway.

He taps Alex on the shoulder. "Good morning!"

We're sure that Alex would be delighted to see Bhamba if only he weren't distracted. As it is, memories are starting to do the walk of shame back into his head; some of them impossible, most of them fragmented and blurry, all of them to some degree horrible.

Bhamba's cheery greeting interrupts that, and Alex looks up for a second at him, bewildered. He's lost his glasses, so the face above him might as well be an egg with a moustache, but he recognises the voice.

"Wh..."

No, hang on, something just piggybacked in on the taste in his mouth. A memory that - nonono, a hallucination, he's just remembering a hallucination, he was seeing things, it didn't actually happen, it can't have actually happened. He didn't. He wouldn't.

Whether or not it happened, the splinter of recollection makes him go pale, and then he lifts himself up on his elbows and really is sick.

Don't mind him, it's just something he ate.

"Huh. Interesting."

Bhamba moved back a little in order not to remain in the potential line of puke, but apart from that he seems undisturbed.

"I barely have a headache myself. Must be the drugs."

He shrugs, stands up and leaves for the nearest empty room.

After a moment he returns, a cup of coffee and a bagel in his hand.

"Are you done?"

Oddly enough, he can't really argue with Bhamba's diagnosis. Amongst the muddle of things coming back to him is the fact that he spliced up and got into fights. It must have been the mansion's fault that he was a splicer to begin with, but the mansion didn't force him to do that.

Did he fight with Jack? The faces are vague. He mostly remembers burning and laughing and... climbing? And a whole bunch else. But like hell is he going to start freaking out in front of Bhamba. He shoves himself to his feet, steps away from the vomit and puts a steadying hand on the wall. Despite his lack of glasses, he tries to focus on the scientist, with... absolutely minimal success. His face is itchy; he scrubs at it and finds dry blood flaking off.

You know what, that... that's happened before. That can wait its turn.

"Done." Short. Don't let any of the fear or the shame out.

He's bloody, he realises, but is he injured?

You can add 'dread' to that list of feelings.

"...What day is it?"

Bhamba shrugs.

"I was just about to remove your brain and take it back to my lab when you revived too."

His own fate is implicit in that last word, but only just. He's still not the best at conveying his own knowledge to those who may not share it.

Oh man. Suspicion confirmed.

Does that mean Jack killed him? He only remembers flashes of the fight, though it's coming back to him gradually. (Oh god, that means he attacked Jack. Oh god.) Or was it that woman with the eyepatch? (That one memory - that can't be real. That - no. Those - no.)

Wait, he revived too?

Not that it's Alex's habit to entertain the worst possible assumption ~~it totally is~~, but... He was fighting. He lost it. He lost it completely and he hurt people.

For half a second he looks terrified, but then he shuts it down, he repeats the mantra. Don't let it out.

"You died?"

There definitely isn't a moment of silence and a flicker of sadness running across Bhamba's face. Nope, no way.

"Only a little! I barely saw the light at the end of the tunnel! Except then I did and I suspect it was a train, because my head still feels as if one hit me."

He reaches into his pocket while talking, puts two pills into his coffee and empties the cup the moment he's done talking.

"Ahhh."

He takes a pensive look at the rest of his bagel, then decides that it's better off stuffed into the now empty cup and placed on the floor.

"What about you? You'd think overdosing on gene-altering drugs would get boring after a while, but there you have it!"

Bhamba's capable of srs bsnss melancholy? What is this, mirrorside?!

Then again, it sucks to die, presumably even if you are some kind of evil body-snatching crocodile-distributing mad-scientist.

Then again again, Alex still doesn't have his glasses on, and melancholy loses its effect when it's blurred out like a less strict Sims censor bar.

This guy has honed avoiding unpleasant subjects into a fine art. The comment about drugs just makes his mouth and lips narrow.

"Can you see my glasses?"

(His glasses are on the floor just inside the room where Bhamba found his coffee. Alas, they've been soundly trodden on.)

I know, right? It's okay though, nobody could have seen it coming.

Speaking of not seeing...

"They are neiher on your head nor on the floor."

On the floor in Bhamba's near vicinity anyway, he didn't really pay attention to the one in that room.

He ponders this problem.

"Two years ago one of my colleagues developed a parasitic worm that corrects people's eyesight when inserted into their brain. The success rate is remarkable!"

Bhamba coughs. "In comparison with other parasitic worms that are supposed to correct people's eyesight when inserted into their brain."

Edited 2010-11-13 16:25 (UTC)

Oh, listen, Bhamba's talking about doing horrible things to Alex's brain. It's actually a relief to have a dose of normality here.

So he gives it his attention as he walks carefully towards the nearby room door and opens it. A closet will give him new glasses. Water. New clothes. He needs clean clothes. He needs to clean his mouth. (Maybe he bit his tongue. Lost teeth. That makes sense. That'd explain it.)

"What, did only most of the people die in testing?"

"What? No! Most people did not die at all!"

He ponders this.

"Admittedly I would not say that everyone is still alive in the strictest sense of the word, but ah..."

He follows Alex, making no attempt to open doors, guide his way or otherwise facilitate his quest for glasses.

"Oh! There was this one batch only about eleven percent of the testers survived on the long run, but that was only due to the high suicide rates that sprung up when most subjects started developing a ridiculously sense of smell for reasons which, according to our legal department, had nothing to do with the brain worms whatsoever."

Edited 2010-11-14 06:51 (UTC)

You hear that, Bhamba? That's the sound of Alex letting your blessedly non-event-related rambling wash over him, you creepy, creepy man.

He makes a beeline for the closet door - he can see well enough to distinguish it - and now he opens it hastily, reaching inside for a cup of water and a bucket.

"Sure they didn't."

Swilling, swilling - except that moistening it makes the taste of the dessicated blood stronger, even sourer and more rotten, and a trickle of it starts to go backwards down his throat. He convulses and throws up again, violently. The bucket he'd intended to spit into surpasses its original purpose.

Bhamba simply watches Alex with a raised eyebrow.

"I submit a new theory: You gorged yourself to death. Do all ADAM addicts just eat each other? I need to know, you see I did not initially consider partial zombification in my research."

Bhamba just makes it his mission in life to mash every button Alex possesses, doesn't he?

Alex coughs, and spits vomit into the bucket so that he can snap:

"D'you get off on watching me throw up or something? Go away."

When he raises his voice, the edge of panic becomes audible. He's still trying to convince himself that what he remembers doing to the one-eyed woman - the whole muddle of cruel impressions - was just something he imagined.

"Oh, I'm sorry, here I thought I could wait around, hold back your hair while you cough up human remains and then make you a soothing cup of tea and become your best friend!"

He rolls his eyes and stalks past Alex, loudly closing the door behind him as he disappears into the corridor.

Outside his muttering continues, angrily and too quiet to make out, unless one bothered to listen more closely and carefully than the narration suspects Alex of doing.

After a moment the muttering is interrupted by a loud exclamation on Bhamba's part. Another moment of silence and then the muttering quickly resumes, this time in a much more cheerful and conversational tone.

It seems he found better company than Alex outside.

Edited 2010-11-14 14:32 (UTC)

Wait, let's back up to 'human remains' for a minute.

"That's not what they are!"

This: shouted after Bhamba in a tone reminiscent of 'oh god why would you say that how dare you say that you asshole oh god why would you say that'. Then Alex pulls himself together by force, and stands there shakily. Giving in to sudden anger - that's what a splicer does. He isn't a splicer. He's human and he's sane.

He puts a hand to his face. It's not tumorous or falling in on itself. He came back human and sane, didn't he?

While Alex is enjoying his crisis, the muttering outside has gotten louder.

"Just let it go, he won't--"

And then the door is pushed open forecefully again, though instead of a pair of hands a large snout emerges as the culprit, dashing into the room and followed suit by the rest of one angry crocodile.

Jaws agape Amy darts forward and barely manages to come to a halt before Alex. She thrashes her head from one side to the other and hisses loudly.

After a moment of hesitation Bhamba strolls into the room after her and comments on the scene with a sigh.

"She says you set a bad example for your child and she is very disappointed in you."

HOLY SHIT THERE'S A CROCODILE OUT HERE.

If you think Alex is going to stand there chilling while a massive fucking crocodile charges at him, you've clearly not been paying attention to his opinion on crocodiles in general and this one in particular. He ends up on the other side of the room, pressed up against the wall.

"Call her off!"

Bhamba raises his hands and takes a step back.

"That is strictly between the two of you. I am not getting involved."

Amy briefly turns her head towards Bhamba and hisses, lower and less forceful than before.

"I should think so, but it may not be a good idea to try. I, ah, will give you some space."

Then he turns around and heads out into the corridor.

"Bhamba, what the hell are you doing?"

As far as it's possible to raise your voice to someone without taking your eyes off the large angry reptile in front of you, Alex does.

Bhamba does not dignify this with an answer.

Amy however will gladly dart forward and snap at the air in front of Alex, her hiss back to the less reassuring tone it had before.

Perhaps even without the ability to speak Crocodile Alex will now understand that they are not done and his attention better return to her and her complaint alone.

Alex discovers to his cost that he can't climb backwards up walls any more (though not for lack of trying).

Okay, maybe holding as still as possible will work. Their vision is based on movement or something, right?

Oh Bhamba, you are so not Alex's favourite person just now.

No.

No, it really isn't.

Amy moves closer towards him, closed snout now pressing against his legs.

[ He almost shifts to the side, but what did the books say? It attacks by flinging its head sideways? Oh hell.

But you know what? He doesn't think he cares any more. Things have shown a steady pattern of getting worse. They've fucking outdone themselves in these last few days. They're not going to start getting better.

He glares at the crocodile, and says coldly: ]

Go on, then. I bet I don't have many left.

Well, great.

Now you have her confused.

She stops for a moment.

Ponders.

Then she nudges him again.

He jerks his foot away. Apparently he still has a survival instinct whether he likes it or not.

"Go on then!"

Ohh, Alex probably means go on talking. For a moment she thought--

Well, never mind that.

She politely explains to Alex in several low hisses and loud breaths that she is very worried about your ability to parent while under the influence.

She also wants to know about your position on eating human flesh, because she is concerned that you may be teaching her child the wrong values.

...You did have your dictionary at hand to translate all that, right?

Alex stares at her, forgetting for a moment his fun little pit of despair. Sure, Bhamba's seemed to hold meaningful conversation with the creature, but Bhamba's a madman at worst and a mad pet owner at best. There's no way she actually talks. She's a crocodile.

Then again, the way she moves and hisses does look like an attempt at communication...

He's all set to throw away the notion as crazy talk, as far as it'll go. But this is Wonderland. It's had zombies and Pokémon and people living in mirrors and endless shit like that. Every time you think you know what the rules are, they change.

...

"No way are you talking. No way," he says tensely.

Amy stares back.

She is not so good at rolling her eyes, otherwise she would do that now.

That Alex fellow is not very perceptive, is he?

She slowly raises her upper body and lowers it again, finishing with an exhale.

Approximate translation? Duh.

This Alex fellow is just not used to crocodiles that talk to people, and if pressed does not particularly want to be, thank you very much.

Not that he's presented with much choice. Between 'the crocodile's trying to talk' and 'you're seeing things again'... he'll take the conversational reptile.

Wonderland, he reminds himself. Weird shit.

"Holy..."

He considers yelling at Bhamba again for confirmation - but of course the guy would say his crocodile talks, he's been chatting back to it since forever. So the mad scientist is now also Dr. Dolittle. Great.

The mad scientist who is now also Dr. Dolittle is now also peering into the room impatiently.

"Are you two done yet?"

It's the death-by-Jack resurrection club! [CLOSED]

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oh man where did those brackets come from

They escaped from ██████

Note: so could we use those brackets to kill 682? -Dr ██████

Tissue sample [DATA EXPUNGED] - Further testing denied by O5-█

I wish they expunged less data. I feel like I'm missing out on fun stuff.

It's just that if █████████ ████ the ████ wouldn't ████