ArchivedLogs:In Which Some Monsters Require Aid And Some Monsters Dispense It
| In Which Some Monsters Require Aid And Some Monsters Dispense It | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2015-12-03 'It's going to be O-K.'(Aftermath of Zombie Party, part of flu season TP.) |
| Location
<XS> Chimera Room - FL2 | |
The guest rooms at Xavier's are spacious and comfortable, well-furnished suites readied for visitors. A mid-sized guest suite, its sitting room is large but its bathroom and two accompanying bedrooms -- one a queen, one holding two full beds -- snug and cozy. Its windows look out over the front yard, providing a wide view of the forests and lake in the distance. In here the decor is subdued, tawny golds and ash-grey stone with hints of green thrown here and there to brighten it. Monstrous creatures prowl the room's artwork, amalgam in shape -- lion heads, dragon wings, scorpion tails; small glass figurines hunch on the bookshelf and hang painted on the walls. Accustomed to being in quarters of a more cave-like variety, the curtains of Deltressa's lair at Xavier's have been pulled closed to shield her and the room's other occupants from the scenic view of the school's grounds. They have not gone so far as to turn up their noses at the accommodations other luxuries, however. The room is brightly lit and the television is on and blaring, albeit turned to a Filipino soap-opera. Virtually undetectable, thin webbing created by Deltressa's youngest daughter dusts the surrounding hallway and the open door to the Chimera Room to keep the arachnid women alert of the foot traffic in the area. In the sitting room, a blonde young woman with a ferociously ridged brow rocks a human-looking baby in her arms. Deltressa's eldest, Zoraida is seated in a comfortably padded chair. Despite plenty of other seating, her spidery looking sister sits closeby on the floor by her feet with her eyes locked on the television screen. Their mother is nowhere to be seen, but is likely in one of the adjoining bedrooms enjoying some solitude before they are summoned for their evening meal. On the webbing out in the hall, the approach of several people can be felt before any knock sounds. The first comes across the ceiling rather than the floor, Anole's scuttling somewhat erratic and unsteady. His spiky head pokes downward through the doorway shortly after, eyes wide and a little nervous. "Z. Um. Help?" He sounds a little squeaky. 'Your mom?' He comes a little bit more into view with this upside-down signing. Nick's thick brown coat is splattered with blood, dried into dark brown clumps. His clothes are torn here and there and he is carrying Derek's motionless body over his shoulders. Aside from three long scratches across his muzzle where his fur is thin he does not, in fact, /look/ all that badly hurt. Just very tired. Alongside Nick, Taylor -- could look worse, really. Most of his limbs are not in view. Just the standard two arms, the rest hidden under a large black canvas jacket that currently looks rather misshapenly bulgy. There's fresh tearing over the mangled scarring on his jaw, a few scratches laid red down his black skull, and his steps are definitively dragging. He stops outside the doorway, tipping his grey eyes over to Zoraida with a numb kind of exhaustion. There's a definite grimace of pain in his expression, though, an added wince as he lifts his hand to wave. Hello. Though lacking her mother's pedipalps, the massive fang-like growths protruding from Ari's multi-eyed head twitch and tap together in venomous warning as their territory is disturbed. The middle daughter rises from the floor defensively at first, before her more gentle sister places a hand on her arm. Both women are unusually tall, if not quite as imposing as their matriarch. For all of her fortifications, their absent sister Francisca has not laid out webbing on the ceiling. "It's Anole," Zoraida gestures in a ladylike fashion upward before bustling into the other room with the baby, presumably to retrieve Deltressa. Notably un-arachnid, the blonde flourishes an utterly impractical cluster of lovely insectoid wings behind her as she goes. 'Quickly. Here,' Ari signs, clearing off the coffee table in a single swipe with her long arms. She lets its contents fall to the floor as she gestures for them to lay out the unconscious boy there. She knows the drill, though she can be seen hesitating briefly out of instinctual fear upon seeing how very /human/ Derek looks. Anole dips under the lintel of the doorway, clambering across to crawl over the ceiling of this room instead. He settles down on top of a bookshelf, crouched and looking down, still wide-eyed, at the room. There's a tense stiffness to his posture, one of his arms held protectively across his body and his jacket torn and spattered with a whole lot of grime and gore. 'Zombies,' he signs one-handed. 'He hurt. T-A-Y-L-O-R,' he points to the tallest of his friends, 'hurt. Sorry interrupt your show.' He bites his lip at Ari's hesitation. 'Taylor-friend,' he explains, with a stiff gesture to Derek. Nick bows his head as he enters, ears flattened back (one of them a little ragged where it had gotten bitten). He stoops low beside the coffee table and lays Derek down on it as gently as he can manage, wincing all the while. With his hands free now, he signs 'Thank you' to Ari. His amber eyes flick over to Anole, then to Taylor, worried. He stays kneeling near the unconscious boy, tail twitching in jerky strokes from side to side. Taylor slips into the room after the others, moving out of the way of the doorway before he peels off his jacket. It frees up the multitude of limbs beneath -- most of them bearing a large number of scratches and tooth marks. One smaller limb is gone entirely, just a mangled stump where it should be. Another has been torn off (bitten off?) halfway down. 'Thank you,' he signs as well. 'Anole said. You can help. School doctors -- maybe mad.' There is blood dried on his arms, his signing slow and kind of stiff as well. 'It's up to her,' Ari presses her lips into a thin line and shrugs in response to Anole's explanation of Derek. It's more than just an implication that the boy very well could be turned away. The children here haven't exactly gotten on Deltressa's good side. Speaking of whom... A great shadow is cast over the well-lit room. Making her grand entrance, Deltressa does not don a niqab or headscarf or wig. In the privacy her own room, there is no pretense of beauty -- only glorious horror. Her spidery pedipalps twitch and tap as she gets a sense of the room's newcomers without needing to look. "/Zoraida/," she commands with irritation, snapping her fingers towards the television. Without her fake nails, her long fingers look positively naked. Behind her, the baby begins to wail as Zoraida hurries after her mother with a heavy medical bag held to her chest. She sets it down to run over to the television, only to be scolded for how loud the baby is being. And then, for being in the way. She appears to take it all in stride, and with the patience of a saint. In a silken black nightgown and long gothic robe, Deltressa clears the room in a single step to help Taylor inside. Her flip-flops slap against the bottom of her feet as she moves, and her newly painted toes are each separated by cotton balls. 'Anole. My purple bag,' she signs, pointing the room she'd only just came from. As she predicted, Ari watches as her mother overlooks Derek at first and so, she joins Nick. 'It's going to be O-K.' Soon enough though, her mother sends her to fetch something, too. Anole's eyes track after Zoraida sympathetically. He scales down the side of the bookshelf, staying out of the way of the unconscious boy on the table until he's actually given instructions. He darts off into the next room, returning shortly with the purple bag held in his large clawed arm. 'We were try. To help.' His expression is a -- little sheepish as he sets the bag down beside the table and backs away. 'He got bad bites. Many us did.' Nick's eyes go a little wide when Deltressa enters. His tail goes still and his ears stand upright at the arachnid woman's voice. He scoots back a little to give the others space to work. 'I OK,' he signs, 'not hurt bad.' His long pink tongue darts out to lick his nose where a bit of blood still oozes from the ragged scratch. 'Many zombies. Many, many.' Taylor's eyes widen as well, when Deltressa appears. His head tips back to look up towards her, and there's a slow relaxation through his scratched and bloody tentacles, sagging downwards against the floor as she arrives. He offers Ari a quick grateful smile at her reassurance, nodding mutely. 'Less zombies,' there's just a hint of pride in his words, 'than was before.' 'Is that a head injury?' Deltressa signs urgently, apparently not having missed Derek's knocked-out form at all. It's only the beginning of a series of questions, which she scatters throughout the injured group as she assesses the situation. Guiding Taylor to a seat which Zoraida has pulled out, Deltressa produces a wooden spoon from her purple bag. She holds to to her mouth and pretends to bite down before holding it out to Taylor. Apparently in possession of more applicable skills than her older sister, Ari returns with antiseptic and gets to work. Together her and her mother clean all four of the boys' wounds. Deltressa stitches them up where necessary, utilizing both her hands and likely to their dismay, her pedipalps to expedite the task. Far too experienced in zombie-related injuries, Deltressa doesn't stop until she's satisfied with the young mutants' conditions. | |
