(OPEN) Gregor Samsa's no good, very bad week.

[blattella]

WHO: Gregor (blattella) & you! you! you! you! you!
WHAT: having a bad time around the city, exploring, being a menace.
WHERE: all over the city! City Hall, the train tunnels, and anywhere he can find clothes, namely.
WHEN: 17/07 onward.
WARNINGS: insectile body horror's the big one! bugs, body horror, buggy body horror.

Comments

SOOOOO normal over here!!!

[gripper]

( Sue her for making conversation. It's so much nicer when it's Sinclair being a bitch at her, she really isn't in the mood to take it from anyone else... His smoking habit also makes her nose scrunch a bit, really, why would you ever defile a perfectly good body like that— )

Even if I did, I don't have any obligation to tell you. ( It'll get around to him eventually, because there's other people she's been brushing elbows and exchanging info with, but she doesn't have to tell him specifically. ) But let's play nice while we're here, shall we? Even Sinclair and that Quixote girl have agreed to work with me.

( In the "we aren't going to kill each other for now, that isn't productive, let's share information" department. Not quite friends, certainly not allies, but people who can share information they deem important or pertinent. Definitely not a problem for a cast of people with projection and framing issues. )

[blattella]

I'm not working with you.

[He takes another step away, mouth curling in a snarl, teeth digging into the filter between. There's nothing perfectly good about his body anyway, riddled with more secrets than even he knows of.

It's a temple to Hermann, and that means Gregor has every right to defile it.]

Verkommen! You deserve nothing good in life, and certainly nothing that I could give you. Find your own intel, or carve it out of them, but I can't wait to see you dead again.

[gripper]

Ohohohoo! Keep talking like that, and maybe I'll pin the blame of my murder on you. Sure, I said a lot of interesting things about who killed me, but I'd love to see what this group would do to someone like—

( Kromer cuts herself off, shaking her head. A very, very muted laugh, behind one of her hands. )

No, no, I shouldn't let you get the best of me... Still, I thought that the older you got, the wiser you became. Or are you so senile you can't see the sense and reason in this deal? This deal ( she flourishes her hands, smiling broadly ) that we don't hurt one another—and yes, Bug, it'll go for the other strangers corrupting my Sinclair, too—and if we discover something important, we share it. That's all. All bets are off once we figure a way out of this place, trust me. The less time I spend working with those who willingly allow themselves to be seduced by those filthy metal freaks, the better I feel.

[blattella]

Go on, do it. Do you think I care? If everyone strings me up and tears me apart, it'd still be worth it to take the credit.

The only reason I haven't jammed my claw through your head is because I want them to have a good reputation. You can do what you want with them. They're grown adults. But me? I'm done dealing with devils. You're dirt on Hermann's boots, girlie.

[He's breathing harder, pupils pinning, birdlike, as he takes another step back. Something in his arm bulges and rapidly deflates. Ah, Gregor Samsa Momence]

I don't fear you. At all. And I don't want anything from you, either. You're just a rotten little apple, mushy and sappy on the inside.

[gripper]

( He's easy to work up. Dangerous to do so, as she glances at his arm, but easy. That doesn't necessarily mean he's easy to manipulate though, not the way Sinclair gets when he's angry. Kromer quietly files it away, eyes narrowing, as she again and again pulls her self-control to the front. She's technically a director in her Wing, her group's title differing from the usual aside. She knows when it's best to play her cards.

And right now, her cooling composure looking perfectly arctic against his ire and fire, is not exactly the time to. )

Very well. I thought I'd just make an offer so as not to impede the group's chances of figuring out what's wrong with this city... ( But if she can mention here and there that, oh, no, the man with the bug-arm isn't really interested in working with her, while she's busy slowly digging her fingers into every group meeting, every line of intel, every good grace she can earn without debasing herself——— well, what does she care. It's almost kind to kill insects by trapping them in a jar alone instead of a more violent means. ) You can go back to your checklist, though if you ask me, the property damage might just be your best bet.

[blattella]

You can share with who you want. And I won't go barring you from any database I make in the future. [Deep breath. He's fucked himself for the next 48 hours, but it was worth it to feel.......

To feel something. Any further morphing is slower still, almost imperceptible compared to the dervish he normally turns into. She's lucky, he thinks.]

But I'm not taking direct, not asking, not letting you have anything over me. You got anything you want to share, share it with the people who can stomach you. Enjoy your tour, Coner.