|
|
Post by Nightingale on Nov 6, 2006 6:30:03 GMT -5
After the conversation with Jane, Angela Price had been left feeling just a little grossed out. Actually, that was a lie - she'd been left feeling like she needed to have a shower just from the glimpse of wrongness that a bit of someone else's soul had given to poor Jane - but maybe she was biased and thinking much worse of it, because of who the bit of soul belonged too.
Dead Man bothered her. She didn't mind Mr. Bones so much, but the little skeletal dog didn't have a dead smell to him, and he was quite innocent in comparison to his master. Of course, Angie was aware of how useful his powers were to the Brotherhood, and she did realise that he could hardly be blamed for re-animating himself - she'd have done the same, no doubt, if she was just a conciousness disconnected from her corpsified body. But it was still difficult to look at him and think positive thoughts, and the memory of how he'd called her on the phone - out of nowhere, with no warning from anyone - and breathed 'Sing sweet, Nightingale,' at her...
She shuddered.
The internet was boring her. There was nothing going on, not even any interesting spam email subject lines to amuse herself over. Though the last thing she was feeling like, with the thoughts of Dead Man still fresh in her mind, was eating, Angie thought vaguely about heading down to the kitchens and bashing away at home-made bread for a while. Kneading the dough would probably relax her - although it was a bit mindless, so maybe she'd just be left with her thoughts anyway.
Well, it was better than just sitting here.
Opening the door, she actually visibly jumped when she saw Dead Man standing outside, as if her thoughts had conjured him.
Oh, god, please not that. Anything but that.
No, if that was going to happen to anyone, it was Jane.
Poor Jane. Atleastit'snotmethough!
"Uh... Hi."
|
|
|
|
Post by deadman on Nov 7, 2006 23:01:21 GMT -5
As mentioned previously, Dead Man had great luck. Just when he got to the door, he paused outside, hearing footsteps within. Sure enough, the door opened, and as expected, there was Angie.
She jumped nearly out of her skin, which was always appealing to see.
He stood, eying her with his unblinking wooden stare. “Sweet Nightingale. It's good to see you again.”
Without waiting for her response, he thrust his arms out mechanically, a very frantic Mr. Bones trying to get to her. His little tail wagging like a hummingbird's wing.
“I've decided to give you Mr. Bones.” He said in his hoarse whisper, “You seem lonely.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Nightingale on Nov 7, 2006 23:22:45 GMT -5
There was nothing she could do but take the squirming skeletal puppy, who immediately started ... well, if he'd had a tongue, she would have said he was licking her face, but he was just kinda butting against her chin, his tail wagging excitedly. The effect was immediate, bringing a wide smile to her face - at least someone was happy to see her, even if it was a long-dead canine.
She was scratching his skull when Dead Man spoke again, and Angie's eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh, Dead Man," she wondered for a moment if he actually had a real name or not, "that's very sweet, and... thank you for thinking of me..." Even if it did feel a little weird to think that a corpse had decided that you were lonely, "But I can't possibly accept. Mr. Bones is yours, he'd pine for you if you were seperated too long." Wasn't there something in the zombie connection that would back her up, there?
|
|
|
|
Post by deadman on Nov 7, 2006 23:51:10 GMT -5
Dead Man stared, looking very much the corpse. After a moment, it seemed he decided she wouldn't reconsider, and he was animate once more. Still, he didn't reach out for Mr. Bones. Rather, he straighted up, and put his hands behind his back.
“Very well, I'll take him with me when I leave. Though I ask you to reconsider, as animals have been proven to be good for your health.” He leaned his head back, which produced a meaty pop in his neck, and looked down his face at her.
“I actually have a request for you, Angela. I was considering taxidermy, seeing as how most find my decay unpleasant. Perhaps if I replaced my insides with non biodegradable material, I would be less... offensive?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Nightingale on Nov 8, 2006 0:07:03 GMT -5
Good for... Good for your health? A corpse was giving her advice on her health, and gifting her a dead animal to improve her health?
She actually brought one hand to her temple for a moment, the other still clutching Mr. Bones to her tightly.
Of course, when he said that he had a request, Angie nodded. And tried not to shudder at both the use of her full name and the nature of the request.
"You're going away?" She frowned to herself for a moment. That probably wasn't the most important thing to be speaking about right now.
"Uh, don't worry. Taxidermy? I can do some basic surgery," her mother had taught her how to do an emergency appendectomy, the woman had an odd view of what people should know for first aid, "but I don't know a whole lot about the materials used, or if we've got any of the equipment here that we'd need. I'm sure I can find out more on the 'net, though."
Even packing him with something as simple as sawdust, or gauze, would probably help. Of course, the idea of cutting into Dead Man and taking out his organs made her want to vomit everywhere, but Angie was doing her best to think of the technical side of it rather than the realities of what it could entail.
You've seen corpses before. You can handle corpses.
Except they'd never talked to her before, never walked around and put bits of their soul in innocent women and...
"We'd have to do something about your blood, wouldn't we? I mean, we'd probably need to get our hands on some embalming fluid." They'd probably have that kind of thing over on the mainland. Maybe Gill could get in touch with Roland, find out more.
|
|
|
|
Post by deadman on Nov 8, 2006 0:23:03 GMT -5
He cocked his head to the side. “No, not anytime soon I fear. In order to keep myself animate, I believe that I need to maintain a certain proximity to a portion of my essence that is currently trapped inside of Jane. As of yet, I cannot remove it, so here I shall stay. Unless she leaves.”
He looked down at his body, considering.
“Actually the majority of my blood – at least from my organs, I believe- I've vomited out. Probably a few of my organs as well. I suppose that I would need something there, though... it appears that my face and brain are supernaturally intact. I can only imagine my head has maintained it's juiciness due to it's proximity to the brain. Anyway, I'd prefer to have no fluid in my body, if possible... it'll just get in the way.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Nightingale on Nov 8, 2006 0:37:07 GMT -5
"Ah, right." Should she tell him Jane was trying to get it out without having to kiss him? No, there was one thing that Angie had had firmly ingrained into her, and that was the importance of keeping things confidential unless you had permission to divulge them.
Even though she'd spent that morning calling up to find out details that probably should have been kept confidential. Well, that was for a higher purpose, and she wasn't enquiring about anyone living... So she could justify it in her mind.
"Oh, ew." It was an involuntary reaction to his description, but she immediately regretted saying it. Dead Man had not, after all, chosen to be killed. So far as she knew.
"I'm sorry."
She tapped her bottom lip for a moment, bending down to place the squirming Mr. Bones on the floor, where he ran around her feet still wagging his tail.
"Well... We'll need something to put inside you. The Egyptians, I think, used sawdust, so maybe we can ask Dharma to make us a bunch? And is there some kind of medical lab in here?" Angie had, so far, not needed to find one - the only person she hadn't been able to heal with her powers was herself, and thankfully she hadn't gotten injured yet. She wasn't going to cut him open in the kitchen, though, and she needed some basic supplies if she was going to be able to get him open and then close him up again.
Ewewewewewewewewewewewewewwwwwwwwwwww.
|
|
|
|
Post by deadman on Nov 8, 2006 0:51:01 GMT -5
He was still in the position with his head cocked back, and if he took any offense to her saying 'ew', it didn't register at all on his still face.
“One moment.” He continued to stare, though she could visibly see his eyes loose some of their endless sparkle. A few seconds later, they returned to normal. “I have the animates searching the base for one, I have no doubt there is.”
He finally lowered his head normal-like, if such a thing could be said for him, and pursed his lips in thought. “Very well. Sawdust could indeed work. They didn't flay muscle, though, merely removed organs correct? I suppose that would help keep the smell down. Maybe we should use potpourri with the sawdust?”
As an afterthought:
“Dharma can make sawdust?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Nightingale on Nov 8, 2006 1:00:29 GMT -5
She frowned for a moment, trying to remember when they'd gone over it in school.
"No, I think they let the body dry out for sixty days, washing it with nice smelling oils or something." She was not going to take all the muscles out of him. Ew. That was just too much.
She wasn't going to be washing his body, either. And god help him if he thought he was going to take off his pants. Angie didn't even want to think about corpse genitalia.
Of course, that got her thinking about it, and she looked visibly horrified.
"Technically you wouldn't even need the sawdust, I think they just put it in there to make the body look natural. And it settled after a while, I'm sure they packed more in later on." Of course, with him they could probably pour it down his throat or something, which would make it much easier than having to cut him open again.
"Yeah, Dharma can make most things, I think. I mean, he makes fruit out of sand. So I figure it'd take him like, two seconds, instead of someone having to go and hack away at some trees for a while." Although the animates could probably do that for him.
Ugh, how was she even having this conversation? Her life had definitely changed since joining the Brotherhood.
|
|
|
|
Post by deadman on Nov 9, 2006 21:01:42 GMT -5
Now Dead Man leaned back, his arms nearly hugging his chest and one hand poised on his chin thoughtfully. He stayed still for a moment, then his eyes rolled her direction.
“This could possibly mean that Dharma may be able to simply turn my body itself into something else... Or at least build things to put on my insides. Maybe some type of armor? Perhaps steel insides would be better... but would my skin hold them in?”
He let out a strange whistle between his teeth.
“Maybe we should go talk to him? Perhaps the three of us could come up with a solution to our olfactory problems?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Nightingale on Nov 10, 2006 8:05:13 GMT -5
"Anything metal might be a bit too heavy for your skin to support..." Quite frankly, Angie wouldn't have been disappointed if Dead Man fell to bits - although a sentient pile of dismembered limbs would probably be more disturbing than a walking, talking corpse. Slightly more disturbing, at any rate.
"I don't know how much help I'll be, but if you want us all to sit down and brainstorm that's cool by me." It wasn't like she had anything else better to do with her time, and at least if Dharma was there she'd feel slightly less uncomfortable. Her feeling that Dharma was part-statue was much less disconcerting than her knowing that Dead Man was all-corpse.
"Do you really need armour, though? I mean, your body is dead..." Not a sentence you'd ever expect to have to say.
"Don't the animates only die from like... Major head injuries? You know, like the zombie things in Resident Evil?" Except there had been some of his animates that had obviously had broken necks, so obviously they weren't just like Resident Evil. Still, it was easier for her to frame that way, even if he didn't understand the reference. Made more sense in her head.
|
|
|
|
Post by deadman on Nov 10, 2006 8:45:28 GMT -5
Dead Man scanned the memories he’d seen from all of the victims he’d touched, a process that was analytic and swift. Aha, the new scientist knew of Resident Evil – it was the game that Pyro had been playing when Dead Man last spoke to him.
“The animates psychic signature believes, subconsciously, that it is still alive. The only thing that can disrupt it is the destruction of the brain or brain casing, so yes, similar. My concern is that if I continue to take more and more damage to my body, I will be left with little to control there. Though perhaps armor is a little too extreme…”
He straightened, half turning back toward the hall.
“You have helped me so far with this idea. I would… like…” the word seemed odd from his lips, troublesome, “for you to come with me when I speak to Dharma, yes. Let us make way now.”
And with that he was striding down the hall in his bizarre, clearly animated gait.
|
|
